Sunday, February 28, 2010

Muumuu: A Love Story

Thanks be to Wikipedia for the spelling, background, and pop cultural reference list.
Muumuu, I know you...intimately. Of Hawaiian descent, I know you are ancient. I know you are embraced by the pregnant and the obese because you "do not restrict the waist." I know that you are regularly sold in thrift stores and Family Dollar. I know you are my go-to while I vacuum, do the laundry, and eat salt and vinegar chips while watching Teen Mom. I know that with you, I will feel a draft.
I know that you have formed belligerent relationship with my husband BUT HE WILL NOT COME BETWEEN US, MUUMUU. Because you are my rock. You take me as I am, whether 115 lbs or 150 lbs. You, muumuu, take me as I am. And for this, I love you.

Friday, February 26, 2010

The Treachery of Images

This is not a pipe.

This is not a model.

This is not even an image.
(I think Magritte would agree.)

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Band: My Testimony

Last night I had a dream that I was in marching band and my current relief society president (Hey, Emily! Hi!) played the alto sax. She had this sweet solo in the middle of I'll Make Love to You and played it so soulfully that everyone stopped playing football to listen.

I'm sure I had that dream because just last night, Sloan was mocking me for having been in band in high school (this, he will deny to himself upon reading). Even as self conscious as I/everyone was in high school, band wasn't incredibly embarrassing at Houston High like it is in the movies. I was lucky to live in a place where it wasn't an automatic loser stamp to the forehead to be in band, it only moderately worked against your social standing. And if I didn't actually live in a place where that was the case, I was lucky enough not to realize it. My high school experience was a fabulous one, and honestly, I owe that mostly to band. Thanks, band! *high five*

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Damage Control

My man was merciful and allowed me to purchase a new hutch to replace ye olde unceremoniously divided bookcase.I find my style being too country-bumpkin, but I'm not creative/wealthy enough to even imitate the amazing style of anthro/urban/west end designers. How does one acquire that?

Chinchillas

Sloan and I went pet store-surfing yesterday to look at/play with the adoption puppies. I must say, I'm hard pressed to name anything more heart warming than a good puppy cuddle.
Along with the puppies, we looked at other cuddlies and slimies at the stores. After careful study and observation, the following universal truths were determined:
1. Tarantulas are evil. Evil and creepy.
2. Guinea pigs are overrated.
3. Puppies!!!!!!
4. A parrot costs as much as our monthly rent.
5. Chinchillas are the new black.
Chinchillas have spiked in popularity recently. It makes sense, because they are not only ADORABLE, but a quick internet search shows that they have rather varied and rewarding social talents.

Chinchillas are known for their propriety and decorum. High society is the nucleus around which chinchilla social norms revolve.

Outdoor activities are a big part of the chinchilla lifestyle. Mountaineering (seen here) is seen as the premier chinchilla sport.

Birthdays are special events in a chinchilla's life, not unlike humans. They typically throw their over-the-hill parties around age 9.

Musicians are especially revered in the chinchilla world due to their rarity. Hardly any can actually play instruments due to their lack of opposable thumbs.

Celebrating cultural heritage, though fading as the current generation globally assimilates, is still an important chinchilla tradition.

I would love to some day have one of these intriguing and mind-meltingly adorable creatures as my pet! They seem to have so much to teach me.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Palz

These are some of the people Sloan and I hang out with. They're alright.

Kira, my little enchilada. Jeff, lord of the giggles.

Robert and Brady. Megan, too, but she eats healthy.

Tom. The lonely genius.

Joe, or Squints. Emily, here, is somber like her brother (see above).

Kara, the exception to that rule that all Texans are soul-crushingly obnoxious.

Paul and Jen, the couple that looks a decade younger than they really are.

Kelsy, part human, part chair-bot.

Russell, resident shock jock, and Holly, my girl-crush.

CAN WE BUILT IT? No. Part II

Aftermath:
Please note the balance-enforcing dishtowel in the bottom left corner. Also, that's not sawdust at the top...it's from where I repeatedly scratched the shelf with the side of the saw as I furiously worked. Annnnd, as you can tell from the backing...I just sort of gave up and started tearing. I AM SUCH AN IDIOT.

Also, another thing to add to Julia's List of Things That Just Are Not Impressing Anyone is the fact that I have had our camera set to manual for, oh, the PAST SIX MONTHS. No wonder the pictures have been so terrible. AN IDIOT.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

CAN WE BUILD IT? No.

Julia: Where's the hand saw?
Sloan: reading a book Um, no way.
Julia: BABAY I've been thinking about it and I want to saw the book case in half and stack the two halves next to each other.
Sloan: Nope. It won't happen.
Julia: Yes. It will happen. Where is the saw?
Sloan: I'm not telling you because I don't support this. We JUST bought that bookcase and it looks fine.
Julia: digging through his tool box AHA! Found it.
Sloan: You don't understand. Even if you have the strength to do it, it's not going to be straight. Sawing isn't as easy as it is in cartoons.
Julia: goes into the other room and saws. and saws. for like an hour. then stacks the two halves next to each other with a dishtowel shoved under the corner of one. which also has two broken shelves now.
Sloan: walks in BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Julia: sheepish and sweaty Are you mad? Are you insane with anger?
Sloan: This looks worse than what I was picturing. HEY I HAVE AN IDEA! Let's saw the tv in half! It would be innovative and stylish!
Julia: I get it. I'm an idiot.
Sloan: Ooooh, or we could saw the jeep in half and have TWO CARS!!
Julia: walks away...and another shelf falls out of the bookcase

Easter Bunnies

They freak me out.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

coughcoughcoughcough

Ever since I got home from Alabama, I've been sick. Dunno what it is, but it sucks. Sloan has faithfully been playing nurse; even giving me warm milk during my coughing fits that wake him up every hour. And he's been more than willing to join me in my rigorous napping schedule since I can't sleep through the night. Selfless.
He's a fine man, that Sloan Rehder. And since I've been ill, I've logged even MORE tender hours with my sweetheart. Would you like to hear more?

The Scene: In the car.
Sloan: says something totally freaky
Julia: What?! You're insane! LISTEN TO YOURSELF!
Sloan: Oh, I am listening. And I'm LIKING what I'm hearing! Because this is real life!
Julia: in a stunned silence
Sloan: That's right babaaay! Real life! Woo! I feel ALIVE!

The Scene: At our favorite Indian restaurant, waiting for a table.
Sloan: whispers That guy over there is watching you.
Julia: Where? Behind me?
Sloan: Yeah. Don't look right now. I'll tell you when.
Julia: Okay...
Sloan: K! Hurry! Look!
Julia: clandestinely turns my head to see no one there but a MONKEY painted on the wall which appears to be looking at me
He's fun, ain't he?? Welp, here are some pictures.
Sloan trying to make the most unsettling face he can after ruining four previous photos with various other faces.
Sloan's strategic pillow placement at the beginning of our ill-fated photo shoot.

AND A HAPPY ANNA HOWARD SHAW DAY TO US ALL

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A Failure of the Mind

Last night as I was falling asleep, I was kind of turning images over in my head, a habit I picked up while working toward (but not getting) my master's in poetry. Sometimes, the images are pretty cool. SO COOL, in fact, that I think that I should write them down the next morning. Most of them turn out to suck, but at least they're pretty coherent. I think I was a little too close to falling into my dream state last night, because these are the words I wrote down to remember this apparently AWESOME poem I was going to pen:
Jesus
broken sea glass
cheese wheels
Don Quixote
white roses

reindeer
Seriously, white roses? That's just stupid.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Is Julia Here?

If my doorbell would to ring today, I'd want to open the door to...
Kenneth from 30 Rock to be my life coach.
A Shar Pei puppeh to sit, aloof and wrinkly, at my feet.
Anthropologie's jewelry and rug collections for me to wear/put in my house/caress/cuddle with and tell all of my dreams to.


Tony Hoagland (and the friends he puts in his poems) to drink wine and tell me how dry of a state Utah is.
Mt. Timpanogos to help me identify northeast.
Guy Davis to ask for a drink of water and let me use his handkerchief.
Ranunculus to wilt too quickly to be worth a ***.
The Swedish Chef to shake and flop and not have any eyes.

Monday, February 8, 2010

BABAYS!

I visited Alabama and Tennessee this weekend and it was lovely. LOVELY I tell ya! I got to dance and hold babies and get rained on. More to come.
But I MUST say, when Sarah (sister in law) told me that Sam (4 year old nephew) was adorably clueless, I didn't understand the extent to which this was true.
The Scene: In the minivan driving to Knoxville with Richard (brother), Sarah, Hannah (tall niece), Sam, and Joshie (fat and jovial baby nephew). I'm in middle with the baby and the kids are in the very back.
Sarah: (from the front seat) Sam, are you done with your Lunchable?
Sam: (from the very back) Yeah. I'm full, but I didn't eat it all.
Sarah: Okay. Give me your trash.
Sam: (stares blankly, looks around)
Sarah: You're holding it in your right hand.
Sam: (looks at left hand)
Sarah: Other hand!
Sam: (finally sees it) But I didn't eat it all.
Sarah: I know. Do you want to save it for later? You can only save the crackers for later.
Sam: (furrowed brow) I only didn't eat the cheese.
Sarah: Okay, then give it to me.
Sam: (blank stare) But I didn't eat it.
Sarah: But you aren't going to eat the cheese and it will go bad before you WANT to eat it, so give me your trash!
Sam: (perplexed, pulls the cheese out of the empty Lunchable and passes it forward)
Sarah: All of it! Give me all of it!
Sam: (confused, looks around for the Lunchable)
Sarah: IT'S IN YOUR HAND.
Sam: (looks at empty left hand)
Julia: (reaches back and takes it from his hand and passes it forward) I guess I should have just done that like ten minutes ago.
Sam:Heeeeeeeeey! I didn't eat it all! But I'm full!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Whoa. Deep.

Sometimes when I am deciding what to write on the blog, I make a list, which I think is what our 3rd grade teachers taught us to do. Brainstorming.
My list usually consists of five terrible ideas and one sort-of-terrible-but-maybe-workable idea. Sometimes it is just six terrible ideas.
Anyway. I can't completely flesh out any of my topics this time, and since I've hit a snag, I'll just set up camp right here.
These are the topics I have written for today:
- I love my family. My family loves God. So, I'll keep working on it.
- I keep falling down/up stairs, but almost never in front of anyone, so I'll just consider it GOOD luck? Or something.
- Winter this year hasn't felt as dreadful as years past. And by "less dreadful" I mean, "not as much like the living hell that it usually is, but more of a rudely-leaning purgatory."
- I really, really love my job, even if I am by FAR the dumbest one there...and have the worst eating habits.
- Being married feels normal. Being single feels normal. When do things feel strange? Children?
- I know a lot of people who are so ready to vocalize their feelings about their spouses to others. They say lovely and tender things, and I find no offense in that practice. The more I live with Sloan, however, and the more we end up working together to live our lives, the more I want to privately feel my feelings. It's a tendency I had never felt before; to be alone when I consider the love I have for another person. I feel like I collect my feelings like scrap metal. I pick them out one piece at a time, and store them (in me somewhere....I guess). And introspection is turning out to be an ideal place for me to melt and twist and clip my love into something sleek, refined (and hopefully sturdy) for only Sloan to see.
Does this even make sense? What does it mean, do you suppose?