Already and unfortunately after a brief re-emergence for about two weeks, apparently my daughter has gone missing again. I had brought over a bag of insect spray cans, lotions and other ointments to give her, even though my own body has a long way to go, before recovering from the assualts I have suffered while living here. The last time I saw her, we could not talk because a disagreement rose up about venetian blinds and whether the blinds might provide a more protective structure over the large sliding doors (the complete back wall) of her bedroom. Shayne was still busy and in the rubble of decorating her new apartment. Shayne suggested that maybe the metal cages they slide over the store windows at night would be better and then flew out of the room, crying and upset. Thomas walked into her house at that time and hearing the commotion jumped right into the fracus, "sledgehamnering" me for always driving my side of the case too hard. Thomas was more worked up than anyone and, after rushing ourselves out of the house and into the auto, he shouted his head off at me for the next half hour driving home. That was Saturday, two weeks ago I had tried to get Thomas to set up an Internet connection for Shayne, having smuggled an extra amd defunked modem out of the house to show her but neither Thomas nor Shayne seem to understand the value of an immediate Internet connection, as it seems her cell phone is turned-off everytime I try to call. Shayne declared she could get Internet anytime by calling a company to install it, etc. Well, here it is two weeks later and I haven't seen her since. Papers and mail and a note I put through her mail-slot two weeks ago are piling up on the floor. A bike is parked encouragingly on the stoop in front of her house, but no matter how I scream and knock (the doorbell having become broken after the first time I saw her) no sign of Shayne. And what is worse, I have been puzzled, in the mean time, by the various IP addresses that head the emails of Lucille's letters. Is this because her mail is forwarded to various Call Centers around the world, before arriving in my email? In any case, the tones and fonts of Lucille's emails vary all the time and I wonder if there are several impersonators or hackers who edit her messages. Meanwhile, Thomas has just returned from a shaky 5-day trip North. And, again, this weekend, not a sign of Shayne. Almost three weeks ago, she answered her phone and asked, "Could I call you back?" and that was the last I heard from her. The first time I saw her after an 8-month absence, Shayne had stated that she heard that I have left testiments and declarations to her on the Internet and she asked would I remove them, now that I knew she was alive. I told her yes, although I wondered how she or others knew what I was doing on the Internet? (Shayne only re-emerged after I reported her probable death to the Department of Internal Revenue). Then there was the drama of Ayan Ali, the legislator from Somalia, who, some months after a stormy, tragic incident, abandoned her post and new home in Holland to emigrate to the U.S. For a week, "breaking news" local TV stations broadcast her drama to the viewers. In the end, the legislator was accused of not being a Dutch citizen, who should have her passport revoked etc., even though such an act, if undertaken, would precisely demonstrate the duplicity and irony of a government system, that would allow a candidate to run and be elected for a position, without having determined whether such a person could legitimately do so. True "Dutch citizenship" is never granted to foreigners, it is my belief and experience. And then suddenly, the furor was over and when the dust settled, I was left with my problem of my disappearing daughter. She had not even re-surfaced long enough for me to tell her how desperate I was to return to the U.S. and how I could have left her behind, thinking she was no longer alive.