Not an incredibly active day. Got lunch at Union Grill with lincoln3. Couldn't quite finish the burger. I am really getting annoyed at my digestive tract for not being able to handle big -ass meals very well any more and leaving me hungry occasionally but not very motivated to find food. Having handy small amounts of food in the office is good, though. Mmm, office. There's a guy in the next room over who seems to practice guitar on the weekends and off-hours. He sounds pretty decent. I did get some productivity accomplished, though: the comics section is all laid out except for Shades of Manning, the Count, and my text blurby thing. But bobrost has some stuff, and epr turned in... something which frightens me deeply, and Greg-the-freshman has a traditional sort of talking-animal strip that looks promising, and some other people are promising stuff for next week. (Incidentally, trurl, if you happen to read this, I can still fit you in if you get something to me by tomorrowish, (ph33r the m4ster of fudging whitesp4c3!) but it's not a disaster if your scanning options are still being explored.) So, yeah. Comics! Comics.
And... I sat and meditated over O food about intersection and union types. Something is just wrong with them. The obvious inference rules are sound but not complete with respect to the obvious (subset) semantics, as far as I can tell, for my incredibly naive notions of obviosity since I have just begun to dip my toe in the raging, foaming waters of the subject.
EXTRA! Our neighbors are amusing. They apparently have regular Saturday-night parties. They done have terribly loud music, so I don't mind too much. Conversation that occurred just now: Some girl: "Hey! Hey you!" Me: [innocent look, not used to people shouting at me from outside] SG: "Yeah, you! Why is your house so... green?" M: "Uh, we have this green light. We got it at Ikea." [It really does make the whole inside of the house look freakishly green at night from the outside. I think it looks kind of cool. From the inside, you just sort of get used to it.] SG: "Doesn't it bother you?" M: "Not really." Some Party Guy: "You want a beer? Or a Jello shot?" M: "Thanks, no."