I think Johnny Weir, the talented and eccentric figure skater, is fabulous for many reasons. In addition to his athletic talent and gender creativity, I adore him because he openly loves his vacuum. Apparently Johnny’s vacuum is so beloved that it has its own twitter identity. I’m not there just yet, but I, too, have a very profound relationship with my own vacuum. It’s a brilliant machine that literally sucks up the chaos and leaves behind the calm.

It’s not unusual for me to whip out the vacuum at the end of the day in a cathartic ritual. The noise drowns out the sounds of the world (including the voices and footsteps of small ones who have not yet fallen asleep), the suction removes the white sheen of dog fur, and the crinkling of crumbs or larger unidentified particles hitting the inner tubes as they journey toward the vacuum bag deep within gives me a unique sense of satisfaction. Not to mention I am pretty aggressive in my vacuum style so I also benefit from a decent energy release.

Now that our house has a large quantity of wall-to-wall carpet, I have a new challenge. This one raises the stakes in terms of achieving success: guiding the vacuum to produce rows of patterned lines. Johnny Weir himself is a master of such task, and one who relishes that joy.  Hunt down the clip from his brief reality show and you’ll see what I mean!

Yesterday I couldn’t wait; I had to bust out the vacuum mid-day. We were only four hours into the first day of school when I received a call from the teacher to please come in for a conference. This has to be a new record– she even divulged that she’d never had to call a parent on day one (not to mention a parent who was entirely new to the school!).  I won’t delve into the matter here and it’s not important which darling child this regards. Just know that within moments of processing the call, my vacuum was plugged in and zooming from one room to the next. I headed off to the meeting having dropped my blood pressure several notches and dealt with the situation with some clarity of mind. The straight lines remain there today as testament.