Wanna join a gang?

If you read my blog regularly enough, the fact that I have a visual memory will not come as a surprise to you. I use it routinely to run a household or to perfect my stalking but where it also comes in as a curse is when I lose something.

Because I have an inane talent of being able to tell you the exact layout of every room in my house when I last saw it and all its contents (I know, you're dying to turn this into some kinda party trick, aren't you?) , it also literally drives me up a wall when I "lose" something.

The last thing I lost was a pair of onyx stud earrings. How, I don't know because, well, I'm a jewelery hound so the idea of losing a pair of my precious ear baubles is just beyond my comprehension (and yours I'm sure). Before that, well, I honestly do not remember losing anything since probably my childhood.

Hold your horses - there's a reason I'm rambling on in this background monologue.

Recently, I went out and bought myself two new sets of winter accessories. Grey and chocolate brown sets of a scarf, toque and gloves in fleece. I've been the queen of mismatch/ill fitting/falling apart items for a few winters now so I finally decided to suck it up and buy a set - for $8 glorious dollars each. Gotta love Joe.

And then I lost the toque that belongs to the grey set. My house is by far not at all messy (I think it's become MORE neurotically tidy since le ex left) but I have searched it high and low looking for that cursed toque for HOURS. I'm not kidding, I looked for hours because I DON'T lose things. I then searched my car and then comforted myself with the thought that it HAD to be at work. But to no avail. I even did the unthinkable and made a desperate plea to my SIL to keep an eye out for it which for my ego was like an alcoholic admitting they have a problem. While she probably didn't see it as that, my ego certainly felt it as that.

Today I wore an unmatching toque to the scarf and gloves to work. I had resolved myself that it's gone. "Stop crying over spilt milk a lost toque, L," I said to myself, "time to accept that it's gone." BTW, have I mentioned just how cute I was in that toque? Especially with the contrasting black pea coat and grey with the (platinum) blond hair?

I then I got a message left by my SIL on my phone saying that my brother thanked her yesterday for his new toque that he's absolutely loving.

IT'S MY F*%&ING TOQUE!

So, if you see status updates, wall posts, or whatever else I can come up with that mention my toque, I'm trying to shame my brother into giving it back to me.

So who's in to form a Greenboro gang to go to the Tweed gang's turf and start a rumble. Winner gets the toque. Or at the very least leaves behind a present for them. And yes, that is a threat, dear brother.