From the moment I saw you

If you've ever read Something Rotten, specifically that bit at the end when Granny Next dies, you'll know what turning seventeen was like for me. (That reminds me, I need to get the next Jasper Fforde books.) I lay very still and waited. Around midnight they came, and I felt their eyes on me as I drifted off to sleep. Maybe if I had stayed awake I would have died. I don't know. In any case, I think we all knew that something significant would happen.
I haven't aged. I've grown up, but I haven't gotten older. On the inside, I'm still thirteen... trapped in time at the moment my life fell apart.
I've never told anyone that.

Went to my third Kendo lesson today. My arms are a bit sore, and I suspect there's a blister on my left foot. After today I am now the proud owner of a bamboo shinai. It's mostly wood and string, nothing special about it... but I will make it special. I have named it Apprentice and I will craft it in my own image, warping its factory appearance into something powerful. I will focus myself into it. My staff will be my sword and vice versa. And I will be careful, because it's really easy to break these things. Seriously, one splinter and it becomes dangerous to use. The actual sword the shinai is based on is sharp enough to cut through pretty much anything, so there's never any need to hit things hard with it. A glancing blow is the most I'll ever do.

Our coffeehouse went well. I suppose. Hosting was stressful; I mean, I've been working onstage before, but being the co-star was something new. I've never liked being front and center. Although I am good at it... one night, not even reading anything, and I'm already accumulating fangirls. Sigh. Some parts ran more smoothly than others, of course. Nothing particularly memorable, I'm afraid... there was one reading about Bob the Atrocious Muffin that stuck in my mind, but aside from that not much. It takes a skilled reader to stick in the mind. Irritating that the one talent I'll admit to having is one that I hate. I have never liked public speaking. I'm just good at ignoring the audience.
There was an... incident, during rehearsals. Someone made a joke about rape. Normally I'm able to block these things out. Under most circumstances the r-word goes harmlessly right over my head. But this time, not so lucky. It might be because I was eating. Eating is a funny thing. It's a simple action that changes me slightly, makes me more aware of things, lower my shields. When I'm eating I can't read people as easily, can't stand to have holy symbols touching my skin, and evidently can't stand to be reminded of something traumatic. Exactly what it sparked in my mind is unknown, but suffice to say I lost my appetite and had to sit very still for awhile.