I'm on MSN with my mother right now, and my grandmother is doing quite poorly. For a 92 year old she's been great - super independent, living in her own apartment. Lately, apparently, she's been having problems with her sciatic nerve and is having to keep off her feet.
Not like I can do anything, even if I was at home, but still...
Festival Battle Spectacular!
Clash of Weapons
2.30pm, Eye of York, by Clifford's Tower
Local forces opposing the marriage of King Sihtric of Dublin to Edith, sister of Athelstan, rise up against the king's forces in bloody battle. Who will win the day? Witness the glitter of sword and spear in our afternoon battle.
Bloody? Glittering swords and spears? Bwahahahaha...
No.
Picture this.
The "battlefield" is smaller than a football pitch (soccer field for all you North Americans). Nic, Claire and I arrive about 2:20. We wait. And we wait. And we wait. The Vikings were late. About 20 minutes late in fact. There is "Viking" music playing in the background, which was more like Trinity College Cambridge's choir meeting Enya, the Chieftans and the Boston Symphony. An announcer (yes, announcer, complete with microphone) is attempting to tell the dramatic story of what is about to unfold, using such fun Viking-esque phrases as "whale-road" (there's a technical term for that particular construction - two words to describe something else entirely - but I can't remember what it is... but it's mostly used in Old English poetry, hence the connection). But he's tripping over his own words, and feels the need to remind us that there was no such thing as the telephone and that the Vikings couldn't call the police. Oy.
Flourish of music.
First come the clerics. Flourish of music. Then, accompanied by the announcer attempting to describe all his Vikingly virtues, Athelstan's forces. Flourish. Then a teensy band of Dubliners. Who are oh, so slowly joined by more.
Athelstan and Sithric meet in the middle of the battlefield... But, alas, treachery, and Sithric summons more backup. A party of horsemen [now, when I say horsemen, think Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but without the coconuts even for sound effect... yup...] ride into the 'fray' and throw their spears at Athelstans forces.
WEAK!
I could throw a javelin better than that. And I suck.
So then the fighting begins. The two sides mostly poke feebly at each other. No one dies, there is no blood and gore. They slowly finish fighting, back apart, the two leaders rally their troops... and after a bit more time well wasted, they start to skirmish again. Repeat from "the two sides" to "troops...".
Oh, look, suddenly some of Athelstan's men are going over to Sithric... At least, it would have been sudden if the announcer hadn't had to drag it out with his poetic meanderings.
Then we got fed up with the whole thing and left. We went shopping and had dinner instead. I bought a tank top and contact lens solution. Oh, joy.
But since people seem to like it when I post photos, here are a few from today.
Athelstan's army entering the field
Sithric's army entering the field
Having a meeting to discuss their differences and see if battle can be avoided
And poking each other feebly with spears.
a) Post from my friend Sarah
b) phone call from Delly Bean
c) post from Delly Bean
d) Received a bracelet I ordered in the post (silver, engraved with "What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us". I bought it in a fit of "I need to cheer up-y-ness").
e) Received photos I got developed in the post (I use Kodakgallery.com - it's easier than walking 40 minutes into town and the shipping is less than a bus ride into town would cost).
f) Received post from my friend Kevin today.
For any of you to whom I owe mail, never fear. It's written. It's addressed. I just haven't actually made it to the post office yet. I might make it there tomorrow.
I always knew I had a twisted sense of humor. Hell, I could just be a twisted person. Who else do you know that spends their Christmas holiday going over 204 infanticide trials to pick out the social trends (yes, that's right, infanticide trials)?
But it's nice to know that my friends have similarly twisted senses of humor. Today there was post for me... and in the post was a book. I knew it was coming - Delly Bean told me it was coming. And to Delly Bean I owe many a smile today...
Because the book was...
The Sacrilicious joy that is...
The Book Of Bunny Suicides.
With a delicious tagline like "Little Fluffy Rabbits Who Just Don't Want To Live Any More", how could you resist?
So very wrong, and yet so very funny...
What the HELL is our Men's Hockey Team doing in Italy?!?!?!
They lost. Again. Sonofa.
I've done my reading for tomorrow.
I have printed out part of the reading I need to do for Thursday.
I've been jogging for two days in a row now.
I'm beginning to feel on top of things again, and it's great.
And to top it all off, I got a phone call today from Delly Bean! We chatted for, like, 1/2 an hour! It was superfantastic. My deflated, bitter self really needed that.
I even went for a jog today and it wasn't interfering. Yes, I went for a jog. That's right. My lungs hurt but other than that I'm mostly ok. Considering I haven't jogged since before Christmas, this is good. I've never been the most fit person around (probably because I've had asthma since a kid and have never been able to exercise like everyone else)... But like I mentioned in the last post, I might never be tiny, but I can at least look fit and toned. I need a gym partner or something for motivation.
Wow, Kate, I can hear you thinking. Another cathedral. Well, suck it up. I like these things, so I'm going to keep posting pics of them because they're amazing. Now. York Minster is big, but you could seriously fit most of York Minster into the NAVE of this thing, I think. Anywho. Aside from being a big gothic building, the Cathedral houses a couple of bits of major interest to a medieval history buff like myself. Exhibit A: The Tomb of Edward, the Black Prince.
AND it was also the sight where Thomas à Becket was martyred when Henry II cried out in exasperation "Will none rid me of this turbulent priest?!" and a couple of his knights took him seriously, now commemmorated by this... Klingon-like memorial. It's beautiful in its own violent way, though.
More pictures can be seen HERE - including a few of my brief 10-minute stop in Rochester.
Then off to London. The conference, "History and the Public", was good, and interesting, but really dry. I'm afraid that for a conference that really seemed to WANT to be interdisciplinary, bringing together museums, historic sites, school teachers, academics, etc., it was really focused on academic history and how that can gain a higher profile. I was especially looking forward to a presentation by a guy from Colonial Williamsburg, whose website, interestingly enough is "history.org"... I mean, really... but moving on. It was supposed to be a paper on their American Indian Initiative. BUT, the dude wasn't there, so someone else read the paper, and I was unable to ask any questions. It seems, though, that they're only in the ever-so-initial stages of figuring out how to integrate interpretation of Native Americans into their day-to-day works, focusing instead for the moment on special programs and exhibitions. Disappointing, really. Although I suppose they've been focused on black history for so long that they didn't really have time to worry about Natives (wow, that was slightly bitter - I have nothing against black history, I just figure if you're going to focus on one neglected group you should probably realize there are other neglected groups out there as well...).
I've gotten some really for real mail that I'm going to have to return to people now - it's quite exciting. And I picked up a small cross-stitch kit on the weekend - a bookmark in a Tudor Rose pattern. Yup. I'm a geek. A massive geek. But I love it.
I also need to find the motivation to start jogging again. I gave up when the weather got cold. But really, the weather isn't really cold. Honest. It was 10 degrees today. Windy, but 10 degrees. I can't complain. And I could stand to lose 10 pounds. I'll never be particularly teeny (ahem...) but I could at least look toned and fit.
Handbell practice tonight. Then tomorrow it's back down to London... for tests.
Yes, tests.
I did something stupid and applied for a 'real' job with the civil service, and, surprise, surprise, the Canadian High Commission in Britain is in London. I have to write three tests on Friday, ao it's easiest to go down Thursday night, stay at my friend's place, then catch a train back up to York after the tests. I _DO_ get to stay with a friend this time instead of a crappy hotel, so it should be all right. The traveling really sucks, but it might lead to a 'real' job eventually. Being an Immigration Officer could be cool... right? Right? Either way I need to stop, take some time off, and earn some money before I get my PhD, if I get my PhD. I'm thinking of switching from straight history into Public History - actually applying my knowledge to real-life situations. But I've babbled on rather longer than I intended, so I shall leave you now.
Ciao until Wednesday or so.
To get to the church, you have to walk towards it through a sort of wooded area. It's really eerie, as the trees are all twisted and gnarled. I couldn't actually get the shot I wanted, though, as there's a light attached to one of the trees.
Once you get through the little wooded patch, you're into an open field for a couple dozen meters. If you look up ,you can see the moon shining through the clouds.
Then you get into the churchyard. This is looking back in the direction from which I just came (but it was either that or shoot into the lights of the church). Most of the graves are from about the mid 19th century. If you look closely in the middle right, though, you'll notice fresh flowers. The last burial in the churchyard took place only a couple of months ago. It's still in use. How cool is that?
Around the other side of the church are two of my favourite gravestones. To the left there, the celtic cross. On the middle-right, it looks like an adult's grave topped with a child's. I have yet to actually read the stone yet, but once it gets light enough to do so, I definitely will. And you see all that white stuff on the ground?
Flowers. In February. How gorgeous is that?
Not only that, but we were asked to go around the room and tell everyone what we were going to work on for our dissertations. Well. I have a vague idea, but no REAL clue. Some of these people had theirs down to an exact person. And those of us who did had only vague ideas were given a severe kick in the self esteem.
Excuse me for just a moment.
How dare they fucking tell me that I'm way fucking behind because I haven't fucking picked a topic for my dissertation yet. It was their fucking idea to load me up with fucking courses first - I have two fucking papers due this term, so I'm a little more worried about those at the moment. YES, I know I was told about the fucking research proposal at the beginning of the year. Well. The fucking professor with whom I'm supposed to be fucking working tends to treat me like fucking crap. He's come out with some classic lines like "This guy wrote a good work, for a Canadian." That's fucking reassuring. I constantly feel that because I'm some fucking 'new world' citizen that talks with some ignorant American fucking accent (I have nothing against Americans, btw, this is just how it all comes across to me) I have to fucking prove myself to these Oxbridge fuckers that can't be bothered helping a student. I'M STILL FUCKING LEARNING FOR CHRISTS SAKE! Not to mention that I can't fucking help where I was born, or that I was born a woman for that matter. Oh, sure, you have a fucking feminist wife. Take it out on all the other fucking women you meet, why don't you? You fucking helped me pick a fucking topic for my paper last term, I was in your fucking class last term, and you can't even remember my FUCKING name without looking down at that damn sheet of paper of yours, or any of the other females in the class, for that matter. I came here to get a fucking education, not to be treated like shit because I'm not quite up to your published academic standards. You know, I wanted to be Dr. M. But not if it means have to be such an asshole that I can't remember the graduate students that I work with names. Not if it means that I treat anyone without a PhD as a second class citizen. I will NEVER fucking be like you and if it fucking means that I have to sacrifice my fucking dream then so fucking be it.
Right. Got that off my chest. BUT, before that, we had lunch, my classmates and I, as we always do. Put me in a _great_ move, which is probably why I felt even more like shit when I walked out of that seminar. You see, one of my classmates is a pretty hardcore Christian. He's big in the University's Christian Union. He even gave a talk yesterday on "What would Jesus say to Bill Gates" (that I didn't attend). He gave us a nice recap at lunch basically saying that Jesus would say everything's crap and it's all how you stand with God in the end. And that that's basically what Jesus would say to tsunami victims as well.
But the question of the cartoons that have been published here in Europe that are of such major offense to a lot of Muslims out there came up. Oops. I made the mistake of asserting my opinion that I can absolutely see why they're offended. It is one of the BIGGEST blasphemies to create an image of the prophet Mohammed. I'd be fucking pissed off if someone offended my sensibilites that badly.
He replied that people draw nasty cartoons of Jesus and Buddha all the time.
That's not the point. The point is that it's offensive to have an IMAGE of the prophet in the first fucking place.
But anywho, I said something about why can't we just show some tolerance and respect. Well. Shit. Suddenly I was being attacked for not allowing a dialogue that would "lead us to the truth". Did I say anything about cutting off the lines of communication? Did I say anything about not talking to people of various religions and learning about what they believe? Did I say anything about closing my mind to what he has to say? No! I just believe that I want to hear more than ONE person/religion's POV. I want a rounded, "liberal-arts" philosophy on religion and spirituality, thank you. I've got news for you buddy. My version of truth is not your version of truth. I don't know if I have a version of truth. And that's the rub with these people. They are so convinced they're 'right' that even if I refuse to see things his way, he's not going to leave it alone. It's his 'duty' to try and put me on the path of righteousness. To save my soul or whatever.
Just leave me alone and understand that my God/dess is my own and yours will not supplant it.
Prompted by genderist's post, I went and visited THIS WEBSITE.
It is NO FREAKING WONDER that no one pays attention to these things any more. Whilst I completely understand and applaud the attempt to bring awareness to a particular condition and/or cause, ribbons have completely lost any sense of uniqueness and have been effectively rendered useless.
I seriously remember when Red ribbons were just for AIDS research. And awareness. Now you can't assume anything. You have to walk up to a person wearing a ribbon and ask them what that ribbon stands for. Which, I suppose, is good - you'll find out about the cause they're attempting to bring attention to - but with so many things that each color stands for, it really loses its impact.
And I don't know which stole the yellow ribbon first - cancer (?) or suicide awareness (1994) - but if you attempt to put the Yellow Ribbon Program into practice these days, you're just as likely to find someone saying "Oh, a cancer ribbon. How nice." And if cancer got there first, then Yellow Ribbon made a big mistake in choosing yellow. And seriously, who, if you run into them on the street, is going to make a big distinction between "gold", "pale yellow" and "yellow"? Who's going to keep track of whether your black and white ribbon is designed in Zebra stripes or three stripes? And could someone tell me what color "prism" is?
I can't wait for the first lawsuit involving ribbon color... I can just hear it now... "we had lavender first, it's ours"...
I used to have a pink ribbon on my backpack. Because I know a _lot_ of people who have had breast cancer or breast cancer scares. But, forgive me, I don't want people coming up to me and asking whether I'm advocating the rights of birth parents. I couldn't care less. It's not on my radar screen. It's a touchy issue. I don't want to deal with it. I _do_ want to advocate for breast cancer research. Hell, I also have a LiveStrong bracelet, because that's also a cancer-related (I don't wear it often - it's become a massive cliche, but my money went to cancer research). I even question the use of _pink_ ribbons now. Look at that list. There are so many sorts of cancer. Why not just have one blanket ribbon that covers all forms of cancer? I'm sure that when you get one form of cancer cure figured out, you'll probably be able to apply a lot of the results to a lot of other forms of cancer by adapting and doing further research.
I want to create my own ribbon. White. With red polka-dots. I'll call it the 'obscure skin allergy awareness ribbon'. Screw the grey ribbon. That doesn't reflect my condition closely enough.
ARGH! Seriously, I'm about ready to scream.
We need to come up with better ideas on how to bring awareness to these conditions folks. Ribbons aren't working any more.
**Edit - Feb 6/06 - 2:41 p.m. I should add that I have absolutely nothing against those who wear the ribbons. I just think they've lost a lot of their meaning and we need to come up with a new way to draw attention to a cause.
Apparently I didn't get all my clothes when I rewashed them... OR... it's not the washing powder that's the problem.
GODDAMN IT!
I couldn't sleep worth shit the last two nights 'cuz I woke up every two hours to scratch/re-apply anti-itch cream. I'm abso-fucking-lutely useless. I can't think straight because I'm constantly telling myself not to rub/scratch. I might as well just buy Benadryl/anti-itch stuff in bulk since I'm having so much trouble isolating what's causing the problem.
I'll be spending my weekend reading. As usual. Although some friends and I might be going to Brokeback Mountain this weekend (none of us have seen it yet, so after holding out this long it's time to fall prey to the hype, I suppose).
Next weekend I head down to London - going to spend the weekend with some family friends, then there's a conference I'm attending on the Monday and Tuesday. Should be quite interesting.
I may also get to use FEP's attempt to recreate the midway, including an exhibit of "'historic freaks'" (direct quote from the Foundation's website, that!) as the foundation (pun not intended) for a paper for my History and Heritage course this term. I'm looking forward to that. The prof is complicating things a little though, talking about theories regarding the "limits of representation" and he actually went off into Holocaust memorials/museums and that sort of thing, which I don't think are quite on the same scale. We'll see how this turns out. I also have to come up with a topic for my witchcraft paper at some point in the near future. Oy.
