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Truth, Justice, and the Spelling Bee

I can't believe I'm going to tell you this, but if I can't write it in my journal, where can I write it?

I think my being so upset with Michelle Kwan's loss stems from my eighth grade spelling bee.

My father came, one of the very few times he ever came to a school event.

I was nervous. I had always had trouble performing in front of an audience.

First round. The word: searchlight

I spelled it with a C, I was so nervous.

I still feel bad about it. A few years ago, my dad made the mistake of mentioning how embarrassed he felt over it. After I yelled at him for about ten minutes, something I have never done, before or since, I think he understood and empathized with my point of view. I think I would be okay with his confession now, but then I felt it was an attack on me.

I know what it is like to feel the pressure of expectation. I was always classified the smart one of the family. I'm sure my father expected the accolades of the winner's parent. If only the searchlight could have shown me the way, instead of blinding me with my terror.

Michelle, know my love is with you. You are beautiful, you skate superbly, and you have the true soul of an athlete.

I'm going to regret this in the morning, I'm sure. Hopefully, I won't delete it.

wart

P.S. This is, and never will be, the fodder of jokes with me. I still feel bad when I think about it, more than a decade after the incident. My drunk ass is going to bed. I'm done with the maudlin bullshit tonight.

P.P.S. I really am happy for Sarah Hughes, and Irena. I'm even proud of MK, she still is the third best female skater in the world.