The Party's on the 7th Now.

So you're wondering if I'm having a birthday party, right? Well, initially it was on the 1st, Labour Day, but it turns out that most people aren't even in town or available on that day. As well, it's not even my birthday on that day. So I'm moving it to the actual birthday of myself, on the 7th. ("Good for you," you say.)

Where: the park across the street from my appartment
When: the 7th, at noon
What: a picnic, with possible games and crazy crap happening
Why: 'cuz.
Who: everyone and their kitchen sinks. Especially the kitchen sinks.

Now, why would I make a big deal out of my birthday, as I hardly ever made one every other year... Well, considering the mess that happened this year, and the fact that I won't be staying in Montreal for the next birthday, I figured I would go all out and see everyone together for a possible last round of craziness. And I'm not talking about your namby pamby naked-streaking-drunkenness...

What? I'm not as innocent as I look.

I'm expecting a nice, calm picnic in the park, then a little round of stupid games like the three-legged race and blind man's bluff... then it gets a bit nuttier as the afternoon wears on. May involve togas.

I also want to do the speech. 23 isn't a special milestone year, but it is a very special year for me and there's certainly one issue I want to talk about to everyone. I don't know if it will come across as being self-righteous of me or ridiculous, or being selfish and rude, but if I don't say it then I don't know how much I can keep longer with such a false face.

Anyway, bring a beach towel to sit on otherwise you're sitting on grass. And see if it will double as a toga.