And so my new life begins.

I sit here writing this, dear diary, because I honestly have no one else to turn to. For the first time in my life, my friends can't even begin to comprehend what I'm going through. None of them. How could I possibly begin to describe the feeling of absolute elation that rushes through me each time I'm faced with a challenge that could lead to my death? How could I tell them that lying...and succeeding in that lie...brings me to something just short of ecstasy? How do you tell someone you care about that you'd throw your entire history with them out the door if it meant researching and uncovering a murderer's true identity?

I can't tell anyone because no one would understand. Except you. So in effect, me.

I'm afraid of sharing my feelings with my new group members. They seem competent enough. They'll protect me, I think. And they aren't terrible to look at. My feminine ways seem to both intrigue and annoy them somewhat. We women have a tendency to do that. But just watching their reaction to my enjoyment of profiling makes me realize that my saucy, feisty exterior will need to stay in place for awhile longer. No sweet Sari. At least until I understand them a bit more.

That's all for now. I need to ponder the mind of a serial killer.