D'oh

Since I started 'working' at the Talkeetna lodge; there has been plenty of idle time inbetween answering the phone, which rings on avarage, twice an hour, to do something I've been putting off for 6 months; write.

One night, 4 weeks ago, I had all these thoughts bursting to get out of my head - in a choesive order this time! Trent Wigglesworth came to life in just 2 hours sitting at Barnes and Noble, drinking iced coffe, eating cheap ass Fred Meyers baggette and dipping it into Dad's oilive oil. Furiously, between sips, dips and nibbles, the pencil ripped thourgh this yellow notepad, my finger guided by the thoughts coming together so easily. By the time I got to the point I was very pleased with my progress, I scooped up everything and walked home. Notepad secure in my satchel.

Talkeetna has provided me with time to transcribe these notes onto the computer, so even I can read them. Which I did, mostly. I even went on to write out an acutal script this time. Just this past weekend, I went down to Anchorage for a day. I must have put the yellow notepad somewhere besides the satchel. maybe the train, maybe its at Mark and Janets.. Maybe its in Duncans car.

Thankfully, I have *most* the notes on the computer. There are just one or two that are still on that notepad floating around Alaska somewhere. I know its not in my bunk cauze I just cleand it out. Its not at my desk, cauze the front desk staff helped me look there earlier today.

Still, I want that notepad back dammit.