My "Birthday" Saturday.

Brace yourselves. This blog may be lengthy and contain foul language and obvious insensitivity.

Where do I begin.

Ah, yes. Birthday weekends. Now that I think of it, no one's ever REALLY explained birthdays to me. Nor the way they're SUPPOSED to make you feel. So perhaps the way I feel about them is normal.

I hate them. Birthdays can suck my left nut and die. I've had an obvious distaste for them ever since this guy at my 13th birthday party gave me a New Kids On The Block t-shirt. "I don't know, my Mom picked it out." Ya, well your Mom kinda picked you out, too. So her track record's pretty fucked - why would you let her pick out a gift for your boy?

And this birthday is extra special. This is the first birthday of my life I'll be spending without my Mother. I spent the better part of this morning reminding myself that there won't be any special birthday phone call in the morning on Monday. So I cried. Like a bitch. And then I sat in the bathroom in a towel for a few hours staring at the floor.

Eventually I had to suck it up - Leafs were doing battle with the Canucks and they beckoned for my half-hearted cheers. And half-hearted cheers they shall receive. After I saved my progress on Massive Effect 2 (siiiiiiiiiick game), I did a quick google map to 146 Front Street. I was ready to rock. Strapping on my classic Alyn McCauley Maple Leafs Jersey and preparing for Toronto's unforgiving barely below zero temperatures, I tore off to Islington Station for another round of guess-the-terrorist plot on the subway.

I battled through to the King Street exit and was on my way.

Man...it's cold. Man...I don't see this place anywhere. What? King Street West eh?

Google you fucked me.

When I finally reached The Loose Moose, which is evidently right across the street from Union Station, I was happy to find my sister and brother-in-law were joining us. I purchase myself a brand new Leafs' Kessel t-shirt and we settle in to watch period one.

It's a birthday miracle! Leafs' up 3 - 0 after the first 20 minutes.

Yet another birthday miracle! Leafs give up a 3 goal lead to lose 5 - 3. It was a special performance for my upcoming birthday. Thanks guys. I'm touched - but I blame Stempniak for this one.

Time for another round of guess-the-terrorist threat on the subway ride home. This time the terrorists aren't being quite as subtle. On the train ride westbound to Islington station I spot something out of the ordinary. Laying before my very eyes, just underneath the seat directly in front of me is a rather large, yet clean kitchen knife.

I peer around me. I'm the only one that sees this massive weapon laying comfortably within the reach of the psychotics, the drug addicts, the children and of course, Leafs fans. I brought it to people's attention.

I said things like, and in no particular order:
"That's a big effin' knife."
"Ooh - don't touch it. It could be a disposed murder weapon."
"It's too bad. How's dude going to cut his chicken now?"
"I'm going to jump out of the train screaming 'KNIFE! TERRORIST! BOMB! RAPE!' - whatever it takes to get somebody to take this seriously."
"No, I usually leave my kitchen utensils at home. Not in public transit."

I feel like I did the right thing by reporting it. Like I said in a previous blog, you never know. A psycho could've come in there, found the knife and used it. Or some Leafs fan could've committed suicide, right there on the train ride home.

When I think back to it, it would've been the perfect opportunity for Crocodile Dundee to show up suddenly and say "that's not a knoife...THIS is a knoife."

Morale of the story: no matter how upset or distraught life may make you - don't be afraid to get out and experience it. Yours might not be the only life you're saving.

Kung-POW, bitches.