Stayed home sick. Again. Oy. Worked on a Data Structures assignment (a quicksort program) with the help and encouragement of Henry. We turned it in just in time, sort of. Windows sucks. My program ran fine with negative numbers and zero on OpenBSD, then puked in weird and random ways when I tried to compile it in the NT lab. Then it puked some more when I managed to get it to compile and run at all.

My frustration with Windows runs deeper than the perpetual difficulty of dealing with its idiosyncrasies. In my limited experience with the department, and in the experience of a well placed source within the department, a great majority of CWRU's computer science professors prefer Windows to Unix. I fail to understand how a CS degree can have meaning when it can be obtained without significant exposure to what is, in my opinion, the most relevant operating system in computer science. Unix provides a rich and comfortable programming environment, aided by decades of development by its users. Students familiar only with graphical Windows IDEs are ignorant of the history of their chosen field, rendering it inevitable that they will habitually commit a cardinal sin of computer programming: reinventing the wheel.

Henry waited patiently while I configured networking on a new laptop at the Children's Museum. It took longer than I estimated, but he was rather gracious about it. Subsequent to our departure, we ingested comestibles at the Boarding House restaurant while engaging in philosophical repartee.

I think it's funny that people write that way. Are they trying to be incomprehensible? English is a delicate and expressive language. Why, then, do so many native speakers maim their listeners' ears with coarse idiom and empty phrase? Such people ought to renounce English and choose some other language in which to not communicate.

Hank and I chilled back at my place while he arranged for transportation and accompaniment to Being John Malkovich (verdict: fantastically original filmmaking, but not as thought-provoking as it could have been). I played an improvisation for him on my digital piano. Normally I prefer not to be heard, but I make exceptions for people who I think will appreciate my playing. He did. It's too bad that the computer speakers on the digital piano limited my dynamic range. Hell, it's too bad that it was a digital piano and not a real one. Someday I'll bring him to along to Hillel.

After the movie, we drove past the Big Egg (verdict: closed) on our way to My Friend's on the western edge of Cleveland. My Friend's is a lovely all-night local eatery filled with character. (Contrast with Denny's.) When I say “we drove”, I mean that Hank, Andrew, and I rode in Nathan Arthur's car. Nathan was my CMPS 131 recitation leader two years ago. Surprisingly, he seemed to remember me (and a certain assignment I never did finish, though he did not mention it until prodded). Henry likes him a lot, and I can see why.

I returned home to find a battery of Sigma Psi girls up on the third floor, having a good time. I met one named Kacy who seemed in particular to be having slightly too good a time. With the help of her friends and the soiling of some perfectly clean clothing (I proffered a replacement shirt), she crashed on the bean bag chair in my room.

As luck would have it, I myself also called Ralph on the porcelain phone. I'd had nothing to drink; I think my flu-like symptoms magnified in sympathy for my guest.

Finally, after messing around with various Apache configurations on my home Web server, I climbed into bed around 5AM.