Saturday, October 23, 2010

which is mostly rambling.

I miss a couple things about home:

-cooking. Being able to go into the kitchen, throw together ingredients, and see what happens.

-healthy food. Whole wheat and vegetables and natural/unprocessed/organic stuff!

-people under age 18

-Youtube (blocked on the school's network)

-NaNoWriMo (which would be so much fun to do here if a group of us did, but I have yet to find anyone else who's interested. Found one girl who writes vampire novels...)

-a library that doesn't charge to order things. Or take out CDs. Or DVDs.

Right now I'm sitting in the hall by the teapot. Lost my phone card and this is very sad. About to watch Sweeney Todd with the roommates. Our movie selection so far has consisted of 100% chick flicks so this makes me happy.

Duties switched. No more vegetables; it's now the sound room. Recording lectures and controlling microphones. The job comes with lots of perks (i.e. couch, fridge, skylight, the ability to see who is taking notes and who is playing Solitaire) although I think it was bad judgement on their part to put me there—far too many opportunities to make mischief. For instance the laser.

This week we had a series on Ecclesiastes which is brilliant. Both Ecclesiastes and said series. The first time I read that book I thought what the heck?? The second time I understood a little more. The theme of wanting something more: this is awesome. The author tries everything, work, pleasure, power, wisdom. Nothing fulfils the vague longing for something greater. Everything is meaningless. Under the sun. It only makes sense when he realises that God is there, above the sun and the limits of the finite world, weaving threads into beauty and meaning.

I started reading Harry Potter (this will shock half of my friends) for the first time (this will shock the other half). I liked the first book enough to stick with the series, because of the characters and because everyone says they get deeper and darker. But my favourite part was the beginning—the feeling of I was made for something more. The “something more” being spells and fantasy creatures doesn't quite satisfy. The hoping-for parts were better than the real thing. Because longing is something every person can understand and has experienced but the fulfilment of it we're all unsure about.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010


(written ages ago, real post coming soon...maybe)

Dear kitchen staff: Your food is good but I wish you would discover the joys of whole wheat flour. And fruit and vegetables (potatoes don't count). However I am having fun chopping lettuce and things after lunch (usually), especially with your loud and energetic music, and especially when I see you waving dishtowels and dancing.

Dear unbalanced paving stones: When it rains you make walking to the conference hall a strategic adventure. Thank you for ensuring my alertness in lectures by spraying muddy water in my face every time I accidentally step on you.

Dear Carnforth library: I am very sad that one has to pay 50p a week per CD and that my laptop wouldn't connect to your wireless internet. Other than that I whole-heartedly approve of you. I foresee a long and happy relationship.

Dear rooms that we share a wall with (3): I'm SORRY.

Dear Capernwray internet connection: The fact that you a) won't load Goodreads and b) flail and die at any attempt to upload pictures is disconcerting, but I think I am finally getting used to you. Amazing.

Dear roommates: You have music playing at all hours and you occasionally provide chocolate. I think I'll stick around. Maybe. (...No. Kidding. You rock.)

Dear architects: Thank you for including that handy window right above Harmony's bed. It's so much more efficient than using the door every time. (These are also very useful when you're cleaning rooms and don't know the door codes. I think I've crawled through almost every window in this building.)

Dear £5 phone card: I don't know what trick you were trying to pull the first five times I attempted to use you, but I CONQUERED YOU AT LAST. So ha.

Dear Edinburgh: October 29th.We're coming. Look out.

Dear Americans and Canadians around here: It is not pronounced ED-IN-BURG, just sayin'.

Dear God: where do I begin? If I had to sum up, I think a THANK YOU would be a good start.

sincerely, Kelsey.

Thursday, October 7, 2010


That was about all I saw of Iceland.


The third storey of a bookshop in Carnforth.

Three people on a budget + coin-operated dryers... This is what curtain rods are for.