Dear Diary— My name is Rebecca Josephine Kent, Jo Kal-El. My dad's name is Clark and my Mom's name is Lois. I have one brother named Jason, and he is married to Danielle and they live in Kansas on a farm. Jason is the oldest so he's the only one who's married. My oldest sister's name is Molly, she's 8 years older than me. Joanna is the next older, she's 6 years older than me. And Brigit is next and she's 4 years older than me. And today is my birthday and I'm 9. We had a grand party at Jason and Daneille's house in Kansas, with cake and ice cream. Everybody managed to come, but Molly was late because she had to work, but that's okay. She gave me a big hug as soon as she got there and picked me up, flying us up around the house, over the roof. I laughed the whole way, and Mom shouted at her to bring me back so that I could open presents. I've always liked Grandma Martha's farmhouse and the barn and all the land around it. She died when I was three, so I didn't get to meet her a lot, but it feels very good to be here. There's so much space. I always go on walks, and nobody minds how long I'm gone so long as I stay on the property, which isn't hard to do because it's all fenced in. I think this diary is my most favorite present. It's from Danielle. I don't know where she bought it—it doesn't look like anything I've seen at any of the stores we go to at home. It's got a red leather cover with a fancy sort of latch on the side. All the ones at the store seem to have diary or my diary or something on the front in shiny letters, and I don't really like them. This one is just plain red cover. Mom says writing in diaries is supposed to be therapudic. She's always going on about all of us, me and Jason and Molly and Joanna and Brigit, needing therapy. I don't know if she's joking or not most the time.

Dear Diary—Lots of things happened this week. After we got back home from Kansas—Molly flew me, so it was a quick trip but not very exciting—everything got to normal very fast. Dad flew off to somewhere to help people while Mom unpacked us. Brigit threw a fit about leaving her left clog at Jason's and wouldn't relax until Mom called Jason and he brought it for her. Mom was angry with Brigit after that, as usual.

Joanna and I snuck into the office and watched Dad on TV. Mom caught us and it only made her madder. We were all sent to bed even though Dad wasn't back yet.

Dear Diary—Joanna asked Andy from the movie store to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Mom thought it was funny and teased her a lot, andDad hardly said a word, but I'm pretty sure I caught him smiling when he thought nobody was looking.

Will they be so awful when I ask a boy to Sadie Hawkins?

Dear Diary—I can hardly write because I'm shaking so much. All my life, I watched my older siblings and my Dad move faster and be stronger than anybody else. Anybody not in our family. I never really thought about it. I always knew that someday I would be able to do the special things that they can, I just never thought about it all before. It's not the first time I began to be able to do something special, but it was the first time that it left me shaking a lot. It started at school during recess. Everybody just started moving so slow. I stopped what I was doing, and just watched. It looked like everybody was trying to push against the wind as they moved, even though there was no wind. I couldn't breathe; everything moved in slow motion, but it wasn't like in books when the narrator says that it was like the world slowed down. It actually did. Or at least I sped up.

I think Dad was keeping an eye out for me, because he swooped down out of nowhere and scooped me up. At least he was moving right, his smile not creeping across his face and his voice wasn't stretching out into a creepy low tones, like when the sound waves slowed down in movies. He took me to Kansas even though Jason and Danielle are at the hospital in Wichita right now. They just had another baby—they're calling him Bobby and he is my nephew. I've never thought the farm was small before. The fields always seemed to go on forever, and I could walk through the corn and never run out of it before somebody dropped from the sky and flew me back to the house for dinner. I used to wonder what it must be like to grow up in a family without Superman for a dad, with older brother and sisters who have been able to fly for as long as I can remember. The farm got a lot smaller when I was able to move quickly. A few steps through the corn took hardly any time at all, making an easy walk through the field take hardly a second. My blood pumped faster—I could hear it in my ears. And my breathing was faster and everything was just moving to fast. I wanted it to stop, no matter how often I've seen Jason and Molly go across the room in a second. Everything was just too fast. And then Dad was there. I don't remember what he said, but it helped. He kept up with me when my legs carried me across the field, and he held onto me when I tripped on a root I hardly noticed as fast as I was moving.

Dear Diary—Dad got a promotion today, but I don't think he wanted it. Mom's the Editor-in-Chief, so I think people might be talking about favoritism or something. And Dad's so busy anyway. I could never get how he keeps the secrets he keeps and how he manages everything. He's Superman. The world's hero. But he's also my dad, and I can't remember a time that he missed anything really important, any of Jason's piano recitals he didn't make it to or Molly's soccer games or Brigit's plays or picking me up from school.

How is he supposed to be the assistant editor for the International section at the Daily Planet, a big job, when he has so much else to do? It will be more difficult to sneak out when he needs to with his own office with glass walls that everybody can see through and notice when he's not there.

I don't know what Mom was thinking.

Dear Diary—Mom and Dad had their first fight ever, I think. It was about Dad's promotion. I didn't hear most of it because Brigit kept turning the TV up and Molly had turned on her white noise machine.

My parents never fight.

Dear Diary—Joanna turned fifteen today. Just like for all our birthdays, we went to Kansas to have her party with Jason, with the fields and things to run around in after the party. It wasn't as much fun as other birthdays were. I think Mom and Dad are still fighting, only quieter. I feel bad for Joanna. She opened all her presents—I picked out a DVD for her and wrapped it and everything—but mostly we were just nervous about where things had come to be between Mom and Dad. Jason, I think, was trying to make things happier between everybody. And Molly and her boyfriend broke up right before we left home. She cried and cried and could hardly fly in a straight line on the way here. Jason was carrying me (he always comes to get us when things are ready for parties at the farm) and he kept having to pull her along. He's a great big brother, I think. He's the only one who makes sense right now—Molly's been crying a lot (she's sworn off boys and says she's going to become one of those doctors, the kind on TV who are so good at what they do that they don't need boyfriends), Joanna's been sulking because everybody's upset on her birthday, Brigit is always, always grumpy, and Mom and Dad keep fake smiling.

Dear Diary—We didn't go back to Jason's for Brigit's fourteenth birthday (yes, it's been that long since I wrote last). Everybody only just stopped being mad at each other. That's not why we didn't go back, though—Danielle's sick. Dad's been in Kansas for a week, calling home every night and talking to Mom on the phone for hours and hours (at least they're not fighting anymore. I don't know what really made them stop, but I'm just glad they're done.) He's helping Jason.

Molly finally got over her ex-boyfriend, though she's sticking to her plan to become a doctor. She went to the library and checked out lots of anatomy books, which make Mom scowl whenever she sees them. Molly won't let me look in any of them

Joanna's been sulking since her birthday. She won't speak to Mom, but I don't know what made it her fault. Brigit's no better now, either. They've become partners against the rest of the family, sitting in the office and watching TV while Mom's too distracted pacing in the kitchen waiting for Dad to call with more news. Molly's been reading her books in her room.

It's always been Jason that I talk to when people are weird or mad at each other. For living on a farm in the middle of nowhere, he just gets people. I can never understand my family. I hope Danielle gets out of the hospital soon so that Jason can explain them to me.

And Sam broke his arm at school yesterday during recess.

Dear Diary—Alice White, one of Mom and Dad's friends from work, died today. I didn't really know her, but she used to come over for dinner sometimes. Mom and Dad and Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Ron are all very sad about it.

Dear Diary—Today was Mrs. White's funeral and something happened. The funeral was pretty and all—it was nice outside and the grass was very green—but her nephew, Richard, came to the funeral. Dad and Mom and Jason all got nervous when they saw him, and then later they were all whispering about it, and then Molly was put in charge and the three of them went out.

Mom's been crying a lot since then. Mom never cries. I don't know what's wrong.

Dear Diary—Today was Jason's birthday, but he wouldn't let us celebrate. I bought him a new tie, but he wouldn't let me give it to him. I've been crying a lot too now.

Molly's been working a lot more often—she told Mom she's been picking up shifts at the theater to keep busy. Mom thinks she has a secret boyfriend. They fight about it a lot.

Joanna and Brigit are still not talking much. Dad says they're giving us the cold shoulder. Even when Mom ordered pizza last night and forced us all to eat together. Except Dad. He was gone again.

Dear Diary—Molly turned nineteen today. She didn't let us celebrate her birthday, either. Actually, she flew away. Mom cried again, and I cried too. She held onto me—I think she was telling me never to fly away from her like Molly did, but I wasn't listening.

Jason came home before Dad (there was an earthquake that turned into a landslide and he's been away for two days). Mom was still crying. She kicked Joanna and Brigit out of the office and locked herself inside. She's never done that before. Jason made me popcorn and then made me tell him what was going on and then he went after Molly. They haven't come back yet.

Dear Diary—I've never seen Dad mad before. He got home right before Jason hauled Molly in. From what I heard through their—Jason, Molly, Mom and Dad's—shouting, Molly left because she was sad about not going to Jason's house for her birthday and angry about all the fighting she's been doing with Mom. Mom hated that Molly could just fly away from her like that, and she was mad that Dad hadn't been home to keep her from doing it. Dad was furious with Molly for just flying away and he didn't seem to know what to say to Mom. Jason was mad at all of them. I've never seen him that mad, either.

Brigit and Joanna actually let me sit with them in the office while we listened to everybody else fight.

Dear Diary—Today was the first-ever family talk. It sucked. Dad made us all sit in the living room and we talked about everybody's feelings. I was pretty close to right about everything from before, but that didn't make it any better. Everybody's still mad, but now everybody knows it.

Dear Diary—Dad's been great since the family talk, at least to me. He sits with me and he talks to me. It's nice that somebody actually talks to me—only Jason ever used to do that, and he's been gone a lot or sad when he's here since Danielle was sick. He even brought me to visit with his Uncle Rick yesterday afternoon. He's in a nursing home that smells like old people, but he's a really funny guy. I wish I was with him now instead of here—Brigit started hovering last night in her sleep and so now Dad's been giving her flying lessons at the Fortress all day.

Dear Diary—Molly left for school today. She's going to Metropolis University, which is just across town, but she's living with a friend who goes there too. Mom was really upset that she wasn't living at home, like they'd talked about.

I miss Jason. Everything was better before Danielle got sick.

Dear Diary—School started again today, and I'm almost happy about it. I get to see my friends every day, and I can pretend to be normal. My family broke over the summer.

Dear Diary—I'm ten today.

Dear Diary—I haven't written anything in a really long time, but that's because so much has been happening!

I found out that Danielle was so sick because she was having trouble being pregnant, and so she and Jason were arguing a lot because he didn't want her to try to have more kids if it was going to hurt her, but she wanted more kids. It's all better now, though, because she just had twins—Isabel and Natalie, they're identical!—and I'm their godmother. The doctors had to do a surgery to get the babies out and then make it so that she can't have any more kids, otherwise she was going to die, so she's sad about that, but they have five kids and that's a lot to be happy about, I think.

Jason has been talking to me a lot more since Danielle got better, even if he is really busy with the two brand new babies. I like it—Mom and Dad even let me stay in Kansas for a weekend and play with Kendra, Johnny and Bobby, and make them lunch and things so that Jason and Danielle can take care of the babies.

And Mom and Molly aren't mad at each other anymore, even though Molly still doesn't live at home. Mom closed herself in the office and they talked on the computer (sometimes I get to Skype with Molly, too) for a long time. Mom said Molly's going to be a translator for the police, but for right now she got a job at the Shattered Barrel (the jazz place where Jason used to play piano) as a cook, which means that she can pay for her apartment and be responsible.

And Joanna stopped being angry about everything. She's been playing with me a lot lately and teaching me Kryptonian—everybody else speaks it almost as good as English, but they don't use it often enough that I can learn it just from listening to them. It's not fair. It's better since she's teaching me, though.

Brigit is still mean most of the time.

Dear Diary—I can fly!

Sort of.

Dad says "these things come over time." But it's really annoying when I can do something—like fly—one day but not the next. It's like when Brigit was twelve and some days she could see through things and other days she couldn't and she kept walking into things and she had to stay home from school. Or like when Joanna had freezing breath for two hours and then it never came back.

Everybody else can fly, though. It stuck with everybody.

Jason can do everything Dad can, but that's because of some light thing that Dad did at the Fortress that he won't do to anybody else because we don't need it. He says taking medicine when you're not sick is bad for you.

But Molly can see far away and move really fast and fly and she doesn't get cut or anything ever. And Joanna can fly too, and she has all Dad's abilities with her eyes—the heat and x-ray vision, being able to see really far away and like a microscope. And Brigit's really fast and strong. And she can fly.

I'm tired of being the only one who can't at least fly. Mom says she likes somebody to be earth-bound with her, so I don't complain about it when she's around. But still.

I hate being the littlist.

Dear Diary—I still can't fly, but I've been able to cool my drinks with my breath for two months now. It's kind of a lame super-power. Uncle Jimmy likes it because he's always drinking iced tea or soda pop, and he likes to have me blow on the surface and make it just as cold as if it had ice cubes in it without putting ice into it (he hates when the ice melts and leaves his drinks watery).

It doesn't even work to keep ice cream cold—it just makes the edges frosty.

Dear Diary—I can fly now. It's harder than I thought it would be. I have to go to the Fortress with Dad a lot to practice. Going to the Fortress made us notice that I have another 'power,' though. I'm invulnerable, like Molly.

Dad forgot to turn on the heat in the Fortress today, but I didn't get cold, and of course he didn't notice. It was hard to test after that, though, because what if I wasn't really invulnerable? What if I was just 'warm-blooded,' like Mom always says Dad is.

It was easy to tell when I messed up flying, though—I flew straight into one of the big crystal pillars at the Fortress, but instead of breaking my face I broke it. It didn't end up being any problem because the crystal regrew itself after Dad (laughing at me the whole time) pushed a few buttons on the Big Frozen Head Computer.

So now I have to have flying lessons and Dad's going to try to help me get good at pretending I can get hurt. That part's harder than I thought it would be too. I know that I don't have to worry about getting burned or getting a papercut, so I don't worry about touching hot things or being careful with the edges of paper or knives or anything. But what if I grab a hot cookie sheet when I'm making cookies at Pete's house? What if I fall down at recess and I should get hurt but I don't?

This is more hard than I ever thought it would be.

Dear Diary—Everybody is all over the place right now! Brigit ran away to Kansas and she won't talk to Mom or Dad or even me or Joanna. Jason is being really nice about it, but he called here when she was asleep last night because he's worried about her.

She's pregnant!

Mom and Dad are furious with her, but I think it's more because she ran away than because she's having a baby.

I don't know what's going to happen.

Dear Diary—I don't think Brigit knows what she's doing. She had her baby—his name is Tiberius—awhile ago, but then she left him, just this week, with Jason and Danielle to go be an actress.

Dad went after her, to finally talk to her about everything (she wouldn't visit with anybody when she was pregnant, so Mom and Dad decided to wait until Tiberius was born). Jason and Mom talked him out of it when she was in Kansas, but now it seems like he was right all along. He didn't come back for awhile, and when he did he was still angry. He told Mom they'd yelled at each other and she hadn't listened to anything and she didn't want to see anybody from the family for the rest of her life. (They don't know I could hear what they were saying in the kitchen through the vents in the upstairs bedroom that used to be Molly's.)

At least Jason and Danielle are excited to have Tiberius living with them. Danielle wanted another baby or something, I guess.

Dear Diary—I am starting high school tomorrow, and so I think I'm probably too old to keep a diary anymore.

Dear Diary—Kyle and I are officially going out! I know I said I wasn't going to write anymore, but I can't help it. If I told Mom and Dad or anybody they'd make fun of me.

I've known him since kindergarten and he's always been really nice and today he told me that he likes me and he wants to go out with me. We're going to a movie tomorrow night with a bunch of other friends, so Mom and Dad won't know I'm actually on a date.

Dear Diary—The movie was lame, but I got to hold Kyle's hand the whole time. *SQUEE!*

Dear Diary—Pete's been my best friend forever and that's the only reason I'll probably talk to him again in a year. I don't know what's wrong with him—maybe his parents are fighting again—but he's been super weird. We're going on the band trip to Disney World in Florida together in a month, so I hope he's not a dick then. A whole week stuck with him while he's being awful and moody is not my idea of fun, and Kyle can't go because he's not in band.

Dear Diary—Florida was fine. We played the music for I Can't Wait to Be King from the Lion King in a studio and we had passes to all the theme parks and we had a lot of the time to just do whatever we wanted. We even got to march in a Disney World parade (it was crazy hot, so everybody else was sweaty and miserable, but I kind of liked it).

Pete was back to normal on the trip. I think it was because we were away from his parents. Now that we're back home he's being weird again.

Date with Kyle—write more later!

Dear Diary—You were stolen, did you know that? You ought to come with security.

Joanna thought she'd be all smart and go through my stuff while I was at work (if those pages were still in place, there would be a record of all my lists of the places I applied to before I finally got a job at the Chinese place on the corner (hell if I can spell it), and all the lovely, emotional details of my breakup with Kyle). She ripped out a whole five pages from last year I think she probably tore them out because last year I mostly wrote about her.

She graduated from college awhile ago and she's been doing internships and tests and law school because she's going to be a lawyer, but she was trying to do art for fun, too. She's been living with Bruce in Gotham (his house is sure big enough), and he didn't mind buying her art supplies because he thought it made her happy. So she had this whole painting studio going on, and she had a gallery pick up a few of her paintings and there was a show and everything—but then Dad and Bruce started fighting about wasting time and overextending and yadda yadda. It's all over now, so it doesn't seem like such a big deal.

Joanna's really good at art. She's always painted and done photography. Now she's prettymuch finished with law school and she'll be a lawyer, but who knows what she'll end up actually doing. I don't think it matters so much, but Mom and Dad have had this grand plan in mind for her since forever—she's the smartest of us.

Jason is an organic farmer who puts half his time into helping other farms around Kansas become more sustainable. Molly works as a translator at the UN. Brigit doesn't speak to us, but she's a very famous actress in LA. Mom and Dad have both won tons of prizes for their writing, Mom runs the second largest newspaper in the world, Dad is Superman in his spare time. It's a lot to live up to, especially when everybody's been saying you're the smartest of the bunch your whole life.

I think that's why she stays in Gotham so much. Uncle Bruce lets her do her own thing (like the art) on the side, doesn't make her be on task studying to be a lawyer all the time. She's been talking about chucking the lawyer thing and the art and opening up her own bar, just to make Mom and Dad angry—I think she should go for it, then there'd be less pressure on me! (And she's my favorite sister and I think she'd be happier running a bar than running trials.)

Yeah, that was way more than I meant to write about the past year that Joanna stole out of here.

Take that, Joanna—I wrote more about you to fill up those pages you stole!

I swear if you rip these pages out (and if you're even reading this I am GOING TO BE SO PISSED AT YOU) I'll fly to Gotham and kick your derriere!

Dear Diary—JOANNA WUZ HERE!

(you're my favorite too, B!)

Dear Diary—Joanna stole you again. Obviously. At least she only kinda vandalized you this time.

Exciting things are afoot! Dad has officially retired from the Daily Planet because he's been trying to balance the International Editor thing with the Superman thing for years and it's just not working. He's never home anymore, which makes him and Mom both grumpy, and he's tired all the time, which is a feat in and of itself.

SO, now that he's retired he's going to have all this free time. Sorta. Anyway, the he's taking me on a tour of Europe!

He agreed to write a blog thing for the Planet about the sites and whatnot as a well-traveled tourist as a sort of parting thing. And he's taking me because I'll be on my summer break and as a graduating from high school present. (Pete is so jealous!) It'll also be good for the blog, he says, to be able to write about an inexperienced traveler's opinions on the stuff we're doing and the places we're visiting and stuff.

The bonus here is that the Planet is funding part of the trip and I'm thinking I'm going to blog about it, too—maybe it'll turn into a career? (Who knows—I'm at that in-between place for high school and college where everybody wants to know my major and I have no idea.)

Dear Diary—Becca's out of the country and she didn't bring you along. So I'm stealing you again.

Really, B, you need to hide this thing better.

Dear Diary—I'm going to point out that it is pointless to hide things when a good portion of the family can see through anything I'd hide it in. So there.

Stop stealing my diary, it's the principle of the thing.

(See blog for summary of AWESOME summer abroad—yes, I'm talking to you, Jo, as you seem to be reading this just as much as you'd be reading a blog…)

Dear Diary—You are running out of pages.

Also, I've replaced you with a blog. Because everything's online now. You gotta keep up with the media, man.

SHE TOTALLY LEFT THIS BACK PAGE OPEN! JUST FOR ME? perhaps

EAT AT JOE'S

(J was here!)

—hearts, kid