Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Futures
Turns out I'm veering sharply away from ethnic identity on the paper we have due tomorrow, and am instead going to work on BlogShares as a metaphor for language. I've been toying around with a separate weblog for web-publishing my academic stuff, so maybe the paper will show up there. We'll see.
Susanne has begun the "horrible wedding nightmare" phase. She told me today of one of those, you know, where everything goes wrong, and the bride trips on her dress and the flowers are all dead and the rings are back in the hotel and the groom's mouth is sewn shut so he can't say his vows and the preacher's head is a slimy fish face that spouts fire.
Last night, I dreamt that Susanne and I were exploring an ancient Mesoamerican temple, which emerged like nature's secret from plush green moss. Golden light filtered down through the verdant canopy, and we pushed hanging vines aside, and there were no bugs. A few weeks ago I dreamt that Susanne and I were riding on the back of a flying unicorn, high above the clouds, our hair whipping in the cool wind as we marveled at the blushing sunset sky.
I count my blessings.
Susanne has begun the "horrible wedding nightmare" phase. She told me today of one of those, you know, where everything goes wrong, and the bride trips on her dress and the flowers are all dead and the rings are back in the hotel and the groom's mouth is sewn shut so he can't say his vows and the preacher's head is a slimy fish face that spouts fire.
Last night, I dreamt that Susanne and I were exploring an ancient Mesoamerican temple, which emerged like nature's secret from plush green moss. Golden light filtered down through the verdant canopy, and we pushed hanging vines aside, and there were no bugs. A few weeks ago I dreamt that Susanne and I were riding on the back of a flying unicorn, high above the clouds, our hair whipping in the cool wind as we marveled at the blushing sunset sky.
I count my blessings.
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