~*~ Rose-Colored Glosses ~*~

hovering between the quest for absolute truth and the pursuit of utter nonsense
gloss, n.
  1. A brief explanatory note usually inserted in the margin or between lines of a text.
  2. An extensive commentary, often accompanying a text or publication.
  3. A purposefully misleading interpretation or explanation.
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"The limits of my language means the limits of my world."
-Ludwig Wittgenstein
"An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it."
-Mahatma Gandhi
Segal's Law:
A man with a watch knows what time it is. A man with two watches is never sure.
"Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water! And East is East and West is West and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste more like prunes than a rhubarb does. Now, uh... Now you tell me what you know."
-Groucho Marx

~ Wednesday, March 26, 2003 ~

Bleagh. I hurt. Not really sure why my shins should start hurting now, after having been nice and good and obedient for so long, but there it is. I don't think I was dancing differently from usual (although we did do four of my favorite dances tonight, which was supercool--Simple Gits, Just for Jody, Maiden's Choice, and Orange in Bloom, which has all sorts of sentimental value to me because it was one of our show dances at Marlboro in May '01 and it was the first show dance I was ever in), either. Odd. Probably due to a lack of dancing. Seriously, there's been far too little dancing in my life lately. Thank goodness there's Period Movement to anticipate...not that it'll be lovely transporting myself back and forth twice a week, but I really think it'll be worth it, and besides, much reading and writing and thinking can happen on busses and trains even during periods when it doesn't happen at any other time. And if it turns out not to be as wonderful as I hope (not that that's a possibility, of course), then whatever, I'm only auditing it. Mmmm, mazurka. :)

Grr. I have to send e-mails to people about New York things, and I have to send them tonight, and stanfordalumni.org isn't letting me log in. Grr. I want to send e-mails and go to sleep. Clearly stanfordalumni.org is intentionally trying to make me lose sleep. I'm sure it's a corporate plot. Make the alumni tired and cranky and fogheaded and then bombard them with The Stanford Fund letters threatening to keep sending them letters until they give money.

I miss dorm life. I liked it better when I could come home to a whole house full of people who were more than likely nice to be around, and kept the same hours I did, or worse ones. It's still weird being the only one who stays up past midnight. Looking forward to things being more normal during my NYC visit, even if it's only for a week, because after that I can look forward to life being collegey again for the coming academic year. That'll be so nice. :) Which reminds me, I have to e-mail Elita and various school contacts about meetings and tours and other scheduling things...and I would, too, if only stanfordalumni.org would let me in. Gragh.

~ prattled by Miriam at 3:20 a.m. [+]

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