Ambience

They finally turned on the radiators throughout the dorm, and boy do those old things work well.  Today was probably the warmest day we've had since I arrived; I had to open my windows to keep from baking.  One interesting thing about my radiator is that, as the water runs through the pipes to reach them, it makes a nice trickling-water sound.  It's like having a fancy water feature in my dorm room, minus the tropical fish. 

My little reading area and big window.  See those books piled on top?  That's only half of what I have to have read by next Tuesday.  I already spend a lot of time here...

And out of my big window I have a lovely view of the parking lot, where the garbage trucks pull in every morning at 6:00 to empty all the dumpsters.  This morning they emptied the big "Glass Bottles" one, and in my haze of half-asleepness, I thought for sure my windows had just shattered.   

I now have more batteries for my camera, so hopefully I can pick up where I left off in my photo-taking.  Eventually I'll create an album on Facebook for all of them. 

This is my dorm - Aberdare Hall - from the front.  It's a very stately sort of building and by far the prettiest of all the residence halls.  It's a women-only dorm - no boys allowed.  Some people make fun of this fact, but I love Aberdare because it is big and old and quiet (for the most part) - perfect for those times when you need to study in peace.

Today was a very quiet day - mostly reading.  This afternoon I walked around campus with my friend Joanne while she took pictures for her friends and family, and this evening has been spent with my new friend Melle just hanging out in my room talking and playing around with hair and makeup like a couple of girls.

Tomorrow is my busy day: lot's of classes, also a party in the evening for the Postgraduate Archaeology and Conservation students.  I still need to squeeze in a bit more reading tonight, so adieu for now.

Cold and wet.

I'm beginning to realize how appropriate it was that this blog is entitled "On a rainy day," because in my time in Cardiff so far, it has rained every day.  My new big, red umbrella has already more than paid for itself and has earned a permanent place in my purse/book bag/hand.

No hot water in the whole of Aberdare Hall this morning, so cold showers for all!  The bad part about this scenario is the fact that they haven't yet turned on the heating in the building except for the radiators in the main hallways.  It is currently 57 degrees outside and the windows aren't exactly double-paned. 

Today I plan to walk down to the city center with my friend Joanne (whom I met via Facebook several months ago) and do a bit exploring around the stores and shops, as well as visit the National Museum of Wales which is literally just down the street.  I will also stop in to check on how my bank account application is coming along; hopefully it will be all approved and ready to go.  Hopefully.

Those of you who check in on my blog regularly will probably be privileged with pictures sooner than those who wait for me to post them to Facebook.  Here are a few for starters:

This is the way the entire building is heated - giant iron radiators.  Not too strange or even inefficient, but definitely a bit antique. 

A view of my bedroom window from the outside.  A view from the inside will be included later, once I organize my room enough to take pictures of it. 

Tea - my favorite in the whole wide world, and now a nightly ritual.  I can drink all the tea I want here and people don't think it's strange.  They even provide it in by-the-barrel quantities for breakfast every morning.  They understand.

Aaaaaaannd here we are again. Surprise.

"The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his paths." Prov. 16:9, NAS 

I was recently complimented on being an unusually patient person. Though my initial reaction to the praise may have been something like "Why yes I am, thank you for noticing," I knew immediately that I have never earned that particular recognition.  I am NOT a patient person, and any impression I may give of being so is simply my ability to mask my utter frustration with a situation.  Even while appearing to be the very model of calm and collected endurance, what is going on in my mind is very likely A.) yelling, B.) panic, or C.) both. 

To claim to be a "get-it-done" sort of person would be putting the the situation mildly.  I like to have a plan and stick to the plan.  I want to do everything possible, well in advance, to ensure that there are no interuptions or unforseen changes to the plan.  I like to know exactly where I stand and have all my bases covered.  The conflict occures when my personal preferences and modus operandi meet real life -- in particular, real life according to God's timeline.  Rarely do they agree.

"'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways.' declares the Lord." Isaiah 55:8

Not once in my life have things actually worked out the way I planned, yet for some reason I keep expecting them to.  I am, therefore, forced to re-learn the same lesson over and over again, and this particular time in my life is no exception.  It's the same struggle every single time, and it comes down to a lack of trust in my Lord's ability to do His job and to work everything out for good.   When things don't happen in the way or time I would like them to, I get frustrated and go into panic mode.  I should know better by now, but God remains patient with my impatience.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." Prov. 3:3

Well, I'm still working on it.

Hamster wheels and treadmills.

"...It was a quick succession of busy nothings..."

Jane Austen was a genius; it's just a fact.  I don't think she ever wrote a word that I don't love, and if my blog has a long run, this won't be the last time I quote her.  She had an incredible way with words. 
The above line is from her novel Mansfield Park, but in the 1999 movie version it was turned into the thought "Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings" by the story's heroin, Fanny Price.

The first time I heard this line I thought, Yep, that pretty much sums it up.  Because, to be honest, sometimes that's how it feels - running, running, accomplishing little, and going nowhere fast.  It will probably be an ongoing process, but I want my life to be full of somethings, not nothings.  On my own I produce little more than days full of wasted hours and missed opportunities, but I pray that over time - and with considerable help from the Lord - I will eventually have something worthwhile in light of eternity to show for all of my busyness. 

Bushel baskets and all that jazz.

Sometimes I really wish I could write music.  Or poetry, either one.  Not that I haven't tried before, I have, but though I wouldn't classify the attempts as complete failures, they certainly didn't produce any works of genius.  Some days, like today when it's so bright and sunny out or on days when it's delightfully gloomy (and some days when I'm just feeling creative), I get the sudden urge to write a song.  Now, I can write prose with the best of them (or at least the fair-to-middling of them) and I can compose music in my head fairly easily, but as soon as I sit down to express my thoughts in lyrical form, my writing talent takes a sudden turn for the worse, producing little better than the musical equivalent of "see Spot run."  And so, after I have produced one or two lines that would be generously described as mediocre, I usually give up, frustrated that my creative outlet has run dry, and sad to see that my afternoon is gone. 

Anyone who knows me very well will know that I love to draw.  Drawing is usually my creative expression of choice, but a picture (arguably) cannot always express thoughts and feelings with the precision of the English language - a language at which I am, apparently, only intermittently adept. 

But, I must remind myself as I once again take up my drawing paper and pop on my iTunes playlists, just as the Bible says 'of the writing of many books there is no end,' the writing of many songs seems to be endless.  Of the thousands already written, I'm sure to find one that matches my mood (at least one), and I will be left with the time to pursue the talents God chose to give me, rather than mourning the ones I seem to lack. 

Speaking of which, let's talk about the time I wanted to be a singer...

Confessions of a failed blogger.

Well, it's been at least five years since I last considered myself a consistant blogger - back when I boasted a well-loved Xanga account, detailed the uneventful days of a homeschool senior, and included regular quotes from Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean.  I can't promise that this blog will be any more impressive or interesting, but hopefully I can find better quotes this time around. 

I've had this Blogger account since 2007, but never did anything with it outside of the writing group I was part of (and even then it was only for the purpose of commenting on other blogs).  As it appears that my life in the immediate future may yeild things more worthy of chronicling, however, I think I am ready to give blogging another go-around.