March 24th, 2006


The New^H^H^HRevisionism

I'm tying up some old, loose ends. It's going to take me awhile, and most of you probably won't notice, but among other things, some corners of my webpage are getting cleaned up, reexamined, and restored or removed.

It turned out that my BioInformatics midterm actually went very badly. I would drop the class if I could, but if I do, I'll have the pleasure of paying for the semester's worth of class. Free classes at CMU for staff can be a kind of a trap -- it's appropriate in that they don't want us to take the privilege lightly, but at times like this, with so much going on at work and elsewhere, it's painful. I will need to put in a lot of effort and do really well on the coming programming assignment and the final in order to do acceptably in this class.

Special:Randompage took me someplace cool on Wikipedia today -- to Bayeux Tapestry. A link on the bottom took me to a rather awesome creation someone made.

While in NYC, we went to MOMA, and I discovered Yves Tanguy, who is full of much awesome. I wish we could've spent more time there. I admittedly am more of the type to go to museums alone, because it is hard for me to plan how much time I want to spend there -- it *always* is either far more interesting to me than other people or far less so, depending on both my mood and what's actually there.

I've been having an oddly large number of moments of dizziness recently. I should probably set up a checkup with my doctor -- it's probably about time (My heuristic is that if any time I can't remember the last time I had a checkup, it's a good time to schedule one).


Isles of Brown

A walk across the field, things having been wrapped up. A glance back over the shoulder, instinctual, each motion feeling like it is being made a thousand times, a cosmic destiny. The path, as far back as the eyes can see, is empty, a small contrast to the middle-aged women in front, and a distant male up ahead. A glimse of something else send a brief spark through eyes of muddy water. Feet continue to move, and the face returns to its forward gaze in front of feet.

An emergency abandonment of the island, all past, history, now relegated to memory, things left for the waves to reclaim. A clever shipbuilder finds a way to copy ships through a platonic slight of hand, a gift of one distinct thing into the realm of ideals in exchange for each retrieval of something else. A clever trick, for he was a philosopher before the retreat to this island and the building of the colony. Occasional disasters provoke questions.. he answers "sometimes the ships just sink, the water refuses to bear them any longer, and they slip into the sea. There is not always a reason why they sink." "Could it be the sails? The hulls? The weight?" "Sometimes they just sink"

A walk across the field, things having been wrapped up. A glance back over the shoulder, instinctual, each motion feeling as light as a feather, as if nothing at all. He sees her face, and she raises her eyebrows at his sudden smile, then joins him, two brushes painting the moment together. She steps forward to embrace him, and they soon continue down the path, hand in hand.

I am learning to part with some hopes and dreams I had. I feel diminished, the fabric of me is lessened. I can spin more if I need.

Shabbat 1000 was interesting and enjoyable. They didn't quite make 1000 people, according to an organiser, but they got reasonably close. I always find these things to be a learning experience, and it was good that it was in an environment where I didn't feel awkward out for simply observing rather than taking part in things in ways that would be dishonest.

I have a lot of interesting books to read, and some schoolwork to do. Hurrah.