It's about 95 degrees in my room right now. "Why, Casey, is it 95 degrees in your room right now?" the curious person might ask. I like to reward curiosity, so I'll tell you.

The body heat of 7 people laughing and shouting and doing charades for two hours might have had something to do with it. It just might. Then again, it might have been the awesome radiant heat of wavelengths at work. That's right, we played Celebrity again, because it's too much fun to pass up. I was planning on recording and posting the entire affair, or at least some highlights clips, but alas, the version of SoundForge I have is Greg's, which I must return, and is only a demo version. You'll have to settle for a reassuring "It was cool" from yours truly.

I'm never going to get to sleep, it's way too hot in here. I may as well update my blog.

Jill's party is going to be the 24th of August; that's a Saturday. If you're reading this, you are officially cool enough to go. If you're out of state, I'm afraid you're so cool that you actually have to go. That's all there is to it. Sorry.

Speaking of parties, Denny, Jacob, and myself have almost the exact same birthdates. I'm pretty sure mine is on August 5th, or at least that's what it was last year. I'm older than the both of them and that's all I know, but the highest number my mind comes up with is an 8, so their birthdays have to be somewhere between the 5th and the 8th. I think. Sometimes. What I do know is that at least Denny and I, and maybe Jacob too, are going to have some joint party that next weekend, which is just over two weeks from now. It's going to be a blast, and if you're planning on going to Jill's party, we're handing out invitations at ours, so you should probably just show up. Don't tell me, don't get me anything, your presence is a present enough. More details will come in time.

I haven't dreamt lately, which disturbs me. Dreams are a powerful insight and a tool of self-reflection, and their absence has left a void in my perceptions, a blind spot on the world. Oh well, maybe I should sleep more.

I'm currently proofreading the prologue for a story by Mikaus, which reminds me that my own story has advanced at a statuesque pace. Reading the work of others, unfortunately, removes my need to write, so hopefully I'll finish proofing Mike's work so I can move on to Douglas Adams', and finally on to my own. On the bright side, while I'm not writing, I am thinking, so the quality of work should eventually be higher. My story is for tomorrow.

I went climbing today. I got higher on the red course, the course designed for shorter climbers, than I ever had before, which is a boost. I think there have only been three or four days when I haven't gotten higher than on at least one course than ever before, and all of those have been when I went alone and had nobody to belay me on the roped courses. I'm going tomorrow with Kevin and you all. You all knows what I'm talking about.

Bowling again is Thursday. Call for details, but try to wait until I can get ahold of some.

Lauren got me a shirt for my birthday, which was really sweet. Thanks to her.

It's down to 90 degrees. I might venture a sweltering nap. Yes, yes I will. Sweet dreams.

I'm tired. I've been up really late, lately late, of late.

Exactly.

I've gone back and reread all of the Douglas Adams I could find. He is one author of whom I have never tired. Oh, what bitter irony it is that among so many authors that can put me promptly to sleep, he was claimed for death. Svlad and I salute thee.

We played Celebrity at TJ's house for what must have been at least three or four hours Saturday night. That game is really a blast, especially with the wavelength as powerful as it has grown. We must be scary to behold.

Work has been bothering me lately. I guess they want me to work. Go figure.

I went climbing with Mike earlier in the week, Thursday I guess it was, and thankfully was not smitten by some catastrophe. They put new walls up, maybe that had something to do with it. Perhaps God has been too busy testing his divine limits against the new courses lately to throw thunderbolts and greenbacks at me. I'll never know, and in this case that thought doesn't bother me.

Here's a new thought. I just realized that the twenty dollars I was blessed with covered the exact cost of the climbing shoes and socks that I bought. Maybe God was paying me to do it right, and punishing me for not doing so? Then again, I'd sooner acknowledge the short-attention-span God than the perfectionist God, given the relative state of things. It doesn't bother me one bit...

Swing dancing should be on Monday, tomorrow (or tonight if you want to be a punk about it), if it doesn't get somehow cancelled again. More climbing Tuesday, as usual, because it rocks. Sue me. We're planning some serious bowling for Thursday night, and if you're reading this, you're officially cool enough to be invited, unless of course you're out of town, in which case you're actually too cool to go. Sorry.

That's it I think. Everything's been a little bit too... too... mundane... for my liking, which is why my sleep is restless and hard-approaching. I'm making an exception. Bonne nuit.