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Dear Kitty

I was so happy to see you among my other birthday presents, to have an escape from electronic distractions and family drama. Well, it hasn't been kept just in the family recently.

It's mostly centered around my father's good friend Mr. Kleiman and his inability to determine when he is in love.

My father drops hints about this matter often, but it appears to bounce right off of Mr. Kleiman like a rubber bouncy ball to a brick wall.

My sister, Margot, has been subtly trying to get Mr. Kleiman to acknowledge the concern we have for him regarding this, deploying various methods, including leaving tabs open about things like "how to tell when you're in love" whenever she borrows Mr. Kleiman's computer and asking him if he's thinking about a certain "person" when he daydreams.

The rest of father's coworkers who aren't directly involved, Miep and Bep, said Mr. Kleiman is suffering from the same feelings they had for each other before they began a romantic relationship.

I personally think Mr. Kleiman is being awfully stubborn for someone usually so reasonable. I've only just turned thirteen, I can already see how clearly Mr. Kleiman has fallen head over heels.

There's one more important figure I've yet to mention, and that's the last of father's friends, Mr. Kugler. I saved him for last because he's the one Mr. Kleiman is so smitten for.

That seems to about cover what's on my mind right now, it's late as well, so I probably should be getting to sleep no matter how many extra details about today, and recent events, and this diary, and my life as a whole. I hope to cover it all tomorrow.

Yours, Anne.