Papers, Blessings and Art Galleries

So, this week has been pretty fantastic, which is funny because it is midterm week so it ought to have been terrible. I am just going to start at the beginning:

I had some eye-openers last Sunday. It started with some insights at church and then a not-so-gentle admonition that I was going to spend the rest of my life doing nothing but work if I didn't change something. I made the decision to stop worrying so much, put some more trust in the Lord, and live my life now the way that I want to be living in the future.

As previously mentioned, it was midterm week and so seemed to be a rather bad time to make such a choice. I spent all of the Saturday before on a course excursion to the National Art Gallery in Washington, D.C., so I had a bit of catching up to do on homework. In particular, I was worried about a research paper that I had barely found time to think about, let alone to work on.

This week has been filled with the most fantastic blessings in regard to that silly paper. First, my professor said that the papers could be turned in at class on Friday rather than Wednesday. Then I was given the rest of the week off on my shop hours because I had been so reliable in showing up. On Wednesday, the time for the papers to be due was extended to any time on Friday. Thursday, classes were cancelled because of the snow. Finally, on Friday, the professor said that we just had to have the papers in before he came to get them on Saturday morning.

All of these little things combined into a miracle that just blew my mind. I am quite sure that it was God's way of telling me not to worry because He had everything in hand and would take care of me if I did whatever I needed to do. I've spent the semester bogged down with all sorts of weights, and I'm feeling them lifting now as I turn them over into the hands of the Lord and only take back the part that He wants me to carry at this time. I am so, so glad.

One thing I'm planning to do now is keep in better touch with friends and family, so this blog ought to be seeing a bit more of me for the next little while. We'll see.

P.S. I didn't have much any extra time for photography in the National Gallery (in the five hours we spent there, I only managed to cover one floor of one wing), but here are a few pictures I snapped. Just to show you I was there. It was absolutely gorgeous. I must go back sometime.

Madame du Barry - 1770 - by Francois-Hubert Drouais

I loved this painting because she just looks so nice. The painting was very soft, pale and pretty. It doesn't come across right in the picture, but she just looked like the type of person you would want to know.

A Gentleman of the Zorzi Family - 1570/1580 - Alessandro Vittoria

I fell in love with this guy. The statue, not the artist. It probably helps that he's wearing armor. I've always had a soft spot for any guy in a uniform. It's the set of his jaw, I think; very determined, but carrying a hint of ideology...

Aquamanile in the Form of a Horseman - 13th Century - Probably English or Scandinavian

Guys, this is a pitcher. Not everybody gets that, so they don't appreciate its awesomeness. 

Please appreciate the awesome.

I failed here and didn't actually find out what she was called. Venus Washing, or something of the like. This is a fountain and the water -- wait for it! -- drips out of her hair. *mind blown* Also, it spews out of the mouth of the fish beside her. That is significantly more freaky and less cool.

Disjointed Dump of Seriousness

(Note: This wasn't ACTUALLY published until 2016, when I found the fully completed draft hiding out among all the published posts. I had finished it and completely forgotten to post. As a favor to the Meg of 2014, I decided to remedy that.)

I am ashamed. I said I would post more often, and I haven't posted in more than a month. In my defense, we had midterms in the middle of October and I just needed to give myself a break from HARD THINGS. Also, I spent the last few Sundays talking to people here or at home, which is rather more important than blogging. Right now, I ought to write in my journal, but I don't think I can do it with the guilt of this neglected blog riding on my conscience.

A few weeks ago, Dad asked me to rate my experience here at SVU on a scale of 1 to 10, and I placed it at 10. (I think. I don't actually remember what I said, but the sentiment was that of 10.) Have there been some things that haven't lived up to my expectations? Yes. The food is first on the list, but I can forgive that because I like to think that I wouldn't have reason to complain about it if I wasn't a paranoid vegetarian. As it is, many meals are slightly traumatic as I determine to turn a blind eye to the fact that someone just dropped a chunk of beef in the beans, etc. But the staff really tries to provide us vegetarians with food we can eat, and I appreciate the thought.

As I was preparing to come here, a lot of people asked me why I'm going so far away to school and the only answer I had to give them was that this is the only school I wanted to go to. That fact remains the same. I miss Canada. I was lying in bed last night and it suddenly occurred to me that if I go to school here, I'm probably going to marry an American and end up living in the US. The idea is painful, in a way. A lot of kids talk about how they didn't realize how much they loved their families until they left, but I always knew that my family was the most important thing to me. The place where I hold all my regrets is in my appreciation for my country and my tiny little Magrath. The USA was the one who fought the revolution, who has all the cool places and the hustle of a bustling nation, but there is a distinct tranquility about Canada that I really miss. Canada: the 'invisible' nation. Where 'everybody's nice' and the world just looks clean.

Even with all of that, I want to come back to this school. I recognize that I am insanely blessed in that I love all of my teachers. Homework and classes can pile up at times and make my life go crazy, but I still savor every opportunity to sit in class and soak up whatever the teacher has to tell me. I feel like I have the world at my fingertips, and it shows. My life is changing. I started NaNoWriMo yesterday, and everything that I have learned in Tyranny & Totalitarianism came spilling out as my main character was learning how to bring down a country. I have some sort of crazy dream about working at NASA now. Dad is going to be so happy when I come home and know how to use a drill and build a wooden flat. Over the past few years, I've felt like I just didn't like to learn, but I do now. I'm excited for life now.

As you may know, I spent the last year wishing to die. It got better in March, but I still didn't really have any idea of what my life would be like if I lived to old age. On the one hand, I had a sort of hazy idea about getting married and having kids, but I couldn't picture it anymore. The other option, the one where I spent my days doing things I didn't really care about and then came home to a place that was cold and dark and empty, was seeming far more likely. Both ideas scared me, but they don't anymore. It's funny because during those months of depression, I chose the second option in my head. It wasn't the one that I wanted, but it was the one I could see. Now, as my life has opened up, I can see myself being happy whatever happens. The idea of marrying somebody doesn't seem alien to me anymore, but I think I could be happy if it was my lot to live alone. I've learned to love life again, and that makes me happy.

Sorry for the disjointed dump of seriousness. It just sort of came out, but I think I'll keep it. If all the testimonies given in sacrament today give an accurate depiction, this last week has been pretty hard on everybody, but I'm feeling at peace now. I've decided to do NaNoWriMo this year, if you missed the reference above. It is going to require writing 2,000 words a day (besides homework), and I'm still not quite sure how I'm going to do it, but I feel like I need to get this story out of my head before I can move on with life. (And yesterday's writing was pretty stinking fun.)

Good luck with your lives. I love you all.