I got on Harvard’s wireless network by crossing my fingers and promising that I had firewall software installed; now I’m checking the status of some mining claims in Arizona, in the middle of a room full of people speaking French. “Crimson Catering” delivers some pretty good coffee; I scored a pretty posh chair.
I still like listening to people talk about art, but apparently I have nothing to say in response. Thanks, really, for pointing those things out; but not everything has to be dialogic.
