From left to right, Stewart (Ludicorp president), me, and Dad.
George was kind enough to take the photos, which include the two links below:
Modern Emily and her dad.
Emily's Uncle Pete.
I saw no evidence of food fighting. This cannot be good for morale.
All I had was my camera phone, so I took a couple of pictures of Cal, Stewart, and George. I really wish I'd taken a picture of, um, Wintermute, Comandante Frito, and S M. But as you might tell, I don't know them very well (hardly know them apart from their screennames), and in any case someone had to keep things nailed down while Stewart was giving me the tour.
So one of these days, should I decide to splurge on the Sprint Vision service, I will upload those pictures and post them someplace conspicuous.
When we left, Dad said, "That guy who was showing us around on the computer, he's pretty good-looking."
Replied I, "He's the one that's married."
"Oh."
While I'm a sucker for redheads, I'm not into that whole husband-stealing scene.
So I'm home again in my room, with a very stuffed-up left ear. When the plane began its descent into Chicago, my ear plugged up and didn't pop, and didn't pop, and the pain became something just short of excruciating. All the way down to the ground, I chewed gum, stretched my jaw, and nothing would make that thing blow. After our three-hour layover, when we were back in the air, it finally popped at 30,000 feet, only to become plugged once again upon descent, in an equally painful manner. My ear no longer hurts, but it's fairly uncomfortable, so since I'm due for a nap anyway (haven't slept since I woke up yesterday morning), I think I'll go lie down on my left side and see how that helps.
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