My mom called in a tizzy one day. Folks at home didn't know what to do about my name. I remembered recording the gifts my brother and sister-in-law received because I made many snide comments about each gift having been monogrammed. Apparently karma was about to hit because my mom needed to know what initials we'd have, since his last name is a double last name.
Tradition is to have one letter, because tradition is to have one last name, as the center of the first and middle name initials. So I then had to have a discussion with my future husband. Do we cut out your mom's last name or your dad's last name for the sake of our monogram?
We voted and I added a note to our website. But I guess folks thought since we were progressive enough to legally keep both his parent's last names as our name, they then had questions about my middle name.
Will I keep my middle name? Or will my maiden name become my middle name?
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Ride Stops Here Reality TV
Reality stars I fear your light is fading. You all have the same drama, the same tears, the same arrogance, and the same metaphor. "Oh what a ride this is," "It's just been a roller coaster of emotions," "It's a constant up and down ride." In the South, we're known for colloquialisms that no one ever really uses. Here are some ideas to express the tumult you experience during these tragic, overexpensed free rides to fame you get.
1) I felt like a frog romping blindly in the pond. Some days there's a lilly pad waiting for me, some days there's not.
2) It's like being a bullet zipping through the open landscape of the plantation until you run smack dab into a willow tree.
3) It's like having a mason jar full of rich molasses. You don't know when it will be savory or when it will stick you and hold you down.
4) I never imagined I'd feel like any day someone could pull a wood slat out from under my bed frame.
5) It was like being tea sat out on the front porch under the sweltering sun until I was pulled in and sweetened.
6) It was like being a crawdad resting lazily in a stream. You never knew whether you'd be free or have your brains sucked out when some kid lifted the rock.
7) This experience was as altering as the hemline on Blanche Devereaux's skirts.
1) I felt like a frog romping blindly in the pond. Some days there's a lilly pad waiting for me, some days there's not.
2) It's like being a bullet zipping through the open landscape of the plantation until you run smack dab into a willow tree.
3) It's like having a mason jar full of rich molasses. You don't know when it will be savory or when it will stick you and hold you down.
4) I never imagined I'd feel like any day someone could pull a wood slat out from under my bed frame.
5) It was like being tea sat out on the front porch under the sweltering sun until I was pulled in and sweetened.
6) It was like being a crawdad resting lazily in a stream. You never knew whether you'd be free or have your brains sucked out when some kid lifted the rock.
7) This experience was as altering as the hemline on Blanche Devereaux's skirts.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
A More Inconvenient Truth: Celebrities are the Biggest Polluters
Every time I shower I want to punch Cameron Diaz. "Ladies you can help save the environment by turning the water off while you shave your legs." Really Cameron, I should take a shower without water? Okay maybe it was Renee or Penelope or...who cares?
Celebrities who own and energize houses with square footage of small countries, lapping in the luxury of their lake size swimming pools that require more water and energy than Baltimore uses in a year, need to shut their Botox enhanced faces. The small pleasure peons like me can have in life is running water for the ten minutes we have to shower before heading off to our thankless, payless, and real jobs.
By the way Al Gore, I hear you use 20% more energy than the average American. Thanks for making America cry over seeing polar bears treading water because their glacier homes are melting. Thanks for turning your environmental profit into a materialistic surplus for your burgeoning waistline.
I'm going to shave my legs now, maybe for fifteen minutes this time.
Celebrities who own and energize houses with square footage of small countries, lapping in the luxury of their lake size swimming pools that require more water and energy than Baltimore uses in a year, need to shut their Botox enhanced faces. The small pleasure peons like me can have in life is running water for the ten minutes we have to shower before heading off to our thankless, payless, and real jobs.
By the way Al Gore, I hear you use 20% more energy than the average American. Thanks for making America cry over seeing polar bears treading water because their glacier homes are melting. Thanks for turning your environmental profit into a materialistic surplus for your burgeoning waistline.
I'm going to shave my legs now, maybe for fifteen minutes this time.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Purity
I started out at a private college in Nashville, TN. Almost two hours from home, my grandfather still knew the families of friends I made there. One of these friends--I'll call her Ruth--happened to be the daughter of the Purity Dairies business, makers of my favorite brand of ice cream growing up.
This private college was also very religious. I had six credits of Bible after the first semester. For spring break that year Ruth, myself, and some other friends, all with two first names of course, drove to Panama City Beach, FL.
Ruth drove since she had the largest SUV. One night while we drove, or stalled along the strip, some guys leaned into the open windows. Apparently they wanted a "look at all the virgins." How'd they know we were pure and innocent?
Clearly Purity Dairies wasn't as popular that far South. Ruth's license plate--PURITY--was taken for an advertisement of chastity instead of milk.
This private college was also very religious. I had six credits of Bible after the first semester. For spring break that year Ruth, myself, and some other friends, all with two first names of course, drove to Panama City Beach, FL.
Ruth drove since she had the largest SUV. One night while we drove, or stalled along the strip, some guys leaned into the open windows. Apparently they wanted a "look at all the virgins." How'd they know we were pure and innocent?
Clearly Purity Dairies wasn't as popular that far South. Ruth's license plate--PURITY--was taken for an advertisement of chastity instead of milk.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Necks
Thank you Nora Ephron for saving me from wasting my neck away. I never realized the youth and beauty in a neck until you described the effects of aging on this seemingly ambivalent region.
Because of your latest book and advice, I've opted for V-necks and bateau necks. I'm even delving into strapless sweetheart necks.
My turtlenecks, cowl and mock, are now on sabbatical in the attic. I promise not to invite them back until my neck is the proper age for concealing.
Because of your latest book and advice, I've opted for V-necks and bateau necks. I'm even delving into strapless sweetheart necks.
My turtlenecks, cowl and mock, are now on sabbatical in the attic. I promise not to invite them back until my neck is the proper age for concealing.
Monday, May 19, 2008
They Ain't Just Crossing Guards
I still have a hard time calling Stewardesses, "Flight Attendants" and Librarians, "Media Specialists." I was just getting used to calling Crossing Guards, "Traffic Officers" when I saw a new title.
Stopped at the green light as the Orioles fans, mostly Red Sox fans, crossed the walk, I fixated on the fluorescent lime green vests of the traffic officers. Two of the three wore vests stating they were officers. But one of them was clearly in charge. His vest identified him as the "Traffic Sergeant".
True to form of all superior ranking officers, Sarge was leaning against the fence yapping on the phone instead of helping control the flow of traffic. He should be promoted to Traffic Captain for his leadership.
Stopped at the green light as the Orioles fans, mostly Red Sox fans, crossed the walk, I fixated on the fluorescent lime green vests of the traffic officers. Two of the three wore vests stating they were officers. But one of them was clearly in charge. His vest identified him as the "Traffic Sergeant".
True to form of all superior ranking officers, Sarge was leaning against the fence yapping on the phone instead of helping control the flow of traffic. He should be promoted to Traffic Captain for his leadership.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Cookies and Milk, No Cigs
My favorite homeless man does smoke. Because of my fiance's job, we now have four cartons of cigarettes. As grateful for the Baltimore smoking ban as I thought I'd be, it's harder to find smokers who'd maybe buy these cartons. And my quarterly conscience has kicked in. I try to get all the wicked out of me before this happens, but goodness and mercy came early this year. So I've:
Replaced my cigarettes gift to the homeless with 2% milk,
Donated to the Alzheimer's Association in memory of Granny, who we're
almost positive had a stroke and not Alzheimer's,
Given money to an animal shelter that finds homes for old, rejected pets
because we've borrowed our neighbor's old cat instead of adopting
one that didn't already have a perfectly good home, and
Decided not to hock the cigarettes on the black market even though they
could single-handedly pay for the DJ at my wedding.
Replaced my cigarettes gift to the homeless with 2% milk,
Donated to the Alzheimer's Association in memory of Granny, who we're
almost positive had a stroke and not Alzheimer's,
Given money to an animal shelter that finds homes for old, rejected pets
because we've borrowed our neighbor's old cat instead of adopting
one that didn't already have a perfectly good home, and
Decided not to hock the cigarettes on the black market even though they
could single-handedly pay for the DJ at my wedding.
Friday, April 25, 2008
The City Burbs
I love my neighbors. (This is not sarcasm) It's the best neighborhood. But it wouldn't be a neighborhood without some petty your tree's on my property argument. Apparently it's my fault a neighbor got a ticket on his car. Why you ask? Because I'm not parking directly in front of my house, on our side of the street.
I guess the parking authorities noticed my car one house down before they noticed his vehicle had been parked in the same spot (unmoved) for at least ten months. And, oh, the expired tags.
Sorry buddy, I love you, but this shit happens. Just read my blogs about my experiences with tickets.
I guess the parking authorities noticed my car one house down before they noticed his vehicle had been parked in the same spot (unmoved) for at least ten months. And, oh, the expired tags.
Sorry buddy, I love you, but this shit happens. Just read my blogs about my experiences with tickets.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Frankenstein is not the Monster
When my students learn that I'm from Kentucky they laugh. Who wouldn't? Hey, I do. Just pronouncing the word is like pushing your tongue through cooling sorghum. But my students laugh because they are from just outside of Baltimore. And just outside D.C. Because of their cool location in, oh, Glen Burnie, they like to brag that they "roll hard" and all their friends "roll hard." And this prime location makes them ipso facto more stylish and more intelligent.
For this blog, I'll leave the style factor alone. Too many images of teenage butt cracks and cleavage disturb my mind and churn my stomach. To digress--some teachers, you know who you are, seriously--this is attractive? The exposed underwear alone is about to make me quit.
Back to Glen Burnie students' superior intelligence over my hometown in Kentucky. As I teach in rhetoric, sometimes one example is enough to prove a point. Being my third year to teach Frankenstein, I know now that I have to begin by telling my students the following:
1-Frankenstein the movie came after the book
2-Movies are creative adaptations of prior books
3-Yes, Mary Shelley was a girl
4-No, it won't be gay because a girl wrote it
5-Frankenstein is the scientist, NOT the monster
I repeat number 5 multiple times in a day because these teenagers have Alzheimer's.
Of the 20 something chapters and the beginning letters, we are currently half way through. Thank God because that means the school year's almost over. In preparation for the quiz over this half, I reviewed Frankenstein's reasons for having a heavy conscience. A hand popped up, very eager to answer.
"Like he's guilty (the word conscience is too much) idn't he because he's killin all those people to get at Victor."
"Honey, we've been over this. Do you have a first name? And do you have a last name? Yes, good. So does Victor, the scientist, aka Frankenstein."
"Huh?" (She wasn't the only one in room with that fried look)
Someone else ventures, "So you're saying Frankenstein is not the monster?"
"Yes. The monster is the monster. Victor Frankenstein is his creator." I'm so exasperated that I'm contemplating walking out and collecting government assistance for awhile.
Then I wait for it, it happens every year during this book. The collective "ahs" in the room as if we'd been talking about existentialism for a month and not merely figuring out a main character's name.
For this blog, I'll leave the style factor alone. Too many images of teenage butt cracks and cleavage disturb my mind and churn my stomach. To digress--some teachers, you know who you are, seriously--this is attractive? The exposed underwear alone is about to make me quit.
Back to Glen Burnie students' superior intelligence over my hometown in Kentucky. As I teach in rhetoric, sometimes one example is enough to prove a point. Being my third year to teach Frankenstein, I know now that I have to begin by telling my students the following:
1-Frankenstein the movie came after the book
2-Movies are creative adaptations of prior books
3-Yes, Mary Shelley was a girl
4-No, it won't be gay because a girl wrote it
5-Frankenstein is the scientist, NOT the monster
I repeat number 5 multiple times in a day because these teenagers have Alzheimer's.
Of the 20 something chapters and the beginning letters, we are currently half way through. Thank God because that means the school year's almost over. In preparation for the quiz over this half, I reviewed Frankenstein's reasons for having a heavy conscience. A hand popped up, very eager to answer.
"Like he's guilty (the word conscience is too much) idn't he because he's killin all those people to get at Victor."
"Honey, we've been over this. Do you have a first name? And do you have a last name? Yes, good. So does Victor, the scientist, aka Frankenstein."
"Huh?" (She wasn't the only one in room with that fried look)
Someone else ventures, "So you're saying Frankenstein is not the monster?"
"Yes. The monster is the monster. Victor Frankenstein is his creator." I'm so exasperated that I'm contemplating walking out and collecting government assistance for awhile.
Then I wait for it, it happens every year during this book. The collective "ahs" in the room as if we'd been talking about existentialism for a month and not merely figuring out a main character's name.
Shameless Plug--Freshly Squeezed Now on Sale
The Write Here Write Now Anthology is out. For those of you who did not attend the CityLit Festival and receive your discounted copy, you MUST come to the release party on May 28, 7:30 pm at the Creative Alliance.
Buy your copy at the release party or in advance from the link I've provided. See how much of the intensive labor I've already done for you. Now show your gratitude by buying a copy.
If you're good, I'll sign your copy.
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Freshly-Squeezed/Christine-Stewart/e/9781934074329/?itm=4
Buy your copy at the release party or in advance from the link I've provided. See how much of the intensive labor I've already done for you. Now show your gratitude by buying a copy.
If you're good, I'll sign your copy.
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Freshly-Squeezed/Christine-Stewart/e/9781934074329/?itm=4
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Baltimore CityLit Festival--I'm Reading
This is not a brag post. But after twenty rejection letters from literary magazines and a subsequent lack of desire to continue writing, I need to give my horn a little toot-toot.
A group of fabulous writers with the Write Here Write Now (WHWN)workshops are published in the upcoming first annual Baltimore CityLit Anthology. One of my nonfiction essays is published in this great collection. (It helped that I was in the workshops and answered the call for submissions to get published)
On April 19 the CityLit Project hosts a celebration of literature at the Enoch Pratt Library in Mt. Vernon. Readings from the anthology start at 3:30. I'm somewhere in the relatively short lineup.
On May 28 at 7:30 there will be a release party at the Creative Alliance. Be there. Buy a copy. Tell a friend that I'm a decent writer and to give me a chance.
A group of fabulous writers with the Write Here Write Now (WHWN)workshops are published in the upcoming first annual Baltimore CityLit Anthology. One of my nonfiction essays is published in this great collection. (It helped that I was in the workshops and answered the call for submissions to get published)
On April 19 the CityLit Project hosts a celebration of literature at the Enoch Pratt Library in Mt. Vernon. Readings from the anthology start at 3:30. I'm somewhere in the relatively short lineup.
On May 28 at 7:30 there will be a release party at the Creative Alliance. Be there. Buy a copy. Tell a friend that I'm a decent writer and to give me a chance.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
The Cigarette and Cookie March
We don't smoke (a shame). We have a new carton of cigarettes (unnecessary story). We like to bake cookies and only eat a few. What to do with the superfluous cigarettes and cookies? Walk the entire city limits and give to the homeless. I've yet to be spit on in this mission. But I'm avoiding the corner where the crone who hocked a lugie on me and called me an "evil white whore" hangs out.
I'll keep you posted.
I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I'm not in jail and my car's not impounded
My tags expired in January. Of 2007. This was brought to my attention in March, 2007, when Baltimore Parking Authority gave me a citation. Then another. And another. Still another. I've already written about the process of outstanding tickets without the possibility of tag renewal, so I won't frustrate us again with that.
So I thought I'd paid all of my tickets. Apparently I had overlooked one that, with interest, now totaled $789.13. If I didn't get to the court house to pay, I'd be booted. Now I've been booted before (I am a good person, and smart; just really simple minded about the big city) and that was not fun, I missed my flight home to KY.
I was pulled over on 83 for expired tags. Bad cop wanted to lock me up. "You know I could arrest you right now, repossess your car and auction it off, and see that your future insurance rates are tripled."
This is not the way we handle matters in Paducah. First off, I know everyone. Second, even if I didn't, his aunt so-and-so would have babysat my second cousin once.
Fortunately there was a good cop. He stepped to my window and sidechecked bad cop out. "This is what is supposed to happen, but I'm guessing you've made an innocent mistake."
Yeah, innocent mistake coupled with this city's back asswards system.
To be continued...
So I thought I'd paid all of my tickets. Apparently I had overlooked one that, with interest, now totaled $789.13. If I didn't get to the court house to pay, I'd be booted. Now I've been booted before (I am a good person, and smart; just really simple minded about the big city) and that was not fun, I missed my flight home to KY.
I was pulled over on 83 for expired tags. Bad cop wanted to lock me up. "You know I could arrest you right now, repossess your car and auction it off, and see that your future insurance rates are tripled."
This is not the way we handle matters in Paducah. First off, I know everyone. Second, even if I didn't, his aunt so-and-so would have babysat my second cousin once.
Fortunately there was a good cop. He stepped to my window and sidechecked bad cop out. "This is what is supposed to happen, but I'm guessing you've made an innocent mistake."
Yeah, innocent mistake coupled with this city's back asswards system.
To be continued...
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