Back in my early twenties, still in college and idealistic as Hell, I'd look at every disaster report on the news, every incoming hurricane, every hostage situation, and I'd...try to solve it. I'd sit there in front of the TV focusing all my power and all my magic just on making it right. Sometimes I'd try so hard the TV would break. And honestly, I don't know. Maybe all that effort helped a little. Maybe people were rescued that wouldn't have been, or four hundred people died instead of five hundred. But back then, all I'd see is that the problem didn't get one hundred percent fixed, I'd feel like a failure, and I'd cry my eyes out. Embarrassing.

I became more pragmatic over time, if only because I got sick of leaving myself open to so much hurt. And I had to concentrate on other things, like becoming financially solvent enough to manage my powers' various drawbacks practically.

But it still pisses me off. Every time I hear about a child murder or a serial rapist on the streets, or the latest massive fuckup of our justice system, I want to go out and fix it all over again.

Apparently, I am hugely in error for giving a damn. For trying to make a difference in this crappy city and equally crappy world, which has more than its share of problems no matter how many of the Spandex crowd you toss at it.

This is...impossible. I go to the gym to try and exercise my muscles, only to discover that I don't really have any. I stop muggings and end up beaten up myself. The next mugger I try to stop turns out to be a gang member trolling for a woman for their night's "entertainment", some of them have uzis, and when I panic and drop a wall on them...the one superhuman I have met in this lousy city conveniently shows up just to mock the newbie. Not to help. Not to give pointers. Just to make fun while I'm standing their bleeding, dusty and already pissed-off. Nice.

I've kept the gym-going up, mostly in the pool. At least I don't look silly in a bathing suit. I go home sore every day...and I stay home at night. Fuck this hero crap. I'm still healing from the last fiasco, and my anger and frustration levels are forcing me to keep to myself for a while anyway.

Current Location: penthouse
Current Mood: frustrated

Dear Pietro,

San Francisco was lovely, thanks for asking. You should get a package under seperate cover with a few interesting souvenirs.

There is indeed a very pretty, half-naked lad flapping about with wings over the Bay on a regular basis. I did not invest in binoculars, however, in spite of your suggestion, and I'd prefer you keep your "spinster" comments to yourself.

Had an odd encounter with an older man who looked a little like you. It was very strange. He left before I could approach him for conversation, but he kept...staring at me. The oddest look...as if he knew me. It was a very strange situation. I swear he even had eyes of the same shade as yours. So, that said--should you decide to indulge in time travel at some point, please do the polite thing and drop me a line about it, so I don't end up in abject confusion in the middle of Golden Gate Park again. Mmkay?

Aunt A. is well. (The...cat...is obnoxious as ever). I have let her know that you asked after her. She has insisted that I enclose brownies, in spite of the fact that half your companions are still genetically animals and will probably be sensitive to it. Ah well.

Please write back with the latest news. I am settling back in in New York, and am already bored to tears....