Maryland SB 116

The Maryland "Civil Marriage Protection Act" has been debated today and will get its final vote tomorrow. I had urged my representatives and the governor to support the bill. I didn't say anything terribly interesting or unusual, just that I support equal rights, including equal marriage rights, for all Marylanders. I took Equality Maryland's basic "please do the right thing" e-mail and added my own thoughts, including my belief that "gay marriage is just marriage."

And it certainly didn't hurt that one of my reps, Delegate Sheila Hixson, co-sponsored the legislation and another, Senator Jamie Raskin, was one of the legislators who introduced the bill.

So I am holding my breath as Maryland is given the chance to treat all of her citizens with dignity and respect. Sort of like in 1864: “Because Maryland remained in the Union, it was exempted from the anti-slavery provisions of the Emancipation Proclamation.(The Emancipation Proclamation only applied to states in rebellion). In 1864 the state held a constitutional convention that culminated in the passage of a new state constitution. Article 24 of that document outlawed the practice of slavery. In 1867 the state extended suffrage to non-white males." (Via Wikipedia)*

The full text of the bill can be found here. It ain't very long and, frankly, it's not all that provocative. It merely lifts the "one man and one woman requirement." But then most really big things aren't that wordy.

And here is Senator Raskin's reply to my letter:

Dear Leta

Greetings and thanks for your very thoughtful note in support of the Religious Freedom and Civil Marriage Protection Act, the legislation that I have introduced with Senator Madaleno to end the stain of discrimination against tens of thousands of people in our state who are locked out of the institution of marriage. I consider it not only a serious moral and constitutional obligation but a high honor to be fighting for equal rights, benefits and responsibilities for my thousands of gay and lesbian constituents. We are making major gains across the country in securing equal citizenship for all our people and dramatic progress here in Maryland, where I believe we are on the verge of passing SB 116 this Session. I have been working very hard to convince wavering and undecided colleagues that this will be a vote they can be proud of for the rest of their lives. We had an extraordinarily successful hearing on Tuesday, February 8 in which the breadth and passion of support for marriage equality was manifest, along with the palpable weakness of arguments on the other side. On Thursday, February 17, I joined six of my colleagues on the Senate Judicial Proceedings Committee to vote in favor of the bill, 7-4, and to report the bill to the floor; the Committee also adopted an amendment I offered to assure churches and church-sponsored groups that they will not have to participate in the solemnization or celebration of any marriage they choose not to. In any event, Equality Maryland has been doing a superb job organizing, and I am convinced that we are going to win.

I am certain that the days of marriage discrimination are numbered and we will see justice on this front in our lifetimes, probably very soon. I am proud to be part of this movement for equal rights under the law for all Marylanders. Thanks for taking the time to write me, and please stay in close touch.

All best, Jamie

*I was actually assuming that I would have to include an example of some disgraceful aspect of Maryland history, so I am very grateful to Those Strangers on the Internet for providing me with something more uplifting.**


**And now you’re trying to remember when the 13th and 15th Amendments to US Constitution were enacted, right? December 1865 and February 1870, respectively. As goes Maryland …

Camping ... in Pennsylvania

A couple of years ago, when I was working on Taking Leave, I would have dinner after rehearsals with a friend. We'd chat about this and that and I don't really remember how much of my Markland experience peppered my conversation but apparently enough because one day he said something along the lines of "This camping you mentioned: did it happen ... in Pennsylvania?"

Why, yes. Yes, it did. I used to go to the Pennsic Wars every August and be all medieval surrounded by hundreds of other people being all medieval, too. There was very little that was modern as far as the eye could eye could see. Well, except for the coolers.* And the sunglasses. And the paperback science fiction.

Every Pennsic had its own character but certain things seemed to be a given: There would be at least one torrential rainstorm during the week which would teach excellent lessons about the inadvisability of having one's blankets touching the edge of one's canvas tent and about how efficient a process "wicking" can really be; at least one person would get what everyone else called the Plague but more literal me called a flux,** although thankfully not a bloody flux; and at least one someone would hook-up with one someone else with said hook-up turning out to rather regretable and a fruitful source of mockery in the future.

I haven't been to a Pennsic in years, so imagine of my delight when I found this post on Medieval News.***

Ahhh, good times.


* We used coolers for our food because food poisoning is no fun no matter what century you are currently inhabiting. And it's even less fun when you are a modern person sleeping in a tent and sharing a port-a-potty.

** See the reason for the use of achronistic coolers, supra.

***I should note, however, that even though the "Voice of America" video says that the winner of the Pennsic War receives the title to Pittsburgh, them of us what were there, know that it's the loser who takes possession. See? Even those strangers on Wikipedia agree with that.

Haaave you met Ted?

It is a cheery myth among my friends that I know everyone. One time I was presenting an award at Silver Spring Stage's annual awards party and Michael introduced me by saying that I needed no introduction as I know everyone. I got to the mike and something like, "Not quite. There are eight or so of you here that I haven't met. Please see my on your way out."

So tonight after the Nats game*, David and I decided to take the Circulator bus back to Union Station instead of fighting the crowds getting on the green line. David waved his wallet (which contains his SmarTrip card) over the reader on the bus and then I began explaining to the bus driver that I didn't have mine with me.

"Throw her off the bus!" commanded a voice from the front. The driver laughed and waved me back and David and I went and sat with theater-friend Blake (for the commanding voice was his), who was on the bus and who had been at the game. How nice to run into someone we knew!

We were chit-chatting waiting for the bus to get underway and someone near by took a closer look at me. "Leta?" It was Brick, one of my Markland friends, who I haven't seen in probably ten years or more. So that was nice, too!**

David watching me begin to ping-pong a conversation between these people from the disparate parts of my life and asked me if there was anyone on the bus I didn't know.

"Yes," I said, pointing to the nearest stranger. "Him." I stuck out my hand, "Hi, I'm Leta."

"Brian." He smiled and shook my hand.

So that's one more down and only 5 billion and some to go before I actually do know everyone.


*Pirates 8, Nats 5 in ten innings. Alas.
**Actual tally for the evening: Lauren from work was at the game but wasn't there with us, I saw her near the consessions; Jacki and Evan were at the game and I got to say "hi" to them during the 6th inning; Blake and Brick (and Brian) were on the bus; Blake introduced me to his friend Ashley and her friend while we were underway; and Rich and Peggy were on the Metro. Brett is going to be surprised to read this, but I didn't see anyone from my high school all evening.

All Around My Hat

Incorruptible is deliberately anachronistic which has all sorts of time-tossed music running through my head as we get the show ready to go up. Now, naturally, no one could consider herself a college medievalist who wasn't familiar with Steeleye Span, so this song seems to be nudging Apollo 100's Joy from the top of the list of "my current braingum."

Want it stuck in your head, too? Here 'tis! But I'm sure that it won't get at all stuck in your head. Not at all. It's perfectly safe to listen to and will leave your memory practically as the song finishes. You won't be humming it at the coffee maker or in the elevator because it won't be stuck in your head. Nor will you turn it up and sing along until your Boss shuts his door.

Steeleye Span - All Around My Hat / Farewell He

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.

Fare thee well cold winter and fare thee well cold frost
nothing have I gained but my own true love I've lost
I'll sing and I'll be merry when occasion I do see
he's a false deluding young man let him go farewell he

Other night he brought me a fine diamond ring
but he thought to have deprived me of a far better thing
but I being careful like lovers ought to be
he's a false deluding young man let him go farewell he and

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.

Quarter pound of reasons and a half a pound of sense
a small sprig of time and as much of prudence
you mix them all together and you will plainly see
he's a much deluding young man let him go farewell he and

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.

How to avoid answering that question

Warning - if you have delicate sensibilities, you might want to stop reading after the word "whew." Just a suggestion. Because mental images? They could form.

I am not a smoker. I did smoke some clove cigarettes in college because I thought that they smelled nice and (probably) because I thought that they were cool. And because I thought that they weren't really cigarettes.*

So to prep for Agnes, I am taking "smoking class" with one of my co-workers, which is the source of much conversation around the office. (Possibly the only thing that I could do to evoke more comment would be to get pregnant. And, no, I'm not willing to do that for my art.) The cigarettes that I am using for the show - in compliance with the Maryland Clean Indoor Air Act, are tobacco and nicotine-free. They are made from "lotus leaf, corn silk, licorice root, and plant extracts and essences," and, according to my co-worker, smell and taste worse than actual cigarettes. They also have health warnings on them because they are still a lung irritant-delivery system.

Every day for the next few weeks, I'll go downstairs with my co-worker when she takes her 3:00 break and we will hang outside the back door and smoke together. Yesterday I learned not to smoke like a novelty item, and every day in every way I'll get better and better.**

So, as I say, this is the source of much interest around the office. One of my bosses has offered to teach me to chew tobacco should it ever be necessary for a role (uhm.... thank you?) and today we had this exchange:

You don't have to inhale, do you?

Yeah. It's a hundred-seat house, so fake smoking looks like fake smoking which is distracting.

So is that the most unsavory thing you've had to do on-stage?

Uhm... no.

Oh?

Yeah. And one of our co-workers saw that show. And told me I did a good job.

(pause)

You're blushing, so I think I won't ask any more questions.


Whew.

Because I cannot come up with a scenario where I explain the (fully dressed) fake oral sex that I had on stage during Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead without both of us being weirded out for the rest of the day. Minimum.


*They are real cigarettes. With oil of clove sprayed on the tobacco. And no filter. How I was ever admitted to an institution of higher learning remains a mystery.

**Émile Coué -- Tous les jours à tous points de vue je vais de mieux en mieux

Come dancing

Define worth dancing to...

The theme to "Speed Racer" or "Linus and Lucy";
The choral section of the 9th Symphony; and
prett' near anything up-tempo with a good, strong beat.

What about dancing for...?

"Worth dancing for" is so much easier: Weddings, babies, joy, and love.

(From a recent e-mail with a friend, his questions, my answers)


None of those pieces of music got played but I still went dancing Sunday night. I know - many of you just re-read that first sentence and thought "Odd, I didn't hear anything on the news about widespread destruction and panic." Maybe it made the later editions.

The way that I ended up dancing was easy - Greykell (yes, the Greykell!) and I went to see The Foreigner that afternoon and we were hanging out at her place afterwards. She asked what I was doing later and I said that if I was smart, I'd go home and highlight the rest of my lines for Arcadia.

Did I want to go Oella Dancing instead? I didn't know for sure what "Oella Dancing" was but Grey's not the loud, hot, crowded club type any more than I am, so I knew that it wouldn't be that. And Grey and I know several people who ballroom dance, so there was a good chance that Oella Dancing would involve some or all of them.

I dithered for a little bit while Aly whispered "Go dancing" in a subliminal kind of way. And so I agreed to go.

I haven't been dancing of really any kind in years. I haven't even done any shows with choreography in them in forever. And I'm not a very good dancer between the imperfect knees and the inability to translate patterned movement from my brain to my feet. But my partners (Larry, and Dave, and Dark Eric) were kind and we whirled around the floor in one-steps (walking to a melody, more or less) and waltzes and swing dance-y things. It was lovely.

For years and years the only dances I could execute at all well (besides my specialty, desk dancing) were:

the Highland Fling (taught me to at YMCA camp before my knees went south);
the grapevine/Hora;
and a waltz.

For Pippin long years ago Lorraine beat into me taught me to do a scissor step, but I don't think that I've retained it. In fact, I know I haven't retained it. But after repeated, random exposure, I'm starting to kind of pick up the elements of some swing dances.

And in college I was in what I thought of as "Grey's dance troupe." No, really, I was. Really. Grey is about the only person I know who can consistently talk me into dancing. Actually, Grey used a couple extra dice when she made her charisma roll, so she can talk prett' near anyone into prett' near anything. So I was in Markland's dance troupe, Thrir Venstri Foetr* for several years and actually did exhibition dancing. You know, for the public. Where they could see me.

Fortunately, medieval dancing (back when I learned it, when it was contemporary dancing, I guess) comes in more or less two categories -- the pavanne (or pavane - the double n spelling seems to be specific to Markland, but it's pronounced puh-VAH-n) which is the "ooh, look at my pretty dress" stately dance and the bransle (pronounced "brawl") which is the "let's shout, get sweaty, and drink more beer" vigorous dance. (There are also the steps to "Scotland the Brave," and while it is my personal favorite, this girl was never a serious candidate to learn that dance - too much jump and pivot, you know?)

So dancing reasonably competently on Sunday was just a delight. Like most of the things that Greykell suggests doing. I must go again sometime. Soon.

And, by the way, it's called "Oella Dancing" because it happens in Oella, Maryland which is reached by driving on the sorts of swoopy roads that are like dancing in themselves.


*Forgotten our Old Norse, have we? Three Left Feet.

And from (of course) Hello, Dolly! the song that sums up the evening.

Dolly:
Put your hand on her waist and stand
With her right in your left hand
And one two three, one two three, one two three...

Cornelius:
Look I'm dancing!
Well, I was.

Dolly:
Of course you were, Mr. Hackl!

Take the someone whose arms you're in
Hold onto her tight and spin
And one two three, one two three, one two three...

Cornelius:
Wow, I'm dancing!

Dolly:
Turn around and turn around, try floating through the air
Can't you be a little more aesthetic?

Cornelius:
Don't you think my dancing has a polish and a flair?

Dolly:
The word I think I'd use is athletic!

Cornelius:
Well my heart is about to burst
My head is about to pop
And now that I'm dancing who cares if I ever stop!
...Look at me, everybody! I, Cornelius Hackl...Sport
...Am dancing!

Dolly:
You're next, Mr. Tucker!
Glide and step and then step and glide...

Barnaby:
And everyone stand aside!

Cornelius:
He's dancing!

Dolly:
You could learn to polka if you worked a week or so
Or the tango filled with passion seething

Barnaby:
I might join the chorus of the castle garden show

Dolly:
Whatever you do for gosh shakes keep breathing

Barnaby, Dolly and Cornelius:
For my heart is about to burst
My head is about to pop
And now that I'm dancing who cares if I ever stop!

Mrs. Molloy:
When there's someone you hardly know
But wish you were closer to
Remember that he can be near to you
While you're dancing

Though you've only just said "hello"
He's suddenly someone who
Can make all your daydreams appear to you
While you're dancing

Make the music weave a spell
Whirl away your worry
Things look almost twice as well
When you're slightly blurry

Dolly:
As around and around you go
Your spirits will hit the top

Dolly, Cornelius, & Mrs. Molloy:
And now that we're dancing
Who cares if we ever stop

Mrs. Molloy, Barnaby, Dolly and Cornelius:
One-two-three
One-two-three
One-two
And now that we're dancing
Who cares if we ever stop

The Humanities Geek Test

Okay, I heisted this from The Archer Pelican and knew I had to post it when I read questions number 3 and 4. So we all know that my score is at least a 2.*

I also had to post it because my smart and beautiful niece is currently a student at Radford. One ignores these little cosmic things at one's peril.

Long years ago, when I was in college (at the Maryversity of Uniland), the Rice Purity Test was all the rage, and made even more popular by its emphasis on things done for/to/with members of the opposite sex. College students are basically lawyers at heart, so we all immediately glommed onto the idea that instead of promoting "purity," the test encouraged bi-curious experimentation. My D&D and Markland pals could be divvied up into a few groups:

1. Those who thought that any score above 50 was nothing all that remarkable;
2. Those who thought that any score below 80 was remarkable and vowed to keep theirs above that line;
3. Those who, upon taking the test the first time, devoted their off hours to lowering their scores;
4. Those who, upon learning the scores of some of our friends, vowed never to exchange any body fluid of any kind with them ever;
5. Those who thought the test was poorly constructed (see bi-curious leanings, supra)** and therefore disregarded the results;
6. Those who thought the test was puerile and disgarded it entirely.

Guess which one I was.

Oddly enough, I had dinner with a friend the other night where we discussed/fondly recalled our mispent college years which brought the RPT to mind. More synchronicity...

Maybe I'll print out the RPT before our next dinner so that we have some handy talking points. On the other hand, if I can convince him to put in a couple of hours discussing being and nothingness, I can improve my Humanities Geek Test score.

The difference between the RPT and the HGT is that for the Rice you start at 100 and subtract a point for every "yes." With the HGT, you start at 0 and add a point for every "yes." I would point out that #92 is not a yes/no question unless you chose to count French as a yes and American as a no. That's what I did.***

The Humanities Geek Test (by Laura Cubbison)

After T-bone posted the scientific nerd test, I started thinking about a test for eggheads (humanities geeks). Some of the questions on his test work for eggheads too, so I kept them in. I wrote most of the questions myself, and T-bone contributed a few more. Once I finished it, I figured up my score as 55.

I actually wrote this before the coffee house sketch on MST3K, but I did add two questions inspired by the sketch.

Laura

--EGGHEAD TEST--

For each of the following questions which you answer 'yes,' add one point to your score. Your total at the end is your percentage of eggheadedness.


1)Have you ever gone to a coffee house?
2)Have you ever talked about being and nothingness?
3)Have you ever been to a Pinter play?
4)Do you know who Pinter is?
5)Have you ever done #2 continuously for more than four hours?
6)At a coffee house?
7)Do you wear glasses?
8)Are your glasses shaped like John Lennon's?
9)Is your vision worse than 20/40?
10)Worse than 20/80?
11)Are you legally blind?
12)Have you ever taught freshmen?
13)Have you ever answered a question in lecture after a moment of silence?
14)Have you ever corrected a professor?
15)Have you ever refused to answer a hypothetical question?
16)Have you ever had to sit in a circle in a classroom?
17)Do you save your lecture notes in file folders?
18)Do you never sell back your textbooks?
19)Do you own a black turtleneck shirt?
20)Have you ever used a microfilm reader?
21)Have you ever used a microfiche reader?
22)Have you ever used gopher to retrieve James Joyce's _Ulysses_ for a research
paper?
23)Is your weight less than your IQ?
24)Have you ever done #2 on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of the same weekend?
25)Have you ever done #2 past 4 a.m.?
26)Have you ever done #2 with someone of the opposite sex?
27)Have you ever done #2 for money?
28)Do you have own a copy of Thomas Pynchon's _Gravity's Rainbow_?
29)Have you read _Gravity's Rainbow_?
30)Did you understand _Gravity's Rainbow_?
31)Without Cliff's Notes?
32)Do you have a copy of the Riverside Shakespeare?
33)Do you have straight hair of all one length?
34)Does it fall in your face?
35)Do you admit to being a white male oppressor?
36)Do you express your rage against white male oppressors?
37)Can you define deconstructionism?
38)Do you know the Allegory of the Cave?
39)Do you know the words that follow "To be or not to be"?
40)Do you have them on a t-shirt?
41)Have you ever quoted Nietzsche?
42)Do you know who wrote _Waiting for Godot_?
43)Have you seen _Waiting for Godot_ in the theater?
44)Do you own more than $500 in books?
45)More than $1000?
46)More than $2500?
47)Do you stack your books in the corner of the room?
48)Have you ever seen a Merchant/Ivory film?
49)After you read the book?
50)Did you cry?
51)Did you fail the math portion of the GRE?
52)Have you ever done homework on a Friday night?
53)Have you ever pulled an all-nighter?
54)Have you ever written a short story?
55)Have you ever written poetry?
56)Done #55 in the last three months?
57)Done #55 in the last three weeks?
58)Have you ever memorized a poem?
59)Are your pants rolled up because they're too long?
60)Do you wear sandals?
61)Have you read _The Canterbury Tales_?
62)In middle English?
63)Have you ever attended a Shakespeare in the Park production?
64)Have you ever seen a Shakespeare play in a theater?
65)Have you ever entered a writing contest?
66)Did you win?
67)Can you identify Jacques Derrida?
68)Have you ever read anything by Derrida?
69)By Michel Foucault?
70)Have you ever used a colon in the title of a research paper?
71)Have you ever applied literary criticism to a television show?
72)Have you ever used inter-library loan?
73)Have you ever had to justify your field of study to your parents?
74)Have you ever used the word "hermeneutics" in a conversation?
75)Do you view participation in extracurricular activities as a violation of
your non-conformity?
76)Do you dress exactly like your non-conformist friends?
77)Do you know more than 1 modern language?
78)More than 2?
79)Do you know an ancient language no longer spoken?
80)Have you ever made a literary joke?
81)Did no one get it?
82)Have you ever attended a conference?
83)Did you read a paper?
84)Did you attend all the presentations?
85)Did you ask a question?
86)Have you ever used the word "verisimilitude"?
87)Can you count in Roman numerals?
88)Have you ever had a book review published?
89)In a newspaper?
90)Have you ever MSTed a textbook?
91)Have you ever attended a RenFest?
92)Do you pronounce "Sorbonne" like an American or a Frenchman?
93)Have you ever bought bottled water?
94)Have you ever drunk Perrier?
95)Is Guinness Stout the only beer you drink?
96)Did you major in philosophy or literature?
97)Have you ever read Beowulf?
98)In Old English?
99) Have you ever bought Let's Go Europe?
100)Do you apologize for the existence of Western Civilization?

* It is, in fact, a 44. Which I determined the easy way by setting up an Excel page with the questions and using 1 and 0 for my answers. One quick =sum later, I had my score. Sigh.

**Nowhere in the test does it mention using "supra" instead of "above" in casual writing. But that one's probably on the "Utter Preteniousness Test."

***David will probably disagree with me on what my answer to that one should be.

Usually we're just kidding

When I hung out with a bunch of medievalists in college (many of whom I still hang out with because they are such lovely people) our response to anything being thrown - including little, squishy decorative pillows - was to whine "You'll put your eye out!" or "It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye."

The whining was very important because we were making fun of the self-appointed safety patrol who would nag people about safety procedures of which we were already aware. (For some reason, the SASP were all natural whiners.) We were also quoting A Christmas Story, but that's not the point.

But I bet if the internet had delivered up unto us this story of a modern medievalist unintentionally doing his impression of Harold Godwinson, we'd had shut our sarcastic yaps for a few days.

Urk.

Man speared in the eye during medieval joust for tv show

Chainmail

It looks as though WikiHow is going through my college days looking for suggestions. For instance, today we have How to Make Chainmail and while I didn't make nearly as much as many of the folks I knew, I still put in some time with the pliers opening and closing 15-gauge* wire rings.

It was a rather pleasant way to spend time, actually, if you stopped before your hands began to ache. If someone was trying finish a chainmail shirt for an event we would turn into specialists - one or more folks coiling the wire, cutting the links, and opening the links. The actual "knitting" (the term for assembling and closing the links) was left to the person who was ostensibly making the darn thing.

So we'd all sit around and gossip and flirt (there were very, very few Markland activities that did not take place while gossiping and flirting - it's very like theater in some respects) and work on whichever project for a while.

Vastly more interesting than doing anything I was supposed to be doing.

*Want a quick comparison for 15-gauge wire? The plasmaphersis center where I'd swap blood products for lunch money used 15-gauge needles. A real chainmail shirt is heavy.

My Will

I don't remember how it came up, but the other night after seeing Never the Sinner, David, Laura, Lori, Karen, and I had hit the Royal Mile for a some refreshment and fellowship. Yeah, that was it, fellowship. Anyway, I don't remember how the topic of wills came up, but they did and so I mentioned how much I love the way my will begins. I had it drawn up when I was 22 and moved out of Mom's house (and if you are old enough not to live with your parents you are old enough to have a will). Ed, the lawyer who drew it up for me is another history geek and he used the oldest will form that is still valid in the state of Maryland. And he gave me the then-standard Markland discount, so this will is quite possibly the best $25 I ever spent.

A few years ago I re-typed it to make a few updates and every year somewhere near my birthday I check to make sure that it's still current. If I need to change anything it's a pretty simple matter to correct it, reprint it, and take into to work to be witnessed and notarized.

I used to do dramatic readings of the first two paragraphs (the remaining paragraphs are only of interest to me and the poor souls who will inherit three generations of debts and junk), so if you haven't had a chance to hear it read aloud, here is my

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

IN THE NAME OF GOD, AMEN:

I, LETA {}, of Montgomery County, Maryland, being of sound and disposing mind, memory, and understanding, and capable of executing a valid deed or contract, considering the certainty of death and the uncertainty of the time thereof, and being desirous to settle my worldly affairs and thereby be the better prepared to leave the world when it shall please the Almighty to call me hence, do hereby make, publish, and declare this my LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT, hereby revoking and annulling all wills and testamentary dispositions heretofore made by me, in manner and form following, that is to say:

FIRST, and principally, I commit my soul into the hands of Almighty God and my body to be cremated. And my will is that all my just debts and funeral expenses be paid by my Personal Representative as soon after my demise as shall be convenient; the reasonableness of the sum of my burial expenses to be in the discretion of my Personal Representative, hereinafter named, statutory limitation, or the rule of the court notwithstanding.

L my name is Leta

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 24 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

This actually came as a surprise to me. So far in my life (cue that Beatles song) I've met two people with my first name - one was the grandmother I'm named for - and I've heard of a couple of others, like Leta Armstrong, daughter of Heather "Dooce" Armstrong; and some nice lady in Simcoe-York in Ontario. Most Google returns for my name have to do with me, except, thank goodness, the ones that refer to cemetaries.

The "How Many of Me" site says that there are 11,999 people in the U.S. with my first name and that 99.9% of us Letas are female. So if one of y'all could name a child "Leta" it would push the Leta-colony up to 12,000 after which it would only be a matter of time before we hit that Top Ten Names thing that my sister, Sara, was always on and I was never on and maybe, just maybe, one could then find kid's bicycle licence plates and jewelry that said Leta which I never could when I was a kid and when it *mattered* to me NOT THAT I'M BITTER ABOUT THAT!!

When I was in college there were so many guys in Markland named John that they would huddle together and chant about how they were John, they were a colony creature. The Borg always kind of reminded me of the John Colony, come to think of it. But it's really hard to be a colony of one. An Army of one, sure, but a colony of one? You just look like some weirdo chantiing to herself and I get that enough already.

You know the real reason that more people aren't named Leta? It's because if one is named Leta one either has to work with engineers, who don't voluntarily read anything that doesn't have a diagram, or one has to spend one's entire adult life having this conversation:

Them: Leda? Like Leda and the Swan?
Me: No. Not like that at all.

Not to mention all the hours of my life I could have back that I've spent spelling and pronouncing my name to people.

Gakked from Shelly's Cyber Chocolate.

The Lazy Little Blood Donor - part 1

I've been - off and on - a blood donor since college. Markland, the medieval reenactment and good times group I belonged to, would round up folks everytime there was a campus blood drive with loud announcements that the faithful should "Bleed for the Militia!" (Campus groups got some kind of credit, even if it was just shinier halos in the afterlife for participating in pro bono activities). And I'm O Negative, so I'm very popular at blood donation centers. I forget how much I've given but it's somewhere around 3 gallons by now.

I don't do it as often as I should - certainly not the every eight weeks that Stacey does - but I'll certainly participate in the ones that fall into my lap, like the ones that Jill would organize at work. And now Glenn has organized one via the Reston Community Players, so this morning I'm going to finish my coffee, steal the last of David's cranberries to have for a post-bleed snack, and head over to RCP's rehearsal hall to Bleed for Community Theater!

Finally, they listen to me.

We have a new staffer here and at long last the chain of Davids, Johns, Michaels, Pauls, and Richards has been broken. I have insisted for a long time that I really didn't care much about people's qualifications - that's for the folks higher up the food chain to worry about - but that I insist we stop hiring people who have a first name that at least three of our staffers already have. I have literally told Laura (right before I dutifully distributed the interview forms) that David X or Michael Y was probably very nice, but that we cannot hire them.

When I was hired we had 5 Davids, 4 Johns (insert rude jokes about hookers and bathrooms here), 3 Michaels, 4 Pauls, and 4 Richards. Those 5 names made up nearly 25% of the first names in our 83-person office. Sure, we had identifiers - the Richards were broken into Dick, Rich, Rich, and Rick. Oddly enough, both men named Rich are 6'5", so there was never any thought of calling one of them "tall Rich" or something like that. And they're both musicians. They play guitar in the same band. So context - and last names - are really important around here.

Well, anyway.

At the end of May we hired a new staffer. His first name? Attila. Seriously. Attila. He is the first Attila I've met who was actually named that by his parents rather than having chosen it as a Markland name.

(Marklanders - at least when I was in - create a "persona" around whom we base our historical research and whose "life" we interpret for the public. In a group that also seems to have a lot of men named John, Markland names became useful nicknames. Just ask Chort, Hjalti, Buckley, CooperJohn, or any of the dozens of others. Theater is full to burstin' with men named David. But I digress.)

Now that we have an Attila on staff, I'm hoping we'll branch out into others of the less common names. Why hire a Richard when you can employ a Lucifer? Or a Vlad? Or Kermit?

What is Leta humming?

Mousing around on Markland's website (I love the internet), I found the Markland anthem. It's entirely possible that my next several posts will simply be happy (to me, possibly boring to you) Markland memories.

And now, with no further ado - and, sadly, with no beer:

The Markland National Anthem

By: Attila/ Atli Vathason, First Warlord (Bruce Edward Blackistone)

(Sung to the Czarist National Anthem.

If you don't know the tune, listen carefully to the background of the 1812 Overture)

Markland thy slimey sod, forsook by all the gods
Home of the darkest swamps and thickets of thorn!
Lo, how thy mighty rocks they break our plows asunder,
Making us wish we had never been born.

Markland they noble sons, run from the sounds of guns
Faster than jackrabbits and cunning as rats.
They'll gain the victory, annihilate the enemy
When they can sneak up and stab in the back.

Markland thy daughters dear, make Mongols cringe with fear
Comely as great cave bear and stronger than ox.
See them in the field right now, how gracefully they pull the plow
As with their dainty feet they drop kick the rocks.

Repeat ad nauseum.

All worth it

The endless typing, the (alleged) proofreading, being forced to live in my own stream of consciousness ..... all the pain and dispair .... all the stories I've told here that could embarrass friends and loved ones...

I got a comment from Hjalti!!

I have't seen Hjalti in years. And years. We met in college when I started doing Historical Re-enactment with Markland back Before the Black Ships Came. (Best described by Bork - follow the link - thus: We wanted to become rabble from 1066. We wanted to smell like rabble and act like rabble. Actually, we wanted to act like the Marx Brothers acting like rabble.)

My prime Markland years were after the phase out of black Chucks as acceptable Medieval footwear and before the complete rise of the Authenticity Police. I'm a bit of a purist and never went for the fantasy medieval look (like Ann and Nancy Wilson in the 80s), but it was fun to be there during the less serious time.

Hjalti was a Jolms Viking. Yes, I probably misspelled that, but it is pronouced "yalms." The Jolms Vikings were largely interested in Norse history, knew a huge amount about it, and as a group bore a striking resemblance to the Ramones: lots of black leather; lots of long, dark hair; and kind of a smart-ass Goth vibe. And they were really, really smart, sweet guys, too. Hjalti didn't completely fit the Jolms Viking mode because he was big and strong and broad-shouldered and red-haired. He always looked a lot less dissipated than the rest of his cohort. He was, however, a consumate smart ass. And a truly sweet guy.

He joined the Army and moved around the country a lot and we've fallen in and out of touch, largely through Stacey. He's a wonderful guy. I think he was in the Army during Stacey's prom, and (IIRC), he had promised to take her, so he got leave, travelled to Hawaii (where - duh - she was living), got prom-ready, and took her.

Hjalti's married now with kids and I have a wonderful picture of him in his armour in case he'd like to put it somewhere promiment when his daughter starts to date.

And I'm going to see him tonight!!!!!

Yep, all worth it.

Hello, my baby! Hello, my darlin'!

I like nick-names. I've been called by several and I hand them out with great enthusiasm. Some of the names to which I have answered:

Peach. I was born in California and Mom put my playpen out in the sunshine and I got all golden and peachy colored. (Now, of course, decades later, I'm pale and pasty. Oh, well.) I have several books inscribed "To Peach, with love from _______". This nick-name lasted until someone pointed out to Mom that "Peaches" is a common stage name for strippers. Very long sigh.

Hee-top. When my sister, Sara, was learning to speak, she couldn't say Leta. (Nor can many other people. All together now: Lee-dah. Not Let-uh.) So she got as close as she could and my Dad was so charmed by her efforts that he called me Hee-top for the next couple of years. I actually liked Hee-top a lot (but only my Dad gets to call me that). I got off more easily than my nieces, Cheryl and Angela, who at 21 and 18 are still sometimes called Sherbul and An-juh-wuh because that's how Angela said it. Making fun of the way children talk is one of the perks of not being a child any more. "What's your name, little girl"? "An-juh-wuh." "Really? An-juh-wuh?" "No! An-juh-wuh!" Big laffs!

Leta-Bug. Everyone out there have a Mom? Then everyone out there had a silly nick-name. Mom also gave me stuff with Lady Bugs on it. Sara was "Sara-Bear." 'Nuff said.

Leisl of the Revolution. When I was in college I started doing Medieval re-enactment. (Yes! I am one of those geeky people who wandered around the University of Maryland dressed like an extra from The Lord of the Rings.) I have a picture of me in a Bog Dress. Maybe I'll post it. Anyway, after college, I drifted into Revolutionary War re-enactment. So, yes, there are also pictures of me in 18th Century dresses as well. (Actually, I'm kind of an 18th C ideal - pale skin, small waist, generous hips - I would have done very well on Are You Hot 1776. Renoir would have thought I was a total babe, too. But that's not the point.) Right. Okay. So my re-enactor pals, well, Brett mainly, one day started greeting me with "Ach! 'Tis Liesl! Jah, 'tis Liesl of der Revolution." How cool is that? Many re-enactors still call me Liesl. Some may actually believe it is my name.

Let's remember that it is Brett who started telling people that his niece's name is Samantha Jane Ka'aloha Treefrog Squirrelbutt. Two of those names are not actually on her birth certificate, but the adults she knows will call her by those names for the rest of our days.

And when Todd introduced his new girlfriend Kristin to Brett, he said, "This is Kristin, Brett." And Brett said "Kristin Brett. What in interesting name." I heard about it and introduced her to Mila. "This is Kristin Brett, Mila." Soon her name took up three typewritten lines. That was, like, 10 years ago. And we still call her KB instead of Kristin. Well, Todd calls her Kristin but he's her husband now, so he probably has to.

I generally call people "Sweetheart," and "Honey," and "Dear" so that I don't accidentally call them by the name of their, oh, I dunno, current boyfriend's ex-wife or something. Except at work, of course. Work people look at me funny when I call them "Sweetie."

I call David "David." (Or Sweetie. Or Honey. Or Darlin'.) I don't call him Dave, which is probably why he likes me so much. I also call him "Major Pedantic." He used to be "Captain Pedantic," but he got promoted when it was noticed that everyone in my "army" is a Captain. There's Captain Intensity and Captain Corrosive and a few others.

Lee. Steve called me Lee. So did his Dad. I like Steve and his Dad, so I like being call "Lee" by them.

And so on. I have other nick-names, but I'm not putting them here. I mean, come on, I released "Leta-Bug" to the entire internet, that's probably crazy enough.