Happy Birthday!

It was my birthday yesterday. It wasn't particularly exciting, but it was appropriate in that it reflected me well. Colin did his level best to make it worthwhile, making all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday available to hang out with me. That was the best gift of all, I think.

On Friday night, I went to see Blade II with Colin, Nick, Chelle and Jason. It was an extremely effective sequel, picking up the tale of the Daywalker pretty well and feeling far more like a legitimate continuation than just a derivative cash-grab. As an action flick, it holds it own nicely. The action sequences were not spectacular, but were well-paced and excitingly unpredictable at times. Far be it from me to step back into the ratings circuit with such a pathetic offering, but for the sake of nostalgia, I'll give Blade II a 41.

Afterwards, Colin and I went to Denny's while the traitorous Nick went home to sleep. Denny's was good as always, and I discovered that if I eat all the potato bits from a Meat Lover's Skillet first, not only do I get a delightful potato experience, I also don't have anything interfering with my meat and egg enjoyment when I get around to them. So I got that going for me, which is nice.

Saturday, I gave blood at the downtown Canadian Blood Services clinic with Chelly and Mrs. Richards. I then dined on deliciously free soup while Mrs. Richards had NONE! Mwa-haha-hahaha-hahahahahahaha-haha-haha-ha! Ha! *cough* *cough* Ha.

Then I headed down to the Glenbow Museum with Nick and Colin and Kat to see their latest experiment in poorly crafted mediocrity, the Pop Revolution exhibit. Even with extensive material on loan from New York City's Museum of Modern Art, the exhibit was spartan, and the genuine "pop" art was filled out with extravagent modern peices that seemed more like massive misuses of tax-payer subsidized government grants than actual "art". Aside from a few interesting pieces and a great portrait of Chairman Mao and Lyndon Johnson in drag, I must report that my favourite part of the whole shebang was the poster that advertises it. But one man made it worth the 7 bucks I shelled out to get in: an utterly fantastic andy Warhol impersonator who is spookily in character at all times. I've never met the real Andy, of course; but based on what I've seen and read about the man, his impersonator may as well have been his clone. His clone with memories, natch.

From the museum to Jack Astor's we went, where the portions are bountiful and the Vanilla Coke flows like the blood of my enemies, only sweeter. I had the Chicken Fried Chicken and the mortfying embarassment for dessert when the wait-staff made me stand on a chair and do the "I'm a little Teapot" dance.

Then it was home again, home again (jiggity jig) to watch Training Day on DVD, the rental fee for which Nick eliminated through the clever expedient of buying it for me. It's such a good movie, although after a full day of stuff, it kinda feels too extreme. Denzel is intense, and Ethan Hawke is so convincingly freaked out and out of his depth that you can't help but feel dragged under with him.

Chelly also contributed to my DVD library with the Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back Collector's Edition. I've seen the movie a few times, but the two-disc set's glut of special features will ensure several more hours of viewing enjoyment, no doubt about it.

Sunday was a full day as well, with a trip to see Ice Age with Colin, Kristen and the awkwardly named Mikayla (?). Difficult spelling aside, she's a lovely little girl and I had a lot of bittersweet fun playing with her in the car on the way to the show. She's 3, by the way. Ice Age was a decent family "romp", as they say, but easily the most predictable movie I've seen in a while. With animated children's movies like Monster's Inc. proving that you don't have to be predictable to be good, it was shame to such a trite story as the foundation for a very humourous and visually entertaining film.

After the show, Colin and I headed back to Jack Astor's, this time with my parent's, for more chicken and public humiliation. I told my parents not to tell them it was my birthday, on account of the fact that I had been there for the same reason the previous night, but they did anyway. This time, I was required to make ridiculous "toot-toot" noises during some sort of train-themed birthday song. According to Colin, Saturday night's waitress watched the whole scene with a look that I imagine was of suspicous disgust. Beating a hasty retreat, I head back to Colin's house for an evening of Family Guy episodes that are far funnier when you're watching them with another person.

So, all in all, it was a decent weekend, but I regret not being able to spend more time with more of my friends. You know who you are...