Lost in Translation: I liked it fine, but wow: how underwhelming. Maybe it was all the hype that lead me to believe I was going to be watching pure brilliance. Well, yeah, I�m sure it was the hype. My expectations were high, and I thought the movie was good, but blow me away it did not do.

And Bill Murray for Best Actor? Again, I liked his performance, and now and forever, I love me some Bill, but, uh�what? Best Actor, you say? He did have some honest moments, I admit, but if they�re giving out Oscars these days for quietly sitting at a bar looking forlorn, I know a lot of potential nominees.

Spellbound, the spelling bee documentary, on the other hand, was great. I fell in love with those kids, especially the spaz, who all too clearly reminded me of myself as a grade schooler. He simply could not stop himself from making incredibly dumb jokes and cracking himself up. It looked very familiar, but I�m comfortable in the knowledge that, as a child, at least I could hold still for three seconds.

As we watched, Robin made very sure to remind me that she was her regional spelling bee champ. She felt ripped off that she didn�t know about the Nationals as a kid. I felt ripped off that my school didn�t even have a spelling bee. I would have done well. As a kid, I was so deeply entrenched in my little geek world that I would lift my finger and invisibly trace difficult words in the air.

I realized this was abnormal around the seventh or eighth time my mom asked me what the hell I was doing.

Robin keeps some contact lens solution at my place. As we were getting ready for bed last night, she held up the bottle and said �When this is done, it�s over.� Thinking she meant our relationship, I immediately poured out half of it. After I told her what I did, and after she made me admit I was joking, she said what she meant was that when the bottle was gone, we were going to move in together, because it just doesn�t make sense to keep two bottles of contact lens solution in two different places.

It makes good economic sense.

We�ve actually been talking about playing house for a while now. After all, as Robin pointed out last night, today is our four month anniversary. We chose for our anniversary the first night we drunkenly groped one another in her car after this, because the other event we could have linked our anniversary to is only accessible back behind the closed off, beaded curtain section of our memories, no minors allowed.

We�re looking for hardwood floors in Santa Monica, and we want a puppy.

I want you all to go here and ignore all those �word� things and look at the picture at the bottom of the page. Jonny is of the position that my desire to eat the exact center of the cake, rather than following around the edges like a good little conformo is nothing short of anti-American anarchy. He�s not upset because he himself wanted the cake center. He just thinks it�s wrong because I didn�t follow some kind of bizarre Jonny cake eating protocol.

I say: I wanted the center of the cake, I took the center of the cake. Have I not my rights?

What say you, Diaryland?