Hmm...

You spill your guts and expect someone to do the same; that really too much to ask? What the hell's with all the facades and deception? What does it mean when it feels like you're always adding proportionally more to the pot? Whose fault is that? What does it mean when you feel like you shaft half your friends and you're being shafted by all the others?

Possibly that you don't have as many friends as you thought. Or you're more of an egotist than you thought. And you should spend more time scraping ice off the sidewalks and less time being cryptic online.

Patti, I highly doubt it.

Yesterday was bro's birthday. He had a rather low-key reaction about the whole thing, since it seemed that most people were preoccupied. Or didn't care. Most likely somewhere in the middle of those two. I told him once you hit eighteen most people are less thrilled that you've survived another year and are more surprised that you're still around. I give him a couple more years before that one sinks in.

One of my aunts made him a German Chocolate cake, his favorite. He's literally been asking her to make it for him since his last birthday. Once he got it in his possession he started acting like an idiot and imitating Gollum, saying "My precious!" and looking at all of us like we were daft if we tried to take a look at it. He wasn't kidding though. He basically hoarded the cake, to the point that he and I ended up driving to Baskin-Robbins to get another cake so that he'd have enough for himself the next day. We got one of the workers there to write "Happy Birthday to ME" on the cake, so it was all good. The guy that did that also looked eerily like Tobey from Oz, circa Season 1. That was good for a chuckle.

I've had a Bridget Jones weekend: I watched the movie twice and I zipped through the book again. I suppose that's appropriate, seeing as I've been eyeing the calendar more and more often as February 14th's approaching (Dear Lord I loathe that day). That movie's so full of meta-moments it's not even funny. Hugh Grant is mentioned in the book and, voila!, he plays a lead in the movie. Colin Firth is also mentioned in the book (for his role as Mr. Darcy, no less) and then, voila!, he plays Mark Darcy in the movie. I'm sure that was Fieldings' wet dream come to fruition.
My juvenile pinings for Firth's somewhat aloof Mark Darcy aside, I'm surprised I enjoy that movie as much as I do. I guess it's the humor. I can really do without the sappy melodram. moments. But the whole idea of finding someone that likes you "just the way you are" is very sweet (and unrealistic, but still). And I always feel moved to write a diary just like Bridget's when I'm done. I'll get around to it when I turn British.