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I saw Quantum of Solace.

Except I'm brutal at telling the story from the beginning to the end (which is a total lie--I'm a decent storyteller, if I do say so myself, though I needn't, because lots of folks say I am, and in fact insist that I tell the story they told me, even though I wasn't there for it, because, apparently, I'm good at that sort of thing), but I've got to give it a shot nonetheless.

And I'll try to stop sounding like a moron (reference previous parentheses).

Almost a month ago a friend of mine--Jon, actually, you may have seen him post around here--suggested I have a half-birthday party, considering that I never get to have my birthday with my friends. Unbeknownst to him, I hardly get a birthday at all, and haven't for donkey's years. At first I felt like it was a stupid and selfish idea--even though I'd thought of it myself a few years back, once I'd heard of half-birthday parties--because it seemed tantamount to asking for attention. I dislike this (I know, I know, I have a blog, what could be more asking for attention? Well, streaking, for one, and talking loudly on a cellphone in a fancy restaurant, and wearing fur, and dressing like a gangsta, or a punk, or a quean, or...).

Anyway, the night he suggested it I found out my dog had died (see my archives). I was pretty bummed. So I didn't really savour the idea of a party, if you follow. When asked what I wanted to do, I said, "I cannot think of anything that I would like to do." So people went and planned stuff on my actual half-birthday with my permission, because I was sad and didn't want to think about doing fun things.

And then I found out that Quantum of Solace came out this weekend.

So there was some unnecessary stress and distress as I tried to organize an expedition to the local theatre to watch the aforementioned flick, since everyone had gone and assumed that nothing was happening (rough paraphrase--some folks hadn't heard of the whole half-birthday scheme yet, and so hadn't even gotten to the point of assuming that nothing was happening). Anyway, eventually we settled on Sunday night, after Navs.

I pre-ordered the tickets yesterday, as I posted. And then I prepared a pork shoulder with taters and carrots in the crock pot while my housemate had a martial arts movie fest with his Tae Kwon Do club.

Today went fairly well. Church in the morning (turned on the crock pot before I left), procrastination in the later morning and around noon. Lunch. Eventually, I got on to that essay I've supposed to have finished a rough draft for for a while now. I pushed through most of it in a few hours, and will easily be able to finish it off tomorrow. Then, got my stuff together, and my housemate helped me carry the crockpot and necessary ingredients to Geneva House, where Navs meets, so that I can prepare for the dinner (which I was charged with cooking).

Before I left, my housemate spilled the beans that there would be a cake when I returned home. I am sure he thought I knew.

So here's what I made for Navigator's Sunday night Dinner:

A pork shoulder in the crock pot for 8 hours on high, accompanied by sliced potatoes, sliced carrots, basil, thyme, and rosemary, in enough water to thoroughly cook the tubers.

What I am calling Garden Pasta, which consists of fusilini and elbow noodles in tomato sauce, accompanied by diced peppers, largely-chopped snap peas, and green beans, along with basil and orageno.

A store-bought veggie platter.

Joanna, who was assigned to help me cook, made excellent 'Joanna Brownies.'

I was worried about the pork, but I needn't have been. The meat fell right off the bone, and parted so well I hardly had to try. Everyone was impressed, and complimented me on breaking the stereotype. That's right. I'm a man, and I can COOK!

We then watched a very good nooma video, and had a discussion. It concerned Jesus' choosing the unwanted to be his disciples, and what that says about us.

And then I had to bolt homeward. As expected, a bunch of friends waited for me. There was cake, which was vanilla (they remembered!) with frosting, and Oreos on top, pulled in half, with sprinkles on the cream, each half with a different letter, so that arranged on the cake it said, "Twenty 1 1/2." Clever girls. There is still more cake waiting for me downstairs, of which I will partake when I am done with this post.

Instead of regular candles, they used sparklers, which I couldn't blow out. So I get 5 girlfriends this year. Except I cheated, and blew a second time, just before the last sparkler went out--trying to arrange to have just one.
(Awwwwww, say the female readership, and I blush, which I do all too easily.)

And then we exodized to the Empire (cinema), and I dramatically passed out the pre-ordered tickets, and we went and waited in the second line for Quantum. My cronies saved the spot while I ordered junk food and a Diet Coke I am at this point thinking was a bad idea (if you can't tell from my style, I am so so so so wired). They went into the movie theatre, and wound up having to save the whole row for all of us--we fit exactly. There were 12 in all.

And then I loved the movie. Not everyone did--some hated it, apparently. But I thought it was tops. [AMBIGUOUS SPOILERS ALERT] The Goldfinger nod? Sad, indeed, but nonetheless... And the sequences. My golly, what a show. [AMBIGUOUS SPOILERS ALERT ENDS] And I'll stop using silly antiquated lingo now. If I can.

And now I'm back home, hoping tomorrow's class will be cancelled, though no sign that it will be yet. Not a false hope, entirely, as the prof indicated it might be. The reason I hope so is so that I can sleep in and maybe get my essay done earlier, at the same time. Because I am wired right now, and sleep is likely a while off.

Anyway, sleep's distance notwithstanding, I will at least go through the motions of preparing for bed. Cake, shower, maybe light reading, bed.

Fare thee well, my readership. Good night.

(And despite whatever troubles saw me to this point, I am on the moon right now...)