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Ever get something from childhood stuck in your head that you can’t for the life of you remember and try as you might to track the bothersome memory down it just never comes to anything?

Ever start out a sentence with the best intentions and realize somewhere along the line it got away from you? Yeah.

Anyway. When I was a kid I read some book about… I don’t know. An orphaned kid who finds her brother or something. And there’s a factory involved and maybe a mystery surrounding someone calling himself Roy G. Biv. And maybe it had a purple cover. But it definitely revolved around colors. And an artist. I think. Or maybe it was actually two books I’m misremembering and not one.

Or maybe I’m making this up as I go along. It is late.

Every few months or so I make a half-hearted to full-hearted attempt to track down this/these book/books. And so far nothing. It drives me nuts. But only when it’s 4 in the morning and I think “God, what was the name of that stupid book.” Like tonight.

God, what was the name of that stupid book?

In other news: the “o” on my keyboard is acting up. I have to reread everything I type like eight times because half the words are missing o’s. It’s driving me insane. Especially when I’m trying to quote and typing fast. Gssip Girl was a particular pain in the arse.

Ah well. Sleep beckons.