Went to the Teleportation Roulette competition yesterday. Talk about intense! Our kids only lost by one.... We were on the edge of our plastic patio chairs from beginning to end!

Now, I know not all school districts allow these kinds of events, so for the sake of you kiddos who aren't familiar with the game I'll summarize it quick:
There's two teams of ten students, and one scruffy looking propeller hat (you know the type). Each player will pick up the hat, spin the propeller, and place it one their head. The hat, gifted with a semi-consciousness and talent for wrinkling space time, will randomly decide if it will teleport its wearer or leave them be. Whether or not the student disappears and the hat calmly drifts to the ground, the hat is then spun and worn by the next player closest to it. If you leave the playing field, either physically moving or via teleportation, you lose.

The trick is that 1.) Until the propeller stops spinning, you can move around the playing field and 2.) You can counter the hat's teleportation with your own. So, while the hat is spinning, there's this crazy flurry of kids running and pushing towards and away and trying to read the future to see the probability of them losing if they wear the hat next. And once you're stuck with the hat, you can take the chance to counter-teleport -- with the risk being that if you counter when the hat hadn't tried to teleport you, you've accidentally eliminated yourself from the game! It's insane to watch.

So yeah, when the grand timekeeper blew the whistle we had lost 9 players and Martingale High had lost 8. Lower score wins, so they won, which was a bummer. Some people claim that Martingale was projecting teleportation onto our players to force them into being the next ones to wear the hat, but I think they're just sore losers. At least it was a fun game to spectate. And the kettle corn at the concessions was fantastic.

Why is it that things get busy all at once? Like, one day there's nothing going on and things are so quiet that you lose track of time and end up submerged in the river of common lifeforce for five hours over the recommended soakage time. And then other days, there are text messages from like ten different friends, a call from your grandparents, fifteen college letters/scrolls, two initiations of crucial character-developing quests, and three different cryptic messages from the future -- two of which obviously caused by a paradox. Yikes. Why can't these things spread themselves out? At least doomsday prophecies are polite enough to contact you way ahead of time. Everyone else is so disorganized.

Lucky for me, today was a relaxed day. Even my family members were out. I got to chill and enjoy not being bothered by anybody for a bit. I mean, I can feel the pressure in my head that means someone left a MindMessenger message for me. But I was already busy listening to music and cleaning my room and stuff, so I haven't opened it yet. It's probably either one of my clubs calling an "emergency" summer meeting, or a reminder that I signed up to volunteer tomorrow (my mom and I are going to go hand out hand-made capes and cloaks to needy witches! There's always room for more helpers if any other students want to jump in). Either way, it can wait. Sometimes you just need a day to be yourself, by yourself, you know?

I knew a girl that was in my grade a time ago who was always so busy with all these side projects and commitments that eventually she turned into a pig and ran off into the night never to be seen again. The teachers said that she was actually a wereboar and had been neglecting the rituals needed to keep herself more human-y, but I think she stressed herself out too much and cracked under the pressure. Stranger things have happened.

Guess who's back! Back again! Klarya's back! Tell a friend!

...sorry, I know, I know, I have an awful singing voice. Well, at least in this frequency I do. Give me a song at around 10 or 20 Hz and I can belt it out like nobody's business. That's probably one of my favorite parts about our annual family vacation to the ocean. The whales always have a new melody I can pick up.

Hmmm? Where've I been? Come on, you can't expect me to post constantly throughout the summer, can you? I'm a busy girl. And with my new-- er, well, I've found a way to keep busy. Besides volunteering and summer classwork and blah blah blah.

What? Watermelon? Oh. Right. ... It got... picked up. That whole thing is out of my hands now. A nice... golden man has it, said that there was another... project... that needed it more. Well, I don't know if he was nice. Secretive, sure. But he mentioned @Jess Gynn, so I trusted him. She's cool. So don't worry about it, kiddo.

Geez, you have a lot of questions today. Recipes? Why're you so worked up about a recipe? No, I haven't been making anything. I'm not that great at cooking... PB&J sandwich is about as far as I go, culinary-wise. You never know which ingredients have fulfilled Theory of Mind, and I'd never forgive myself if I did something stupid accidentally. Like chopping up a vampiric garlic clove that had aspirations of becoming the first in its garden to attend college.

Hey, now, don't give me that look. Some things I can't say, alright? Try to understand. When you get an opportunity like this, especially with so much of the future in flux, you have to take it. Maybe one day I'll tell you all what happened. But right now, I've got to stay in good graces. I'm still on probation -- you know how secretive and un-trusting people like us can be.

So run along now, little underclassmen. You'll get your time to shine one day, I'm sure. It's crazy, really, how drastically things change in just one cycle of the school year. Just remember to keep your head clear and your eyes open, and you'll catch on quick, I know it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got an AP Anthroposophy assignment due by the witching hour tonight. Oh, and... don't mess with fireflies for a while. At least a week. Please, stop asking me questions and just do it! You trust me, right?

Well, I'm back and fully-powered again. Apparently the electrical system around here was overloaded by "unprecedented levels of energy". My friend thinks that it was @Alastor Dimitri. I hope he's okay. Those who dig deeper into Psyhigh are more often than not just digging their own graves.

Personally, I think the secret society that's begun stalking me is behind the local power failure, but you can't say those kinds of things out loud. Not when you're being watched, like I am. With my Other Eyes I can see the wispy trails of where their careful footsteps traced the edges of the property. I'm considering buying some of the Children's Circle's recently animated vegetables as extra security. Some of their creations came out rather peeved at their newfound consciousness. The Zucchinis are especially vicious.

I finally got around to working on the watermelon's recipe. It was kind of tricky getting the Khepri shells finely ground. Whenever you strike them with the pestle, sparks fly, and if the sparks land on the wall tapestry, then the tapestry catches fire, and if it catches fire, then smoke fills the room, and if smoke fills the room, then you have to open a window, and if you open a window, a very stupid owl may fly in, and once the owl gets stuck inside then things really go to heck. That's why you grind Khepri exoskeletons outside on your driveway, where things don't catch fire so easily.

And since it was the Fourth of July, my brother used the leftovers to make some experimental (and probably not legal) fireworks. He claimed that he and his buddies did this kind of thing all the time at college and that he's basically an expert at it, but I think he just watched a How-To video online. I'll admit it though: the end result was rather pretty.

The thing I made with the recipe still has to sit for a while. I'm supposed to pour it out of the bowl at sunrise. I can't really tell yet if it's a solid or a liquid. It's just kind of there, sulking at the bottom of the plastic tupperware. I'm keeping it safe and sound hidden somewhere in my room for now. I'd keep it in the fridge, but after the break-in earlier I'm a bit wary about leaving things like this out in the open. I can already feel Their presence outside again. Probing. Considering. Watching.

For now, I sent word to the guy who gave me the recipe that it's almost done. I figured he'd like to know. Maybe he'll give me some more insight, or maybe he'll have another freak-out. Who can say. All I know is that I need to find a way to clean the scorch marks off of my mortar. And eventually do something about that idiot owl.

See, secret societies are cool only if you're in them. If you're being manipulated or obstructed though, they get annoying really quick.

So, it started when I noticed the watermelon was gone. I mean, I could easily just recall the memory of the encryption if I used the Sauna of Recollections at school (something especially helpful when you lose your homework assignment) but I'd already written down the translation, so it wasn't really necessary. More than anything I was unnerved that someone had gotten into the house without our security cantrips being set off. And why did they take the melon, but not the translated recipe? Or even my hippocampus, to ensure I'd never recall this knowledge? Obviously, they did it to send a message. A message of how much they know.

Dad worked really hard crafting those security cantrips. Y'know, his face just lights up whenever he thinks up a new one. If he learns somebody slipped through without getting entangled in his traps, he'll be despondent all week. Between that and Mom's already obvious distaste for my "weird watermelon project", there's no way I can tell them that someone/thing broke in and stole the fruit. When Mom asked what happened to it I panicked and said I donated it to the local Children's Circle for an animation project they were working on. She got all excited and called one of the sages to offer her insight/assistance. He sounded confused, yet intrigued. So there may be some living vegetables roaming around this Fourth of July. I hope nobody is afraid of eggplants with agendas.

Back on topic, I spent some time meditating on the situation, and I think I've figured out my next steps. It'll need to -- whoa, energy surge. All the lights in my house just did that flashy thing.
...jeez.
There's a lot of static in the air, too. Thick enough to pour into a cup. Hurts my annulus of Zinn to Look at it. In fact, the neighbor's cat just waddled by with all its fur standing on end. Is there a electrokinesis holiday today I don't know about?

Well, anyway, if I want to contain the--

[ERROR: energy overload. Computer forcing shut down to prevent system damage. Sending incomplete post. Reboot computer when energy levels have re-stabilized.]

Somebody stole the watermelon.

Wow, I forgot what a pain encryptions are. I had to power up my old Communication Crystal so I could contact Prof. Fringle. You know him, the guy who leaves secret messages around the school to encourage students to keep their decoding skills up? He even gives out little prizes if you solve enough of them. Once I got this shriveled monkey paw for solving his ceiling-tile messages. Supposedly it grants wishes, but any psychic worth their aura knows that wishes granted through Dark, Necromantic, Nega, Genie, Vengeful, and/or Leprechaun forces never end well. So instead I sacrificed it during the Spring Cleaning Bonfire, where students can safely dispose of the unsafe, unstable, and unwanted objects they took from their school dorm. That's actually where I met my first boyfriend! Ah, memories.

Oop, I'm rambling. Back on topic, Prof. Fringle helped me out with the watermelon writing. We had to put it through several different systems, but eventually we got it. He didn't know what to make of it, but I think it's a recipe. I know he was hoping for a prophecy -- Psyhigh hasn't produced any dramatic ones in like, ages -- but I prefer a recipe. It's more... engaging. Prophecies you just sit around and wait for Fate to set things in motion. With this watermelon, however, I get to chose when it begins. And right now, it all depends on how long it takes my brother to finish making mac & cheese. I swear, he's in the kitchen forever anytime he decides to (try to) cook. I don't know why he insists on using obscure things like whale cheese and primordial spices, he's just making things harder on himself.

I went to the grocery store with my mother today, and wouldn't you know it, there was a Psyhigh alumni there. He had on a bright yellow Witchika University sweatshirt, but the cloaking must not've been activated because I recognized him immediately as one of the guys who organized the Bees and Beekeepers Spring Formal two long years ago! Man, was that a good time. The Head Beekeeper that year, @Jessica Moon, she did a great job. But I digress.

While my mom was squeezing the Dragon Fruits for ripeness, I went over and chatted with him. He refused to talk aloud though. Claimed that he didn't know who was listening. So instead he carved an encrypted message into a nearby watermelon, loudly asked me which aisle the Photon Juicers were in, and then walked through a space-time tear before I could try to answer.

It took some convincing, but I managed to get my mom to buy the engraved watermelon. She's understandably wary about purchasing tampered with produce after the Followers of Loki Farmers Market incident (worst jack-o-lanterns ever).

If I can decode this I'll let you guys know. Though I'm pretty sure nobody reads this. I'll just put it up here for my own nostalgia later I guess. Like, I'll access this old school journal twenty years from now and go "Ha! I remember when I got that weird message in a fruit!" And then the computer overlords of prophecy will demand I stop wasting time and I'll have to go back to whatever work they assigned my kind to. Man, do I hope that future doesn't come true. It always sounds so bleak.

Have you ever laid down and watched the sky? Like really watched it, where you lose track of time and space and it's just you and the great expanse hanging forever out of reach above you? If not, you should give it a try. Especially with the Mind Ships. My friends and I make it a point to meet up once a summer and rent one out for the day. We like to go somewhere remote, where we don't have to worry about passerby getting caught in crossfire or overhearing sensitive information. One time, my one friend was driving the Mind Ship and he wasn't specific enough on the destination... we ended up on one of the poles. I can't remember if it was the North or South, but there were several started penguins. Ever since then we've given him the nickname The Scourge of Penguins. A pretty good alias if you ask me.

Oh, but I wanted to write about the sky. You ever notice those little speckle things you start seeing when you look into a clear blue sky? I mean the ones that float about, and you know you can see them but you also know you can't. It's... it's hard to find the words for it. If I switch to my Other Eyes it's a lot easier to focus on them and see them as they truly are (once I even managed to catch their attention), but I think that takes the fun out of it. Sometimes it's nice to have some mystery in the world.

Though some people, like @Vizun, prefer to know all the facts. Am I understanding you right, kiddo? Take some advice from an upperclassmen: it's better if you let some discoveries come to you rather than chasing them. Like birds. Or Bwca (or as the general public insists on calling them, Knockers). Corner a Knocker, and they can get really nasty.

Of course, you could also always ask Tulka some of your questions. He's the Head of Admissions, who probably helped you with the enrollment ritual. Great guy, awesome dance moves. He's mute, so he can't verbally answer your questions, but at Psychic High School there are all sorts of ways to communicate. For instance, he can give VERY meaningful looks. Especially if he finds some underclassmen trying to sneak Knocker into the Dean's office as a prank. Another piece of advice: don't do that.

Oh man, it's so nice not to be in charge of small children anymore. Though, if I'm honest, I do kind of miss the sound of their laughter as they fade into the twilight mist I specifically TOLD THEM TWENTY TIMES TO AVOID.

...nope, nevermind. I don't miss them anymore.

So instead, it's back to focusing on topics aimed toward my age group! Today I got through half of my Web Quest assignment for AP Lifelines. I've always liked Web Quests. I've learned a lot going into the Cavern Realm of Spiderlings. It's so cool that Psyhigh has an agreement with their civilization. If I bring my Student ID, they not only promise not to eat me but also let me take home no more than five feet of spider silk as a souvenir! Or at least, that's what the waiver I signed said. I don't actually understand their language. The dialect is too click-clacky for me to grasp.

But yeah, the Spiderlings have some awesome resources. Their advanced web-spinning skills catch all sorts of things. Pluck the threads just right, and in the vibrations you'll hear a "recording" of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. Or plop one of their Reverberation Dew Drops on a web and you can watch what happened to the lost Roanoke settlers. And those are just the web uses I'm allowed access too. There's a lot I've seen less subtle Spiderling do with them, like