I have been accused of being ‘forgetful’, 'un-organized', 'a hurricane' and (my personal favourite) 'like a blender without a lid'. These always give me a laugh because although I can be a little SPREAD OUT, I would argue I am highly organized. For the most part.

An area of "non strength" for me is keeping track of my things during busy, hectic or otherwise stressful times. I have misplaced purses, keys, jackets, shoes, bowls, containers and the like (usually in the midst of multi-tasking). Fortunately for me, these items usually crop up once I have reorganized my life. My family uses this as perpetual fuel to tease me mercilessly, the joke going something like, "Holly is cleaning her room."

I have misplaced only two items during my BR tenure that have been completely heart breaking- a thick banded silver ring (False silver, rubbed off to copper, make my finger green but it doesn't matter because I loved it) I always wore on my right handed ring finger (from the Sweden back packing expedition) and a pair of wood hoop earrings from Costa Rica. I suspect I left both in a hotel room outside of Wrangle St. Elias National Park after a particularly blurry evening full of Alaskan Amber, where I last remember wearing both those items. Ah, Ha.

On the van drive down to Salt Lake City we stopped with the new recruits in Montana in the bustling town of Helena. We stopped at a sub par hotel that offered 'Hot and Fast' breakfast. It is this location I last remember seeing my most recent missing item: my orange plaid pyjama pants.

I purchased these pants with Mum in Toronto last summer, thrilled for the find as I love the colour orange. They also had the handy feature of rolling up to make crops that buttoned. Fashion and function. And a bed time gem I loved and now are gone. I wore them to bed, woke up with them, packed them up (so I thought) now they are gone. I ripped through my suitcase. Called the hotel. Searched the van. Gone. Mysteriously, magically gone.

With no help of alcohol I have no excuse for their loss, just my tears and the wonderful mystery of where things go, into the bottomless pit of Things That Go Missing. I am hopeful they might show up. Or someone in helena, montana is rocking their new pair of orange plaid pants...

Who knows.