It turns out that my friend Army Girl does not actually LIKE being called Army Girl. You would think my friend HaC would be the whiner, seeing as how her nickname sounds like phlegm being cleared from the back of your throat, but no.
Normally I would just ignore Army Girl and her random complaints, but here's the thing. She is RIGHT NOW AS WE SPEAK making me the most beautiful (and slutty! and shiny! two of my favorite things!) Ren Fest costume that has ever been wrought upon this Earth. So I guess I owe her one. Or two. Or a thousand.
Because, basically, she ROCKS. She's making my costume and our friends' Girl Jess, George, and DME costumes, PLUS her own costume. And she's doing this right after quitting her company (and yes, it was her company that she created) that made Highland dancewear. Which entailed sewing night and day, for people who didn't love or respect her. Bastards.
So if she wants name change, she gets one. Dammit. And, the new one we picked out (okay, I picked out) is a real humdinger! And it's based on her... huge tracts of land.
Drum roll please... I dub thee, Chesty Larue. Which just makes me so happy.