Dear Diary,

Dear Diary,

The professor brought me this diary so that I could write down everything I was thinking. He said it would help me to understand my own emotions as they came, or something like that. I like it, he must have pulled out the credit card on this thing. It has a dark reddish-brown leather cover. There's a lot of gold ivy vines around the edges, and has my name embossed in silver on the cover. It has a lock on it too, shaped like a really big ivy leaf, and the key looks like an old skeleton key. He gave me this real cool crystal pen, the old kind that you have to dip in ink to keep writing, nubs (what a stupid name) and a book on calligraphy. The thing I like about it best is the paper. I think its hand made, as a matter of fact I think the whole thing is handmade, and it feels a little rough when you touch it, but its real soft, almost like fur. The edges are gold too. At first I didn't want to write in it because it was too pretty, then I thought, what the fuck, right? Its rude to not use something that was brought for you to use.

Its been about a month since I fell off the roof. I can't even go up there anymore. Just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt. The prof's been helping me with my psychic powers and stuff, teaching me to locate people just by feeling for their minds. I think its fun, at least I won't walk in on Hank while he's brushing again. I mean, I didn't know he had to brush the hair "there", though I have to admit I liked the free show, (Cece must be bowlegged by now.) but it was still pretty embarrassing. I can feel my leash' a little better now, not like its chaffing or anything. I just feels like a light veil, that's the closest comparison I can make of it. I have to admit the man has skills.

Things are pretty quiet now, mostly because its almost two in the morning. I can almost feel the old man, he's in his study, still working on how he's going to find a contractor to build the new pool house, one that wont blab everything he hears and sees, and he's too nice to blind-side them. I like the idea, because the pool gets really cold around winter, and I have no intention of freezing my ass off if I don't have too, even with the heater. He's even springing for a ten foot jacuzzi. Kind of makes you wonder where he gets all his money, not that he tells us anything. Sometimes I think that he's this huge drug dealer that no one notices, because really, who's going to suspect a fifty-something upper class new yorker of selling coke. Then I slap myself, because he's as against doing stuff like that as you can get. From all reports he went ape when Bobby tried acid. (Though he didn't mind that much when he found some weed in Hanks drawer, hmmmmm.)

Lila was right about one thing, I had to start dealing again. I mean, come on, I'd been in situations like that one before, just not as harsh. I used to sell myself to get passages on ships, money, food, anything before I met up with Logan, and not all of the johns were exactly the nice type. I guess its just that before I had a choice, you know. I could take it or leave it. I dealt with that, just like I dealt with loosing my parents, and with everything else my shitty life had to throw at me. So life's tough, no shit Sherlock, you have to get over it. I'd gotten so used to things being kind of fair that I forgot the cardinal rule in life, that its not fair, that its down right terrible, and the sooner you learn that, the easier it gets to live it. I'd been taking everything for granted, thinking that I would always be safe, that nothing could touch me if I didn't want it to. I mean, at least I recovered, I'm not some drooling idiot in the basement, I'm not homicidal, I wasn't horribly scared, at least not on the outside. There's nothing I have to see every time I look I the mirror that lets me know what happened.

So what happens now? I don't know, and for the first time I actually feel good about that. I don't have to worry about being upstaged because I don't know something that someone else does. I still get nightmares sometimes, and sometimes I think I see or hear one of them, but even that's fading. Memories are designed that way, so once I stopped harping on them, they went away. The ticking is taking a little longer, though, but now I can go for a whole day without hearing it. The professor even went so far as to silence every ticking clock in the mansion (after I asked him).

Logan's thinking about taking me on another rode trip, and I'm kind of looking forward to it. Getting out and about again is something I haven't been real good at. I still panic if I'm in a large crowd by myself, but the professor says that's normal, he even scolded me when I said it was childish (I've been around him for too long, I'm using a word like scolding, ewwww). I'm getting better at touching, though. I can almost not jump if someone touches me and I don't know their going too. Just take it one day at a time, that's what both Lila and Baldy keep saying. I wonder if they know how alike they really are. Neither one will tell me what happened, and its just begging for someone to jump in and stir things up. Who knows, maybe I can get them back together. Neither one will admit it, but I think their both real lonely.

Oh well, gotta run, soups on and storm's making her famous leg of lamb stuffed with rice and pine nuts. I just love that stuff.

Talk to ya later,

Jubilation Lee