This evening I took Skylar over to the Foothills Mall to retrieve an item from the lost and found, eat dinner and work off some of the artificial energy still coursing through her system from the pseudo-pseudoephedrine she took for her cold in the morning. We ended up at the children's play area, which is empty at that time of the day except for the teenagers who cram into the teepee to do what teenagers do in cramped, dark spaces. Skylar ran around for the better part of an hour, acting out the same complicated scenarios she has been staging since she was two. Meanwhile, I sat on the bench and wrote in my journal about the distinction between meaning and usage that Ludwig Wittgenstein implies in his Philosophical Investigations. Eventually, I was enjoined to participate in the scenario, which involved working on a campaign to control pollution in the Grand Canyon in a world where the divide between rich and poor was acute. After banging my head several times on the child-sized equipment, I persuaded Skylar to head towards Barnes & Noble. Along the way, however, she decided she wanted to ride the Noo-Noo with her American Girl doll. Needless to say, I managed to find the three quarters that required and then looked on with glee as the familiar sounds of Teletubbies accompanied her aggressive steering of the program's underclass. Then I stopped in the music and film section of the bookstore for a minute, where I was overcome with an inexplicable and intense desire to acquaint myself with the classic albums of the Electric Light Orchestra. Finally, I wandered over to the café, where I engaged in witty repartée with the maker of my hot chocolate, a cheerily manic individual wearing black fingernail polish, about my times with Tom from MySpace. In other words, I had an extremely successful night out.