Today is my brother Jeff's 29th birthday. For those who don't know him, he is quite a character--he was really shy until about age 16, when he suddenly morphed into a cocky but good-natured Lothario. (I don't know if he's still "the best ironer ever"--but maybe I ought to ask his girlfriend.) He's just finishing engineering school, and is busy digging big holes in the ground in New York City and Rockland County, New York--and has a great girlfriend who will certainly become a great SIL in the next few years. So happy birthday, Jeff! (Not that he reads this blog--he would be horrified, probably.)

And tomorrow is Margaret's birthday! I can't believe she's six years old. I remember being six. I thought I was very mature. :) Happy happy to MJ and her mom Helen. (And like I said before, I have presents! Give me your new address and I'll pop them in the mail.)

But you know who doesn't get a birthday shoutout from me? Peruvian Asshole. Friendster sent a birthday reminder for him. (Oh, and I also found out a few weeks ago that he remarried...well, I wish her luck, and wonder at her awful taste.) I need to disable that feature. I hardly ever go on Friendster anyway...and if it's going to send me monthly reminders of the worst mistake I ever made in my life, I think I'll pass. (Read this and this if you don't know what I'm talking about. And I'll warn you, it's really not cool.) Now I'm not living with soul-crushing guilt anymore--thank goodness, since it'll be 2 1/2 years this month--but it still comes to mind on a daily basis, I'd estimate. And thanks to Friendster he had a cameo in my dream last night--basically him pulling the same crap he did in real life, only this time it was at a Jeopardy! taping that took place in a junior high school reminiscient of a shopping mall. Blech. I really don't need to be thinking about this right now. It causes all sorts of bad thought patterns in me. Guess I'm not over it yet....

I don't mean to be a downer...The other thing is--well, if you live in the continental US you know that it's 100 fucking degrees everywhere. Except that it's been that hot here for over a month, and will continue so for another month. I'm beginning to think my brain has curdled a little, from the heat and from poor sleep brought on by the heat (and a little boo who's even more uncomfortable than I am).

Oh, and I've frogged the cardigan--the gauge is wrong, and, well, I'm just sort of over it. I'm casting on for the Spencer Jacket this afternoon. And if that don't work...well, maybe I'll just put this yarn away for a little bit and get cracking on some scarves, or another pair of socks. And there's always the aran project--I think I've actually found something, by the way!

Lastly: I'm #236 on the HP7 library queue! I may have the book in my hands by Labor Day.