Madeleina for the Millionth Time, but Never Enough

How many times have I written about my beautiful Madeleina on this blog. A hundred? It may seem like a lot to you all but it's never enough for me, given who she is.
Lately she's been crabbing about not wanting to go to school, about how all the kids there are too dumb to talk with, too narrow minded to hang around with, or just too boring. I think that just means she has no friends this year and hates that. So I'm trying to encourage her to see some good spots. I recognize that most of her peers have not had the upbringing she has. I also recognize that she really is smarter than most of those kids, and more well read, and more well traveled and all that. But, I remind her, there must be someone who's as clever as she, or someone who, like her, makes up songs. There must be someone who's funny.
Well, I'm sure there are, and I've put it to her to find that interesting trait that will make someone appeal to her so that she's got a lunch buddy or someone to hang with after school if I'm late. Not that she helps with the outlandish outfits she wears. Yesterday she wore a children's sheet that Chepa had made into a long halloween skirt, striped socks, and a blouse I never saw because it was covered with another skirt that she put over her head and let drape on her shoulders.
"I look fabulous, don't I?" she asked.
She looked ridiculous, but I told her she looked great. But that she should look in the mirror just to double check her choices.
"Dad, those kids are so dumb they won't even notice that I'm dressed like an insane old lady who has two skirts on."
"Darling, they might very well notice and then stay away, the way people tend to stay away from crazy old ladies."
She wore the get up anyway and came home complaining that she hated school because the kids are so dumb.
I let her rant.
This morning she came in to the office and lay down on the couch at 4:45 AM. I was up early and it was beautiful to have her sleeping just behind me.
At 7 on the dot she got up, stood in the middle of the room and announced, "I hate school. School is for losers..." and then she pointed a finger at me. "Losers like you."
And then she went off to get dressed.
When she came out she announced that the funny people at school weren't really funny, they just wanted attention. And the smart kids were smart, maybe smarter than her, but all they talk about were things she finds boring, like television shows and junk.
"What I want is to go to a school where people talk about being spies. I want to be a spy. I want a hook I can throw on top of a building and then climb up a rope attached to it. And I want to be a singer. A famous singer and secretly a spy. But then everyone would be jealous, wouldn't they? And they'd try to kill me. Assassination on stage, during a brilliant performance. Oh, god, why? Why do I have to die?"
There's just not many places a conversation can go after that. So I went off to make her a tuna sandwich while she practiced her dying swoon.