Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Captain Appletop

What do you get when you put these two things together?
A recorder
A Sloan
You get Captain Appletop, a saucy British detective who punctuates his sentences with the trills of a plastic wind instrument.

Sloan: Where's the remote?
Julia: *shrug* I haven't seen it for a couple of days. I actually thought you would know.
Sloan: Hmmm, nope. I havent seen it either. *sigh* *leaves room* *returns wearing old baseball cap and playing recorder* This sounds like a case for....Cap'n Appletop! *tootle toot toot*
Julia: Oh no. Don't star--
Sloan: No time for idle chatter, ladybird! There are crimes to be solved! Now, the most important question in finding this remote is: Why would you ever want to hide it from me in the first place?
Julia: *sigh*
Sloan: I mean, truly, you mustn't have thought I'd simply throw up my hands and resign myself to never finding it again after missing it for only a couple of days! *throws head back* HA! PREPOSTEROUS! *toot tootle toot*
Julia: Stop playing the recorder.
Sloan: *sideways glance*
Julia: *threatening glare*
Sloan: *slowly brings recorder to mouth*
Julia: *meaner glare*
Sloan: *toot*
Julia: That's it. I'm leaving you. And taking Ward with me.
Sloan: Who?
Julia: Ward. Your son.
Sloan: *furrowed brow* *taps temple* Ward Ward Ward? Oh! *snaps finger* You mean Private Bananabottom, my trusted assistant? I'm afraid he's useless without me.
Julia: Just sto-
Sloan: *tootle tootle toooooooooot*
Julia: I'm trying to talk to--
Sloan: *toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooot* Now, it seems like someone here is a little hostile. Perhaps she's realizing her evil plans are falling apart?! *toot toot tootootoot*
Julia: I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE REMOTE IS.
Sloan: Fine, I don't need your cooperation....just know that this isn't even close to being over, dear. *scowl* *toooootle toot*

I tried to surreptitiously record him with my phone, but like the stellar inspector that he is, the Captain figured it out before I got anything good.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

This Thanksgiving, Sloan (27), Mikyn (21), Ward (0.3), and I (25) went to Logan to visit with Sloan's cousin Ryanne and her family. She has three kids who are so cute and so hilarious. We love them and they love...Sloan. Pretty sure they still don't know mine or Mikyn's names. Anyway.

The kids like "doing hair," so they sat Mikyn down to comb hers. A little background: Mikyn's hair is naturally blond and it's long. It's very pretty...and it had better be, because Mikyn's hair is her identity (Actual quote: "I'm really nervous about having a baby someday, because what if it's, like, ugly and has brown hair?")

WE GET IT MIKYN. GEEZ.
 ANYWAY, after combing Mikyn's hair with an actual comb (not a brush) and styling it and restyling it and caressing it like a unicorn's tail, the kids thought it'd be fun to play with my hair.

Wrong.

My hair is thick, and in the bottom layers it has this bizarre waviness that is impervious to modern hair-flattening weaponry. It's nappy hair that is not easy to brush, let alone comb. In fact, I don't think I've ever gotten a comb through it from root to end. Some quotes:
  • Do you ever brush you hair? Because *grunt* this is pretty hard!
  • If I just...*grunt* pull it...harder...THERE! Got it!
  • *sigh* You know you really should brush your hair more often. (Eh...good point)

Things didn't get any more emotionally encouraging for me after GENIUS Sloan asked Ryanne's two-year-old girl, "Who's prettier? Mikyn or Julia?" and she thought for a second before pointing to Mikyn and whispering, "That girl."

Awesome.

Needless to say, for the remainder of the night I just stayed in the kitchen eating the last third of the cheesecake with my hands and pretending there was something in my eye.

On the way home:
Julia: *sigh*
Sloan: Baby, she only said that Mikyn was prettier because Mikyn was sitting a lot closer. You were across the room. She's not prettier than you!
Mikyn: Uh, hello? I'm in the car.
Julia and Sloan: Shut up, Mikyn.
Julia: You're Mikyn's brother, so of course you can't think she's pretty. That'd be weird!
Mikyn: Hey! I tell people that my brothers are good-looking all of the time!
Julia and Sloan: Shut UP, Mikyn!
Sloan: Julia, she's two! Two-year-olds don't even know what pretty is! She just pointed at the first person she saw! You're prettier!
Mikyn: Come on, guys! I can hear you!
Julia and Sloan: Shut up, Mikyn!
Julia: Little kids are the most honest critics! A two-year-old will tell you what everyone else is thinking but not saying! Everyone knows that! That's why it's so awkward when they answer serious questions!
Mikyn: We're just both pretty, Julia.
Julia and Sloan: Shut up, Mikyn!! 
Julia to Sloan: *whispering* Ugh, she's the worst, amIright?
Sloan: *nods*

Note: I will delete all comments under this post that don't at least specifically say I'm pretty and Mikyn's ugly.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Spoiler Alert

My having an English degree essentially means that over the course of four years, I paid an institution to tell me to read approximately 300 books and then write 300 essays...terrible, terrible essays. Awful essays. I wrote like an orangutan. But my professors always added such encouraging comments: "Nailed it! You are correct in stating that Boo Radley lacked sufficient social skills, Julia! I am so glad that those three years I spent in Namibia as a graduate student translating Emily Dickinson into Afrikaans have enabled me to land this sweet job as your Eng101 adjunct professor! By the way, I had to eat bugs! In Namibia!"

^ That was the long and not-as-humorous-as-I-had-hoped way of saying this: I've read a lot of books. Good books, bad books, worse books, book books, Garfield books, books titled How to Avoid Huge Ships. But I've never read Harry Potter. Why not? Let me break it down for you:

 Julia's Reasons to Read Harry Potter 
 Julia's Reasons Not to Read Harry Potter 
  • Critical acclaim
  • Massive and diverse fan base
  • Easily accessible
  • ...not like I'm doing anything else 
  • It's 18,000 pages long

So there's that.

BUT did you know that each book has a movie??? Check AND mate!!

And I just watched all of them.

Sloan has patiently explained things to me along the way (he has read the books), which has meant mostly just reminding me over and over that Tom Riddle and Voldemort are the same person (it surprises me every time!!) Last week, we watched the final movie, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II. I took it a little hard.

Sloan: You need to get out of the tub now. It's been an hour and a half. The water is cold.
Julia: *head in hands* *sniff*
Sloan: I know you are just so sad about Snape.
Julia: *sinks under water*
Sloan: But Harry named his son after him! He finally understood the sacrifices that were made for him!
Julia: *gets out of tub* *flops on bed*
Sloan: *brings in towel* And you're right, it would've been nice if Lilly had loved him back, but things don't always work out that way.
Julia: *head in pillow* HE HELD HER LIFELESS BODY AND WAS JUST SO SAD AND THEN HE HAD TO WATCH AFTER THE BOY THAT SHE HAD WITH ANOTHER MAN AND THE BOY JUST HATED HIM BECAUSE HE DIDN'T KNOW THAT HE WAS A DOUBLE AGENT HELPING HIM AND HE CRIED WHEN HE DIED THE SNAKE BIT HIM SO MANY TIMES NO ONE LOVED HIM BUT I WOULD HAVE IF I HAD BEEN THERE I WOULD HAVE SEEN THE REAL SNAPE.
Sloan: But you wouldn't have--just...go to sleep.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

My Advice to Young Women

Please read my list titled: Things Women Should Stop Doing Because It's the Twenty-first Century and When People Say Things Like "Because It's the Twenty-first Century" It's Supposed to Explain Why They are Saying Whatever They are Saying


Admiring Marilyn Monroe - When my elementary school teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I didn't answer "I wanna be pretty!" because, while that was true, I was smart enough to know that I should be embarrassed to give such a shallow answer, even as a little kid. (And besides TRASH MAN BECAUSE HELLO HANGING ON TO THE BACK OF A TRUCK.)
Asking Dr. Oz how to lose weight - Dr. Oz episodes are a zero sum game, meaning: for every show he does about losing weight, that's one LESS show he can dedicate to things like extra toes and lazy eyes and conjoined twins and butt tumors and butt rashes and other interesting butt deformities. WE WANT MORE BUTTS.


Hating sluts - Let sluts do what they want, they aren't hurting you! Besides, if those women didn't enjoy promiscuity, then the men that they are currently satisfying would be bothering the rest of us and may even be forced to go door-to-door. Why not just applaud them for being on the front lines?
Avoiding science - People who are good at science MAKE ALL OF THE MONEY. Despite what you may hear from NO ONE, women can be scientists, too!!

Spending more than $200 on any accessory or item of clothing (I know, I know...I hate this one too) - But the facts are undeniable: 1.Your ROI on clothes and accessories is basically zero, so keep the economic gluttony to a minimum. 2. For every Fendi handbag that you're dying to get, there are fifteen other handbags that are almost as cute and cost $3547843950743859 less. 3. Did you know that your money can buy things like clothes and food for sweet little babies in other parts of the world? I don't really get how it works, but apparently there are ways for your money to go through the internet to places like Rwanda and Cambodia! Technology these days!

Writing quotes about boys - Photoshop should be used for more important things like putting Santa hats on rabbis or printing out fake coupons for free Big Macs to use at McDonald's.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Dear Rodney Dangerfield

My name is Julia Rehder and I am a young, smart, and good medium looking woman who has a lot of potential. Throughout my life, I have had many people tell me that I am so funny and that I should be a professional comedienne. Here is a list of just a few of my fans:
  • my friend Kirie
  • my old boss Magarita
  • my mother 
  • your mother (joke!)
I am hoping that you can share some of your comedy secrets with me, as I am trying to build up a solid foundation of jokes before I try to make it in showbiz. So tell me, where do you get your inspiration? Whenever I sit down to write funny things, I end up staring at my blank notepad for a while, then standing up to stretch, then trying to listen to the neighbors through the air vents, then eating a personal-sized watermelon, and then back to not writing any jokes! I am not getting anywhere with this method.

I first wrote an email to Gallagher asking for advice, but all I got was this in reply:


It was just, like, sent as an attachment. I don't think he knows that this is not the same as sending someone an autograph through the mail.

So then I wrote to Sinbad. He told me that every day when I write, I should use a comedy prompt to get things going, but I didn't really find it useful. No good feedback.
So, Mr. Dangerfield, I come to you seeking advice. How do you write jokes? And although I have heard from many reliable sources that you have been dead for six years, I figured I'd see if you could carve out some time for me anyway. Thank you for reading this!

Peace and Blessings,
Julia M. Rehder

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Many Faces of Wardo

Like his father, Ward maintains a poker face when we are in public. But also like his father, when this baby is in the comfort of his own home, he gets weird fun!

Note: I was captioning these pictures with things like "Feeling grumpy!" and "Feeling sleepy!" when I realized that I was pretty much naming all of the seven dwarfs. So, you know. That's the direction in which I took things.
Happy
Sneezy

Bashful
Dopey
Grumpy

Sleepy

Dopey
Dopey
Dopey


Dopey

Dopey
Dopey
DOPEY

*sigh*

Friday, November 18, 2011

Now You Know I am Southern

Today, my Aunt Miriam (namesake) drove my Nanny and Papa the hour to Tullahoma, Tennessee to eat at the Cracker Barrel for Nanny's birthday.
Even though I'm fairly certain you have never accessed the internet once in your entire life, Nanny, I will still wish you a happy birthday right here on this blog. Be expecting my call this afternoon to discuss how the baked apples tasted this time around.

Other ways to tell that I am from the South:
  • I do not pronounce the words "pen" and "pin" differently (because seriously there is just no difference in the sound of those words okay I don't know what everyone else is hearing when they say it)
  • Mosquito bites aren't just mosquito bites; they are a lifestyle.
  • My friends' parents wouldn't let their kids associate with others unless those kids had "accepted Jesus into their life as their Savior and Redeemer"
  • My fourth grade teacher let us watch the OJ verdict in class and threw us a "Free at Last" pizza party when he was acquitted (this is not a joke)
  • I didn't know that wrastling was actually pronounced wrestling until I was about 13 years old
EDIT: Talked to Nanny and here are the updates: 
  • "We got down there and just went wild at Cracker Barrel!"
  • "After eatin' everythin' in sight in Tullahoma, we got to shoppin'. I've just been celebratin' mah birthday all over the place!"
  • "I don't know if ya heard tha news or not, but I sent out mah Christmas cards yesterdee, so be on the lookout."
  • "I sure do appreciate this call, but I have got some birthday recoverin' to do, Juju."

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Another Love Lost

Sloan: I'm home! *sniff* Baby? did you pour apple cider into the humidifier again? Where are you?
Julia: *sob* In the bedroom.
Sloan: Uh oh. I kind of expected this. I'm guessing you heard the divorce news about Demi and Ashton?
Julia: WHYYYYYYYYY??? Everybody was rooting for them!! *sniff* They were soul mates!!
Sloan: I know, my poor baby. *pats Julia's head* Is this...Elton John playing?
Julia: Yeah...it's my playlist.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

BathBathBathBath

bath (bäth)
n. pl. baths (bäths)

1. The act of soaking or cleansing the body, as in water or steam.

2. A vessel of water, generally for the purpose of soaking.

3.  A rigorous and passionate practice in splashdom for the baby Edward Richard Rehder.





Tuesday, November 15, 2011

It's Like He's Normal Now!

Remember when Ward's tummy time looked more like an angry version of planking?


Well that was for babies. And Ward is not a baby anymore. He is a man (baby).
Also, from this angle, it looks like we might need to talk to a plastic surgeon about some sort of frontal cranial reduction so that his head won't make up 45% of his body.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

...and That's Why You Should Never Get Married.

Sloan: My doctor said that for the next two weeks that every time I pass gas, I need someone else to smell it to make sure it doesn't smell like ammonia.
Julia: What?! He did NOT say that!!
Sloan: Yes, he did! He said it's because I need to get an objective evaluation of the smell in order to monitor my colon health! And the only way to be sure is to have someone else smell my toots.
Julia: No doctor would ever say that, Sloan.
Sloan: What? Baby, farts may be funny, but they are also just a bodily function! Sometimes you need to be an adult about things!
Julia: I am not about to follow you around and take huge, scientific whiffs of your farts!!
Sloan: Listen to yourself! *biting lower lip* This is a really embarrassing and vulnerable position that I'm in, and I am humiliated enough just having to ask you to do this. I need your help, Julia. As my wife.
Julia: Are you...serious?
Sloan: *tearing up* Yes, Julia. I'm really scared and the doctor thinks that something could be wrong.
Julia: Oh my gosh, baby! I am so sorry! *rubs Sloan's back* Yes, I'll smell them! I'll make sure they don't smell like ammonia. We'll get through this together!
Sloan: *face in hands* Okay. *sniff* Thank you. I feel better...and actually, I can feel one coming right now. Will you...?
Julia: *gulp* Okay. Let's do this.
Sloan: *FAAAAAAAAAAART*
Julia: *trying not to gag* I think this one is *dry heave* fine. I don't smell any...wait, are you giggling?
Sloan: *hiding face* What? No! I'm... I'm crying! *sob*
Julia: OH HELL NO. You called into question my obligations as a WIFE to trick me into sniffing your farts!!!!!!!!
Sloan: *laughing uncontrollably*
Julia: *enraged* You're a monster! I'm putting this on the blog to humiliate you!! People will think you're disgusting and freakish!
Sloan: Ha!! You don't have the guts!

EDIT: Only after publishing this have I realized that Sloan was reverse-psychologying me into putting this up because he's actually quite proud of his prank.

Friday, November 11, 2011

WTF

Now that Ward can (sortofbutnotreally) hold things, we give him a teething ring to play with. And by the amount of time he spends concentrating on getting it to do what he wants, I think it's like the infant equivalent to a Rubik's cube or something. He tries to bring it to his mouth, but he has to have some luck and a lot of momentum on his side in order to accomplish this. Eventually, the ring always ends up like this.


He's not coordinated enough to figure out how to get the ring back down. So, after about 30 seconds of struggle, I guess he just assumes it will just stay there forever and resumes his play while trying to look through his avant-garde baby goggles.



What does this mean about my baby? Is he a whimp? A quitter? Or perhaps just an idiot? I guess only time will tell.

Update:
This morning.


This evening.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Why Do I Even Try?

Sloan wants me to start doing more normal stuff...like putting the ice cream back in the freezer and responding to his questions about my day and chewing my food adequately before I swallow it and taking care of the baby and not untaking caring of the baby, etc. He says I need to spend time on "worthwhile things," but if singing Selena Gomez songs and doing lunges in my bathing suit while the blinds are open is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.

And what about the special pictures of Ward that I adorned with my most beloved hip hop lyrics? NOT WORTHWHILE I GUESS. I'll just delete all of them because they're so non-worthwhile unlike taking a shower which is ultra important and must be done at least once a week or whatever this is so dumb seriously I hate this place no one appreciates the things I do for them which is everything because everything I do is for them.






Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Who to Trust?

Dr. Phil,

It's me again, Ward Rehder. I wrote to you like a week ago and you still haven't answered  me. And while my faith in you is waning faster than a member of Ted Haggard's congregation, I'm going to write you one more time...with a different issue.

It's about my dad.

I've been watching a lot of True Hollywood Story lately, and I've noticed a disturbing trend: extraordinarily cute & talented children are often taken advantage of by their parents. Lindsay Lohan, Gary Coleman, Malia Obama, etc. Their lives were ruined and their fortunes plundered by the very people who should have been their greatest advocates. Talent is to be respected, not exploited. Admired, not abused. Cherished, not ignored. Appreciated, not player-hated. Cultivated, not corn-holed. Seasoned, not spelunked. Delighted, not macaroni. Aerated, not Boxing Day. The beloved comedian Bob Hope, not handkerchiefs. Coconut bra, not Cracker Jacks poured into the gas tank of a self-propelled lawn mower. You get what I'm saying.

I know I'm no Gerber baby, so I won't rely on my looks. I plan on focusing my efforts on hitting all developmental milestones early to earn the extremely rare and coveted title of "gifted." Once this has happened, the media offers will start rolling in from various networks, maybe like Nickelodeon or PBS or even Fox News (fingers crossed!!). And as a baby who is acutely aware of his own potential, I am considering some preemptive action when it comes to who will be in my life once I hit the big time.

So I'm asking you: Should I dump my dad before my ascent to stardom?

My mother is a non-issue because she's rarely home, and when she is, she just sits on the floor pulling all the books down from the bookshelf and giggling. I do not see her as a threat. Dad, however, seems to have half a brain, which could be half too much, so I'm coming to you. I've thrown together a list of pros and cons for you to consider.

Good Dad
He gives me head massages. Because life can get so crazy so fast.  
I have work deadlines, mortgage payments, and do NOT even get me 
started on my ex-wife. Dad understands that I can't always be everything 
to everyone. Sometimes I need a little time to recharge.

He gives me baths. Did I mention that I LOVE BATHS? I LOVE BATHS.
IN FACT, THE ONLY THING I LOVE MORE THAN 

BATHS IS BATHS!!!

Brawn. When one lacks the strength and mobility alone to sit and 
thoughtfully take in the framed pictures on the wall, a father 
is incredibly useful

Our cuddles. Some say that cuddles are for whimps, but those 
people are ignorant and racist. Chauvinists. And murderers.



Bad Dad

Totally ignores me whenever Maury is on. A LITTLE
HELP, DAD. SINCERELY, YOUR SUFFOCATING BABY.


Tummy time is for chumps, which is what 
Dad takes me for.

Public shaming under the guise of celebrating Halloween.


Grocery shopping. Like I have time for that.

Also, Dr. Phil, I've included a video of my father and me during one of our arguments. I feel it will help you better understand our family dynamic.



Thank you for reading this letter, Dr. Phil. I expect a prompt response, as we are both professionals, and I assume you have an understanding of how to maintain a cordial business relationship. I eagerly await your reply.

Sincerely,
Edward Richard Rehder