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Thursday, September 24, 2009


Complicated week, with illness and mishaps and whatnot. I had to bail on band practice and swap the artist formerly known as Frau Lobster my usual Wednesday for Thursday after dragging my honyocks all over hell's half acre looking for a stupid adapter and I don't know what-all.

The adapter thing: I sleep with a CPAP. It would make me feel old but I've had over a decade to get over that part. Might have had an easier time staying awake in 5th hour Geometry back in 10th grade if I'd had one then. Might.

All I need is a regular 110 volt household outlet. The campgrounds have 30 amp hookups for RVs. Getting from the latter to the former would seem a fairly mundane task, but it stumped two whole Radio Shack stores, an Ace Hardware, several searches of the internet by me, the camping people at Bass Pro, etc. Turns out, there's an RV dealer a mile from my house that has the part needed. To my surprise, the 'part' they want to sell me is not an RV. Because that's what I pictured them saying, 'Well, buy this Winnebago and plug it in at the campground, then plug your CPAP into one of its many wall outlets.'

Anyway. After the Team Lockton meeting, after getting my seat post from Trek, I made it to the unexpected bonus I got for canceling out on band practice: I got to watch my daughter cheer.

I was going to see this a couple weeks ago, but the games were canceled because too many kids were out sick. Then, since I already had to be in two places at once tonight, I'd planned to catch the next one.

When I got there, I thought she spotted me and seemed happy about it. But hard to tell, her job is to be perky after all.

There were two games, a long evening of cheering, so when they broke after the first game, I asked her if she needed any supper. She said sandwiches had been provided. Then, speaking to her Mom on the phone, I learned that her Mom and stepfather had dropped fast food off for her.

When I said I wasn't sure how long me and Mo could hang in the stands, Em told me, in as many words, 'I was happier when you weren't here.'

So we left, picked her up after. At which point she was inconsolable because she'd just learned that this bag of Burger King her mother had left for her was for her. She'd seen it, been hungry (the 'provided' sandwiches were at 4:30). Apparently the coach thought she knew or had heard the bag was for her. She hadn't, so it got cold, then when the rain started, the food got soggy to boot.

After almost four hours for forced perkiness and food deprivation, her perspective had gone the way of the Linotype.

Having a 13 year old daughter sometimes feels like talking a jumper in off a ledge. But I think I figured it out. Sort of. Trying to introduce her to the concept that what didn't kill her would make her stronger backfired, so much for Nietzsche. But we've watched Office Space together. I said, 'Everyone feels like Milton sometimes, with the birthday cake.'

She laughed and said, 'I didn't get a piece of cake. I'm gonna burn the building down.'

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