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Red Scharlach
17 January 2009 @ 12:09 am
Like many folk with minds full of clutter and vague aspirations towards creativity, I am a scribbler of notes. Text files, notepads, Post-its, the backs of envelopes: I'll write almost anything almost anywhere. When an intriguing idea floats into my head, it generally needs to be pinned down for posterity, or else it is likely to be washed away by my next craving for chocolate biscuits or daydream about Zachary Quinto's anatomy.

Despite their scattershot state, I'm usually quite good at using the notes I make, but some can hang around for months or more in my handbag or on my hard drive, too promising to throw away but not quite promising enough for primetime. A few, however, surpass this stage, long outliving the notion that spawned them, and turning into objects of mystery and confusion in themselves.

So whatever was I thinking of, when I made the following notes? Your guess is as good as mine...
  • "Rosemary Satan-Muffins"
  • "you don't have to use the most expensive chicken in the world"
  • "Wynkyn de Worde"
  • "limp locks (still not hip) blow dry"
  • "Crop Rotation: The Movie"
  • "Nathan Petrelli is scared of girls"
  • "implementation, fait accompli, Ken"
  • An unidentifiable squiggle and the words "use pointy finger"

If any FBI profilers ever rifle through my belongings in the hope of understanding my thought processes, this is the sort of thing they have to look forward to. And if you would like to share any obscurities from your own mental filing cabinet, do feel free. Even if you've forgotten what you meant to remember, perhaps I can make up a more satisfactory explanation for you...
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