beboots: (Default)
 Hey guys! If you've ever been to Spain before (or, as I know some of you, have lived/are living there right now), I was wondering if I could pick your brains for suggestions. 

You see... I may be going to Spain for a few weeks with my family. 

My mother has been intending on taking me and my (twin) sister on a celebratory vacation after we graduate this spring. We've been throwing around several ideas, and a little while back mum came up with one that seems to be sticking: Spain. 

My mother's father and his wife (whom he ran away with when he abandoned my mum's mum... when my mother was taking her last week of exams before university, so, uh, drama there) live there. They're British, but they apparently live in this small city on the Mediterranean that is composed of roughly 60% older British people. I'm told it's like England's Florida, but, well, more Spanish. ;) Anyway, mum wants to visit Granddad and Claire, mostly because Granddad now has cancer and me and my siblings haven't seen him since we were five. He's doing all right, but if we don't visit now we may never get to. 

So at the moment the plan is to visit Granddad & Claire for a few days, then... head off elsewhere for two weeks or so. The thing is, none of us have really ever been to Spain before. It was never ridiculously high on my "must visit" places in Europe, although I'd always figured I'd make my way there eventually. We may yet spend a week in Spain then fly over to Italy, but I know that there are definitely lots of attractions and awesome historic things in Spain. 

So I pose the question to you, friends list: where would you recommend going? What is awesome in Spain? I probably want to go to Granada because of the interesting Moorish history it has, but... I actually don't know much about Spanish history beyond the Reconquista and its colonial history. Also, wars with France. Some of which involved Hapsburgs. 

(Also, I need to brush off my tiny amount of Spanish gained in a single semester during grade ten... like nearly seven years ago? Holy crap I'm getting older...)

P.S.: I don't think that this post came out as enthusiastic as I'd like it to be. I'm actually thrilled to be going back to Europe! I'm just ridiculously tired right now. Also, I think I need to work up even more enthusiasm by doing research into travel plans. 
beboots: (confusion)
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Yeah, my username is quite weird, and there's a bit of a story behind it. I think it originates from a misunderstanding I had with the origin of a nickname my mother gave me when I was very young, after a cartoon character from a show we watched on German TV back when we lived there... I actually think it must have been Betty Boop. So that misheard set of words became in my toddler/child mind "Beboots", which was later shortened to "Boots", which my mum still calls me by today.

I've used this username since I was... oh god, I must have been eleven or so. First used for my Neopets account, back in the day. I think I used it for my first hotmail account, too, although I no longer use either of those two things. 

I don't think I would change it. I like it, I think it sounds cute it's easy to remember and it's relatively unique. Recognizable, perhaps... although I have been called "Reboot" and "Beboobs" before by people who weren't paying attention on forums. I think it's better than the username that the university computer bots randomly assigned me, which consists of the first letter of my first name and about half of my ridiculously long last name. It looks like gobbledygook and is impossible for people to remember off of the top of their heads so I always have to write it down. Also, I don't necessarily want to publicize my full RL name everywhere.

I do use my RL name for scholarly stuff, work-related stuff, and history dorkery, though, because I'm of the opinion that if future employers want to look me up they'll only see awesome intellectual stuff instead of, well, fandom. ;) Although my mother and others have tried to make me panic about the possibilities of my online persona harming my future job prospects (all of those horror stories about employers looking you up on the interwebs and seeing embarassing, stupid stuff), I'm of the opinion that it can work both ways: if I never let myself be photographed while drunk (which, let's face it, almost never happens - I'm a very sober person), I'll never have really stupid racy pictures of myself on the internet. It can work to your advantage just as much as it can to your disadvantage. Anyway...

As a side note, my other childhood (and current) nicknames given to me by my mother include "fidget-bum", "monkey face" (which doesn't sound as bad as it is because it's apparently a translation of a Dutch endearment), and "petal-fart" (yeah, I don't even know either). My mum always tells me that I live "in the future tense", too, mostly because I'm an impatient person and I'm always worrying about the next thing. I need to learn to live in the moment. 
beboots: (Civil war lithograph)
 Hey guys, today, I'm here to talk to you about poppies. Specifically, the red one that you wear on your lapel at around this time of year if you live in certain countries.

(I'm talking about the one with the really long needle that inevitably falls off so you are forced to buy another one, but hey, it's all to support the veterans! Also, tip: push the end of the needle through the edge of the flower, and it won't fall off. Genius!)

Anyway, I just wanted to put in my two cents in the whole "debate". There are some people out there who object to wearing red poppies. Now, I can understand if you are in, say, the Republic of Ireland, or are a very recent immigrant who feels absolutely no attachment to the sacrifices of Canadian (or British, or other British allies') soldiers especially from the First World War, but also other battles since. I am fine with that. 

But what really makes me angry is when people start using Remembrance Day as an anti-war day. Like, a forum for current politics. 

You know what? Remembrance Day ceremonies (if you actually go to them, and most of these objectors don't) don't glorify death, as many object. At least, none of the ones that I have ever been to have, and I have gone to a ceremony on November 11th ever since I was literally a babe in arms. They are respectful of death. Yes, they use the words "supreme sacrifice" far too often, and sometimes the presenter's take on history is a bit shaky ("When we fought the GERMANS" like they were solely at fault and fighting alone against the entire world in both world wars). Yes, they don't question the validity of the justification for going to war, but they respect the men who died for their country all the same. 

Although we do honour all veterans since the First World War, Canadians haven't exactly participated in a whole lot of controversial wars (unlike in the States with Vietnam and Iraq). You may not believe in the mission in Afghanistan (and, uh, before you rant about it, can you double-check your facts and make sure you're not angry about Iraq by mistake? PLZkthanks), but that's still no reason to disrespect all soldiers, point blank. Even if you are fervently anti-war, can you not at least summon up a modicum of decency to respect people like the Canadian soldiers who liberated Holland, which was being slowly starved (quite literally) by Axis forces during the Second World War? For (and this feels like a cheap shot, but it has to be said) the men who fought Hitler and his allies? If you are anti-war, I'm pretty sure you're probably anti-Hitler. I'm just saying. So have respect for the guys who helped take him down.

I should also take a moment to talk about my own background. Yes, I come from a military family. My father's a Canadian military engineer, now retired, who served in the Gulf War. My mother is British, and my grandmother still lives in England, and she lived through the Second World War (out near Manchester, I believe). My father's mother is a Dutch War bride, from the Holland that Canadian troops liberated from the Axis.

(I also had a Great-Uncle who lost a leg during the First World War when a grenade was thrown into his trench and he had the choice of doing nothing and letting everyone there get killed or stamping down upon it, absorbing the impact, and losing a leg/possibly dying.)

Perhaps these family facts make me biased. Perhaps they make me able to see through other people's bullshit.

Furthermore, if you're all about the justifications of war (like, "we shouldn't be honoring the guys who fought an unjust war!"), the First World War was fought on rather... strange justifications. Almost everyone acknowledges this. But that doesn't change the fact that thousands and thousands of our men died an ocean away from their homes, fighting for their King and country. Look, blame "the Man" all you want, but have a little respect for the people on the ground, guys. 

(I can understand if you're from Quebec and your great-grandfather was drafted against his will to fight for "England's War", though. The Quebecois at least objected, riotously, and pleaded their case at the time... which, incidentally, was one of the reasons that Prime Minister Borden justified giving women the vote in Canada in Federal elections - you could vote if you had a man in the war. So you could vote for his Conscription Bill, obviously, but it's because of the contingencies of war that women enjoy the political power they have today in our country.)

And as for those people selling white poppies "for peace"... I understand the sentiment. I really do. And I'm still torn about the idea of wearing both a red poppy for remembrance and a white poppy for peace. It's a neat idea. Except that most people DON'T wear both. They wear the white one. And it politicizes things. And remember: the purpose of selling those lovely red poppies (by donation) is to help veteran's services. (Another thing that pisses me off: people who rob the poppy sellers. I'm beginning to feel old when I feel the need to exclaim" Now what is this society coming to?") Where does the money paid for white poppies go? I've never seen it publicized (but I'm willing to be informed, if anybody reading knows). Making Remembrance Day into a debate about the merits of war vs peace is silly, and it's taking money away from the veterans by discouraging people to display the red poppy. 

By the way, guys, the vast majority of these soldiers were not fighting because they WANTED TO. They weren't fighting because it was "fun", or because they liked being violent. They were fighting for the same thing as you: peace. And guess what? They succeeded. More or less. 

Veterans get enough flak as it is. They need all the support that they can get. And it's one day, guys. Seriously. Have respect for ONE DAY, hell, even the ONE MINUTE (or two) of Remembrance at 11:00 this Thursday. Just be quiet for those two minutes of silence, and have respect. Go back to campaigning for peace afterwards, after having respect for the men you died for YOUR cause.

Hell, even create an international day for peace! If there isn't one already. And sell your white poppies then. I'd buy one. Just don't do it by disrespecting your elders and countrymen.

I'm just going to end with a little poem that's always read on Remembrance Day ceremonies, and when read properly, I always get shivers. (Hint, don't pause at the end of the lines: pause at the end of the sentences. In fact, I'm going to shake things up and ignore the traditional stanza divisions, and write out the full sentences. Pause at the end of every line here.)

In Flanders' fields the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row that mark our place.
And in the sky the larks, still bravely singing, fly, scarce heard amidst the guns below.

We are the dead. 
Short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved, and were loved.
And now we lie in Flander's Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe. 
To you from failing hands we throw the torch.
Be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die we shall not rest.
Though poppies grow,
In Flanders' field
s. 
-Lt. Col. John McCrae, 1915

(That turned out to be a really long and serious post after being prompted by a series of stories in the National Post over breakfast. Anyway, thoughts?)
beboots: (confusion)
 I can't decide if today was a good day or a bad day. Let's see, what happened?

To begin with, I have an 8am class to which I have to commute from another city. That means that I get up at 6:15, to catch a bus at 6:54 from my house... only I missed it. So I had to leap in my car to drive frantically to the transit station to catch the right bus. But I did end up catching it! So: not late for the last class before the midterm. Also, I didn't forget my lunch. Bonus?

Anyway, I then I had a three hour break. :/ I got some reading done, but never enough. A Temeraire/Harry Potter fanfic that I've been following was updated, so I got to read that on my little iPod, so it wasn't all boring. Also, lunch! And snacks! (Salted nuts, cheese slices, homemade yogurt parfait, etc.) So that was fine. I then had my class from 12:30 until 2:00, and the lecture was almost directly relevant to my thesis and thus topic of interest. Sounds fine, right? 

I was pretty tired, though, and I was debating if I wanted to stick around for the three extra hours I'd told myself I was going to so that I could attend a little talk at 5:00 on what one can do with a history degree. I hesitated, really, REALLY tempted to just get on the bus and head home, but I thought, "nah, this is my career! I'd better go". So I stuck around for three hours, getting some reading done, but nowhere near what I would have had I gone home and made some tea and worked on it in a comfy chair with lots of light. 

And then I went to the room, and it turned out that the meeting was cancelled. I didn't get the e-mail because I hadn't RSVPed. >_<; I felt like an idiot, and like I'd wasted my day. I was tired, had a headache, and wanted to go home. 

But I still had a meeting at Fort Edmonton - a dress rehearsal for Spooktacular (more on that in a week or two), and a friend of mine that I carpool with was going to pick me up at university at 6:30. There was no sense in me going home - during rush hour - only to turn around and drive back into Edmonton. 

SO I went to go swimming! (I'd brought exercise stuff just in case, as I had that six hour break.) It was the first time I'd actually used the fitness centre at the university - you know, the one I pay like $160/year to keep running? And I felt really refreshed and energized and healthy after swimming laps for half an hour. 

And then I went back to the Honour's room, where I'd dumped my stuff (my phone, my purse, my study notes)... and I couldn't find my key. Correction: keys. My housekey, my car keys, my two university keys (one of which I need to give back sometime next week). Also, I have several keychains from around the world, bought my myself and by friends, that I'm kind of emotionally attached to. I ran back to the gym (no-one answered my frantic knocks on the honour's room door - surprise surprise, it was past 6pm), and they weren't in the Lost & Found there. I ran back to the room, and this time someone was there to let me in... but no dice, my keys weren't there either. 

I still haven't found them. I'll ask again at the lost & found tomorrow, and I hope for the best. I really, really don't want to have to replace these... :( 

On the plus side, I still have my bus pass and I had a ride home? And I got to pretend to be a zombie (and got to "devour" someone) at the rehearsal?

Verdict? Good day or bad day?
beboots: (Default)
 Another discussion question came up to me today as I biked down to the farmer's market in downtown St. Albert today. I was biking along the river, which has a lovely walking trail... and suddenly, a chain link fence barred my way. Apparently they were doing construction on something in that little valley - I think a sports field of some description. But that's no call to close down about a kilometer of picturesque bike paths! I felt completely justified going down to the river and bypassing the fence. Nobody works on construction sites on Saturdays. 

(Nobody works on construction sites EVER.) 

Anyway, once I'd picked the leaves out of my hair (I had to push my way through the woods to get around the barrier on the other side of the "construction zone" too) I got to thinking about another bicycle issue. 

If the City of Edmonton cannot provide cyclists with a safe bike lane, why can we not legally use the sidewalks? )

Discuss. 

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