Since Freshmen year, Katie Hutchins and I have always shared our birthdays together. Mine is on June 11th, and hers is on June 12th. The first year, she slept over my house on my birthday which happened to be a school night. We stayed up until midnight and blew bubbles, representing the passing of my birthday into her birthday. We giggled nonstop, or until about 1:30 which was all my 14 year old body could handle. Plus my birthday was over, so what did I have to look forward to now, 365 more days till my next birthday?? I was always sort of annoyed with how excited Katie got that it was her birthday, only because it sucked away all the excitement of my now extinct day. Like my whole birthday she wasn't actually excited for me but simply waited in anticipation for her birthday to come. She is a year older than me too, which made my birthday even more inferior.

The next year, we slept at her house and made a plethora of breakfast food at midnight and had a feast. We walked to school the next morning all dressed up. That was a year when I really felt I had matured. Like I had changed overnight because I walked to school with heels on. What a feat. And what sore feet I had all day. Junior year five of us girls slept out in a tent, and had a DP. There was music involved. Subtle enough? It was really fun though, but school the next day wasn't. The point of these little stories though is that this year we will not be sharing our birthday's together. It's sad and as much as I want to I know we have both moved on and have different friends. I don't want to feel confined to Katie on my 18th birthday, as much as I would have loved to carry on with the tradition. Is that it though? Does that officially mean that we're never going to be close again?

Today while nannying I brought the kids to the library, where the bitchy middle-aged psychopath of a librarian screamed (relatively to usual library volume) at Mia for not putting the DVD back in the right spot. Mia, who was casually looking at Barbie Princesses movies, looked horrifyed. I said to the women, "Excuse me but she is only three years old and doesn't have the capacity to understand that process quite yet Mam," The Bitch then looked back at Mia, not me, and said passive aggressively to "Give the DVD's back to your Mom (<- made me happy) and she can put them back for you." I responded with the evil eye and said, "I'm the babysitter, bitch!" I didn't really say bitch, but that would have been awesome. The day dragged on tiresomely from there, and I proceeded to give out 16 verbal warnings, 18 empty threats, 15 ultimatums, and 1 actual, well- deserved 10 minute time out. Mia threw a shoe at my face. She's really just the cutest thing so it's hard for me to not laugh at her. We spent so many hours indoors due to the weather, so it was expected for them to get riled up. Emma, who is 5, has the cutest voice and whenever she wants to ask me something she says, "Kels I really have something I want to tell you REALLY bad." Then she'll say something like, "Bella is playing webkinz and she just came in second place in the bunny race!" with a huge smile. Two minutes later she'll have something else really important to tell me of the same nature. I am exhausted from a long day of frustration.

I can't stop relating He's Just Not That Into You, the movie to my own life. Doing this disappoints me. Despite the fact that the movie is supposed to end on a somewhat positive note, it left me unsatisfied. Because what if he really just isn't that into you?! I guess that's the whole point...

Tomorrow I will wake up a "woman."