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You're right.

Quite so. Look, if we subject objectivism to the rather hyperbolic claims of some of its proponents, then it's going to fail by its own standards. It's not the "only" logical philosophy, insofar as it can't give any sort of logical accounting for personal preference, which is what underlies every human action that we take. Comparatively speaking, that's not a problem, since no other philosophy can either. We can make all sorts of normative arguments about how we should behave, but that's not the same as establishing moral absolutes, no matter how you slice it - "useful" is not the same as "true".

Now, if we're willing to abandon claims of universal truth, and accept normative arguments as valid, that's fine. But if we're going to do that, we might as well skip objectivism altogether and take up utilitarianism, since we'll have essentially come to a utilitarian philosophy through the back door anyway.

I believe that it's impossible to achieve moral perfection according to divine standards, and that it's only possible for short stretches under human standards. As with any other learned skill, keeping it honed to utter perfection flies against man's nature. Michael Jordan missed baskets. Da Vinci made bad brushstrokes. Einstein was goofy at arithmetic. No great moralist—Rand included—ever led a perfectly ethical life. Learned skills can be polished, but never perfected. Does that mean that men have "feet of clay" and that, therefore, moral ideals are pointless? Hardly. No rational man believes that failure to achieve perfection negates the necessity for standards of right and wrong. Standards are ideals toward which to strive.
I regard thinking as more flexible than dogmatism. Principles belong in the field of thinking, whereas rules tend to fall in the field of dogmatism. This is not always true, but in practice it tends to work out that way. For example, we've all heard of the boss or coworker who is so rigidly rule-oriented that he becomes unreasonable. He is unable to adapt to a shifting context. On the other hand, a principled man can adapt, because he knows that principles are always contextual. The rule-slave will not be charitable to a late coworker because the rule is that you arrive at work on time - period. Never mind unexpected traffic jams or other factors, that's the rule! On the other hand, while the principled man will view timely arrival as a good idea, he'll understand that it only makes sense in normal situations - that is, unless the underlying context changes.
One of the factors that has undermined conceptual thinking in America is the failure to appreciate the true usefulness of principles. Part of that usefulness is their flexibility, their resilience in the face of the vagaries of real life. Take another example. A rule-oriented man who accepts the dictum, "Though shalt not kill," can easily be led to pacifism. He will never kill for any reason. He takes the rule as a rigid, noncontextual absolute. The principled man, on the other hand, will look at the commandment and question it. After all, he knows that a person has the right of self-defense, which may occasionally require him to kill an aggressor. That is also why the original version of the commandment was, "Thou shalt not murder," a principle, not merely a rule. Over the eons, the original has been corrupted to the point near nonsense.

I know that not everyone looks at the difference this way, but I think it's the distinction that makes the most sense. This is not to deny that principles can, at a certain level, also be absolute. They are absolute in the sense that one can, to the best of his ability, put their application into full context for a particular situation. On the other hand, actually achieving full context is an enormously difficult thing in the fray of daily life. It's so easy to miss facts and other relevant ideas in the heat of stress and motion. Hence, most philosophers (Rand and a few others excepted) don't think that it makes sense to talk about applying principles absolutely. Theoretically, sure. But to act in an absolutely - i.e., flawlessly - principled fashion, no.
Now, if Rand meant that it's possible to do the right thing - to act perfectly at times or in certain situations - like bowlers can hit 300 games or golfers can shoot holes-in-one - sure, who could disagree with that? But to achieve perfection overall in one's moral life? I've yet to meet the man who's done so. I think it's inconsistent with human nature. Part of our nature is to learn by trial and error - i.e., from our constantly generated imperfections.