julia fredenblog

J-Baby and J-Bird Confront Recession The Only Way They Know How

2009-03-18T09:20:00.000-07:00

Trying to make a decent living during the recession proved to be too much for your favorite Romance Couple, J-Baby and J-Bird. We've left all of our worldly possessions (mostly tweed blazers and extension cords) behind and moved into this cave. It's only a little bit constantly moist. If you think about it, this really isn't any weirder than when friends you know from college start hopping box cars and living in filthy condemned buildings. We're just taking it a step further by eliminating all traces of humanity-- cutting out the middle man, as it were-- to live like either 1. Bears or 2. ascetic saints.

Follow our cave experience in a series of upcoming blog posts:
1. J-Baby and J-Bird Are Roughing It
2. J-Baby and J-Bird Don't Know What To Do About Food
4. We Miss Our Apartment
5. The Tension of Cave Life/Starvation Puts Strain on Our Relationship
6. Hello, Mom? I Thought Maybe I Could Move In For A Little Bit

Pagan Sacrifices, Snowtime Delights

2009-02-07T12:52:00.001-08:00

Having consulted our noted weather gods, the groundhogs, we Fredenburgs maintain that winter will continue much as it was. While some families might find the soggy, cold conditions to be ceaselessly dreary, we find it is an excellent time to show off our "fashion" sense. We actually killed the groundhogs used to make our winter predictions and made these hats out of them. We're protected against the elements, and as an added bonus, we're protected against bad winter juju.

Julia Infuses Kansas City With Much-Needed Dateability

2009-01-19T22:09:00.001-08:00

Rachel recently called me (with barely concealed glee in her voice) to bring to my attention Kansas City's most recent mention in the "news." Evidently, Kansas City topped the list of Worst Cities for Dating compiled by the crack team of sociology grad students and other human behavior/survey taking experts over at the Axe Body Spray Department at Cornell University. From the article: AXE, known coast-to-coast for their dating game expertise, came up with the idea of finding "America's Best and Worst Cities for Dating," using 24 distinct criteria including, among others: population density, percentage of singles, frequency of hooking up, dating venues such as coffee shops, bars, and intimate apparel stores and flowers and jewelry bought as gifts. I also suspect that Axe Body Spray sales in the highest ranking towns were through the roof.

Having in my possession an entrepreneurial spirit, I have come up with the perfect solution to Kansas City's woeful lack of dating and it will make me rich. Firstly, I will ad some new, even sexier Axe Body Spray scents to their arsenal (which currently includes such scentsations as Phoenix, Tsunami, Kilo, and Orion): Banana Ala Flambe, Sagittarius Rising, Blurt, and Sour Cream n Onion. I propose to set up a sort of couple factory, probably near the entrance or in the parking lot of a community college. It will be called Romance Alley or Fredenburgtown, whichever sounds more conducive to hot hook ups (so Fredenburgtown). It will be comprised of a series of stations much like the layers of hell in Dante that patrons will pass through on their way to lasting togetherness.

Station 1
Men file through showers that spray Axe Body Spray (ABS); emerge reeking of "appeal." In a separate line, women are sprayed with a makeup gun and a fire hose filled with Clinique Happy. The lines converge at
Station 2
A smokey, poorly lit bar that serves nothing but long island iced teas. 3 drink minimum.
Stations 3 and 4
A Victoria's Secret, and finally, a DeBeers retailer.

Of course, I haven't forgotten the hipster set. This leg of Romance Alley/Fredenburgtown will be housed in a warehouse in a recently gentrified area. The ABS showers will instead spray armpit sweat collected from bike messengers onto both sexes. Station 2 would include cheap domestic beer as an option and have mood music provided by a local noise band that no one can profess to like but who are very popular regardless. Stations 3 and 4 would be a bookstore specializing in first editions and a coffee house with surly employees and foul coffee.

I'm glad I have a boyfriend.

Allergic!

2008-12-13T12:23:00.000-08:00

Things have gotten pretty grim here in Kansas City, aka Romance Couplelove Wonderland For Lovers Only Paradise. The temperature has dropped so low that I have to wear wool gloves even while I do the dishes, giving me a case of "dishpan hands" so severe that I might be a medical marvel. Also, as you may have read, a recent debacle involving very ineffective composting worms has left us with a kitchen overflowing with wet garbage. Those worms are either truly lazy or truly dead. Worst of all, we have been faced with a sudden onslaught of seasonal allergies that threaten to ruin the season. Jamie and I were about to do some Holiday Stabbing (gotta keep the relationship fresh, am I right ladies?) when a sneezing fit caused him to carelessly fling the knife. "You missed the bullseye, stupid!" I cried. CHRISTMAS IS CANCELED.

Couple Stuff: Christmas Wishlist and Olfactory Moneymaker

2008-11-14T05:17:00.000-08:00

With the holiday season drawing ever nearer, you're probably wondering, "What should I get Julia and Jamie for Christmas?" Well ask no more: we are only accepting His and Hers items this year. Fellow crafters, why not knits us some His and Hers sweaters? Fellow credit card holders, why not call up Lillian Vernon and get us some of those sweet monogrammed terrycloth robes? We aren't just two strangers living in an apartment together; we are a couple, dammit, and we want our robes, bath towels, mugs, keychains, ipod caddies, toothbrush holders, and shoe trees to show it!

Soon we'll have our own David-and-Victoria-Beckham-style fragrance, complete with a copycat ad campaign. The ads will gratuitously feature Jamie and myself looking underfed and sullen or on the verge of groping each other whilst wearing impeccably starched shirts and lounging on sheets with a very high thread count. The fragrance itself will have to scream "Oppulance," but also, "Sensible Budgeting," "Do It Yourself," "Home is Where The Heart Is" and "Superiority." In other words, I'm crafting this solely for the olfactory delight of one, Martha Stewart. Additionally, the fragrance needs to be distinctly Jamie/Julia. I don't know, I'm thinking notes of bergamont, sandalwood, jasmine, apple pie filling, high fructose corn syrup, Tide with bleach, and Pantene ProV. It will be offered in traditional eu de toilette and also in a gallon tub viscous format sure to be popular with society dames and those concerned about not being sticky enough.

From the Desk of R. Scott

2008-10-26T20:32:00.000-07:00

Can we have an honest moment, you and I? Julia doesn't write this blog. I do. I started this blog as a joke (at the readers', and most of all, Julia's expense) and it turned into a year and a half long love poem to my friend-- caustic tone notwithstanding. Now that Julia has moved to Kansas City, it's getting increasingly difficult to generate topics. I actually started reading the blog that Julia and Jamie started together to steal topics, when I realized just how redundant that is. Basically, this new blog gives a much better (funnier, more accurate, more adorable) account of the G Rated exploits of Julia, because it comes straight from the source. So it is with some regret that I resign from my post as Julia Fredenburg's ghostwriter. I'm letting this blog go the way of the Edsel--lumbering into future obsolescence with noxious fumes blowing everywhere, a major embarrassment to America's once proud automobile industry.

Let's do our part, faithful readers, to keep Julia as internet-famous as possible. Check out the new Julia-Jamie blog here-- keep abreast of the romance of the century! I think Julia and Jamie can be the new Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens if we all pitch in. There might have to be a scandal involving racy pics; I'm not sure what shape this will take, as my creative stronghold on the public perception of Julia's life is effectively ended. As long as we're being candid here, might I just mention that if I didn't live in Sacramento I would be third-wheeling on this relationship like you wouldn't believe! Might I also add that I am so jealous that they are a couple who BLOGS TOGETHER that I am almost physically ill just thinking about it. In this world ripe with meaningless encounters and pathetic craigslist missed connections, the kind of love you can blog about (and with) is rare indeed.

If for some reason you are interested in keeping up with me and/or you just love total banality, go here. If not, then I urge you to check out the new blog, her flickr, and jump on my campaign to get Julia Back To California in 2k9.

A Word on My Google Ads

2008-10-01T15:10:00.000-07:00

Usually they say "cat urine," but today one says "mom mother." Clicking on my own ads would violate the terms of use, but darned if I'm not curious as hell about that one.

Get Jealous

2008-09-30T11:39:00.000-07:00

We have literally sprung forward into our new life in Kansas City; as evidenced by these photos, we have trampolines placed at the entrances to each room. Ah, spaciousness unheard of on either coast!

More glimpses into our obscenely sweet new digs are available here.

It's Happening!

2008-09-15T10:13:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow-- Jamie and I load up the Volvo and embark on our oft talked about journey to Kansas City, AKA The Greatest Romance Trip of the Century for Lovers Only! We hear they've got some crazy little women there and I'm gonna get me one...preferably, a Kansas City Chiefs cheerleader who will be amenable to the idea of doing odd jobs around the house. In 3 days time, we will begin our new life of affordability and pastimes of the landlocked. We've planned out a route that will provide us with the most hot springs stops. If there's anything I like more than eating boiled, white foods, it's having a therapeutic soak!

Jamie and I sold off much of our furniture and lesser electronics at a garage sale on Saturday. Rachel, eyes clouded with tears, took many of my old clothes, probably hoping to fashion some sort of bizarre shrine or icky doll in my likeness.

I'll disclose my new address soon. Please send Mexican food, the beach...

Hey! I Collect These!

2008-09-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Go ahead, buy me these for every birthday, Christmas, anniversary, housewarming, boat christening, or "just because" present for the next 5 to 10 years!

Left paw up= luck
Right paw up= money
Both paws up= protection for the home
Having over 25 of these placed in every room of the house= no cancer ever, getting good at gambling, Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes winning, learning to turn negative feelings into bricks of REAL GOLD, levitation, depilatory ease.

Apologies All Around

2008-08-14T21:44:00.000-07:00

Recently, I removed my dad's blog from my list of links. I was embittered over the 9 month period that went completely update-less. During that dry spell, he spent most of his time training the dog really, really well-- she is nearly well behaved now! He's started writing his blog again, using his typical "gonzo journalism" style to keep us abreast of Fredenburg family travels to places where there are an abundance of white people, observing them in their natural habitats (Canada). You may view it here.

Julia Turns Down The Alley... Tornado Alley

2008-07-27T14:52:00.000-07:00

After thinking about it for an agonizing three hours, I decided that all my San Francisco plans should go the way of yesterday's paper. I sacrificed the prestige that comes from being a Petco photographer and quit my job. I'm moving to Kansas City, Missouri, instead.
San Francisco is too expensive. Additionally, San Francisco does not have enough tornadoes or general inclement weather. There is not enough gingham. There are not enough kitchens decorated exclusively with Mary Englebreit cutesy kitsch (I never tire of her "life is just a chair of bowlies" malapropisms!) I want to be closer to that midwestern axis on which my world turns-- Chicago Public Radio's This American Life (Ira baby, I'mma comin'!). In Kansas City, open containers of alcohol are allowed in the street. This is information that hardly applies to a teetotaler like me, but is strangely enticing nonetheless. Fratboy friends I haven't yet made will feel inclined to visit, I'm sure.

While my California friends are biting their nails reading The Omnivore's Dilemma and pretending that the organic kale they bought at the under-the-freeway farmer's market doesn't taste exactly like dirt, saving every last dime to afford their basement-level tenderloin apartment that they share with a pot dealer inexplicably named Sandalfoot, I'll be slathering strip steaks in K.C. Masterpiece, wearing a Kansas City Cheifs starter jacket and drinking beer out of a red party cup downtown, suddenly feeling a strange pride in an Irish heritage I may or may not even have.

My only fear is that in my absence, Rachel may become more like this guy.

Apple Not Falling Far From the Tree Department

2008-06-30T22:22:00.001-07:00

Julia "Maui Tan" Fredenburg here with a special report on mother daughter time. It being nowhere near her birthday and with Mother's Day long past, what better time for a salute to dear Mama? After all, there's no one like mother to me-- which is why I dismissed the whole "struggling to form my own identity" thing as whiny teenage rebellion and have wasted no time in becoming just like her! Below is a list of the ways that I've succeeded so far.

1. My mom and I go running together, with matching running shoes and a single ipod shuffle between us, playing the latest podcast of This American Life. Though I haven't discussed it with her, I'm willing to bet that she shares my crush on Ira Glass. I mean, he is the closest thing NPR will ever have to a heartthrob, and we Fredenburgs are put at ease by other people in quirky, thick-framed glasses.

2. We compete over whose shoes are more "sensible." Are those Danish clogs? You win this round, Mom!

3. We both fall asleep after a meat based meal watching English mysteries on PBS. Oh Poirot, but you are fussy!

Cat Urine Agogo!

2008-06-22T19:12:00.000-07:00

I have been moved out of my adorable Santa Cruz apartment for a couple of weeks now, marking the true end of my college days. No more late nights bent over the math book (or toilet). No more polite gatherings for pie (check your sense of abandon at the door; inhibitions welcome!) in the breakfast nook. It is truly the end of an era... an era that ended for most of us a year prior. I would like to be able to report that, after a month of frustrated searching, Rach and I have finally found that illusive San Francisco apartment, sans cat pee, not in Bayview, and with a window, but that would be a lie. I am now pseudo-homeless, apportioning my time among Sacramento (because I find temperatures above 100 "pleasant"), San Fransisco/Oakland for my jobs, and Jamie's Santa Cruz apartment, which only serves to remind me of the S.F. life that could be with the fragrant aromas of the neighbor's "incense" and the urine of about 50 cats wafting through the window. It seems the one thing that isn't hard to come by in this rough-and-tumble world where jobs and houses are scarce is cat pee. Whose cats are those anyway? Seriously.

I've compiled a sort of "Best Of" here...
CAT PEE ON THE 'NET
1. This site suggests that there are underlying causes for this cat urination problem-- mainly anxiety about other cats. So I should have a "bit of a sit-down" with all 50 cats; see if I can get them to open up. Chances are they will say, "Look Julia, I'm needing to constantly re-establish my territory through urination because there are 50 of us and not much territory to go around, see?" To which I will reply, "I understand where you are coming from, Mr. Boots, I mean, hell, we've all been there." Then, logically, I would lift my own leg on the apartment, as an act of solidarity...
2. This self-proclaimed cat pee expert knows a few handy concoctions of household products you could use to cover up/eliminate the cat pee smell. Recipes double as mouthwash or salad dressing but not both.
3. The South Park "Cheesing" Episode. Only click on this link if you aren't my parents or grandma.

Art Degree Still More Useful Than Lit Degree Somehow: Field Of Study Provides Related Job

2008-06-03T23:34:00.001-07:00

While you losers were out having heated, yet unimaginative discussions about Obama at the local dive, spilling Stella Artois on your slacks as you move to pound your fist on the bar, or inside playing Scramble on Facebook for days on end, forgetting what toothpaste even tastes like, I was out making a name for myself. That's right-- job acquired. I'm now Petco's Official Pet Photographer, serving those members of the community who would have their portrait's taken at Sears, if Sears was a little more lenient about fecal matter. After doing this for one day, I'd say the key to capturing images of pets is to emphasize the bond between animal and master through a nurturing, holistic approach involving both patience and threats of harm and punishment. Keep bringing those untrained, highly excitable german shepherds my way, folks, and I'll keep snapping portraits that you are guaranteed to treasure forever. Finally, life is on the upswing. Only thing left is to find an apartment.

I think puncture wounds from dog teeth probably heal pretty fast.

Update: My New Look, My New Awards, Etc.

2008-05-24T01:25:00.000-07:00

Hey gals, do you ever just wake up with a sudden revulsion for everything in your wadrobe? You're feelin' blah and you want a new look? Well that happened to me just the other day. I decided, at that point, to get extensive Botox injections, and then cover my entire face, body and clothes in white powder!

Oh, also, I am the recipient of UCSC's prestigious Irwin Award for my photography. The ceremony is this week. I made a modest little invitation for the event, if you feel so inclined to go. But, you know, don't trouble yourself if you'd rather be at home reading that thorough, thrilling campaign coverage on the website of the newspaper that you read in print form just a few hours earlier. I won't mind. It's not like we winners of this sought-after honorable distinction were busting our humps for weeks organizing this event, subjecting ourselves to ridiculous 1920s socialite style portraits to bring an iota of class to Santa Cruz. It's not like we did that.

Also also, Rach has been writing in an infuriating Wonder Years style about her boring adolescence here. Keep your fingers crossed that she deletes it soon out of embarrassment and good judgment.

I hope to see you at 5pm sharp (punitive measures for stragglers-- will be denied water crackers, to say the least) at the Sesnon gallery this Wednesday for the presentation of my award-winning work!

The Successful Living Checklist

2008-05-15T20:20:00.000-07:00

Artsy type photography internship in the bay: check

Job that pays money: not yet

House that doesn't, for whatever reason, reek of cat/former tenants' urine: still M.I.A. (Plenty of the urine-soaked kind are available-- check craigslist now! Specify "ground floor/basement," "student friendly" and "no credit--no problem!" in your search).

Overpriced loafers with dogs heads embroidered on them: check check check! The absence of these babies is probably the root of that gnawing inadequacy I'd been feeling, and once I get my hands on some handmade black lab slippers with dogbone print fillagree, the job and apartment will just fall into place without even having to try.

What Color Is My Parachute and So On?

2008-05-06T00:21:00.000-07:00

So I'm trying to move to San Francisco, right? This is a task more easily accomplished with a bay-area job to foot the rent. I keep foolishly checking craigslist and other "legitimate" job boards for jobs for which I might be qualified--- photography, artsy stuff, etc. But meanwhile, an often overlooked faction of the crafting community is becoming profitable: the Cat Humiliation Industry! Julia, it's time to re-assess your career goals. It's a proven fact that pet-owners will pounce on any opportunity to belittle their furry friends. Starting tomorrow, I'm sweeping the charred remains of my carefully crafted resumes and cover letters into the wastepaper basket (burning them first in a highly symbolic ceremony... all invited...butter-based snacks and popov vodka will be served, respectful silence requested and business casual dress, 10:00AM-11:00AM) and picking up the polyfibers necessary to make my own kitty wigs!

Really, I think wigs could look good on cats, and that's important. What's more, I think wigs could embarrass cats, and therein lies the profitability.

Copycat!

2008-04-11T22:01:00.000-07:00

I saw a picture on a New York fashion blog of a guy trying to copy Jamie's style. I tried to do it, too, but then I got sick and crazy.

Finding Our Dream Apartment, pt. 1

2008-04-07T03:14:00.000-07:00

I just graduated from college, and it only took 5 to 7 years. Congratulations, me! Now Rachel and I can begin our tireless search for a reasonably priced apartment in San Francisco. With any luck, we'll find our dream apartment: two bedrooms, $1500 a month, quaint victorian era detailing, atop a taqueria or bail bonds office, cloying scent of urinal cakes-- origin untraceable. I know, I'm building castles in the air, right? I'm keeping my cursor on the craigslist pulse, just in case that palatial estate turns up.

In other news, today is my birthday. I wouldn't mind receiving this stunning, lifelike garden statuary, if you feel so inclined to purchase it. I'd like to place it in the yard in hopes that it might scare away some of those pesky real squirrels. I sure hate 'em!

Oh, Pooh! Dairy Aisle Tragedy

2008-03-14T00:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks to finance mismanagement or something else awful, my favorite yogurt is now gone. Folks, if you never tried water buffalo yogurt, then you missed out on a flavor sensation. It had the taste and consistency of ice cream and cheese cake, but, you know, healthier. Discouraged, but ever-committed to quirkiness in the face of all obstacles, I picked up some other non-cow yogurts to eat in its stead.

Here's the verdict:
goat yogurt-- a little zippier than cow yogurt, and a whole lot runnier. Not at all comparable to water buffalo variety.
sheep yogurt-- I don't know how else to put this: it tastes like sheep. Would only eat again to impress "daredevil" types.

Overall:

J.Fredenburg Gets An ETSY: Crafting Elite Receives Giant Slap in the Face

2008-03-08T23:24:00.000-08:00

Originally, I started this blog to catalogue my baby steps into the world of crafts-- a world dominated by new, young mothers wearing Camper shoes and fixing tofu scrambles in their secret nucleus of Portland, Oregon. They're looking for a way to fill the hours until their husbands get home. They're turning to crafts, because advertisements in a magazine with feminist leanings they found at the health food store seem to suggest that knitting is somehow subversive, empowering, and hip. They're "learning so much" from their kids, who are soon tragically dressed in miniature felted wool suits, clutching lumpy stuffed animals, and fussing with the strings of an unnecessary hat (each handmade by mom and affixed with a little embroidered tag that says so). Then they get an Etsy account.
Frankly, the craft scene leaves a lot to be desired. I've separated the wheat from the chaff as it were, deciding to eliminate all traces of children from my craft life. You know what that means-- little Mackenzie Rose has got to go. Act now and I'll throw in these creepy retouched headshots.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that I got an ETSY! Buy my adorable dresses! Or at least stop by for the best use of alliteration since Beowulf!

How do you like me now, craft-blogging elite? Someone new and noticeably childless walks in your midst! (Let's all see to it that Mackenzie finds a suitable home. You're just as responsible for her as I am, at this point).

If you're unfamiliar with Etsy, I found this BlogTalkRadio interview with its vice president of communications that's quite comprehensive. I know--a talk radio show about blogs. How redundant...how dull... and yet, how strangely compelling.

List of My Accomplishments Grows Ever Longer...

2008-03-01T22:12:00.001-08:00

Attention family, friends, and e-stalkers: I am now the photography intern at the esteemed and world-famous Scott's Valley Press Banner! My supervisor told me that I'm the best intern they've ever had. He also told me that I am the only intern they've ever had. Unprecedented!

Other Blogs Reminiscent of Me; Also, A Valentine TGIF Treat

2008-02-15T10:12:00.000-08:00

Reading this blog, for me, was kind of like finding a really accurate horoscope (for those of you who care for that sort of thing). Very eerie, especially topics numbered 36, 38, 39, 44, 46, 47... well, the list goes on.

I hope you all enjoyed Valentine's Day, and experienced love in one way or another.

The outrageous eyebrows suggestive of hirsutism on that shabby ventriloquist's dummy remind me of a certain little someone.

Just A Bowl of Mush Away From Spiritual Fulfillment

2008-02-12T12:44:00.000-08:00

For over a year now, I have been searching for oatmeal of the thickest viscosity to please my finicky, housecat-like pallette. Many experiments took place, with unsatisfactory results (might have accidentally made dog chow/low-grade explosives/brass polish/bootleg hooch/clear blue liquid gel/an improperly cited wikipedia entry). Just recently, though, I made a discovery: If I just boil a mess of granola the way I would normally cook oatmeal, then I get the desired consistency. Yum Yum! I have incorporated it into my morning routine, where it is taking the place of both a hamburger and an hour's worth of troubling New Agey rituals.

My message is simple: granola-cooked-as-oatmeal is not only a part of this complete breakfast, but might also be so satisfying to the part of you that craves spirituality (and acceptance!) that you might gain the strength to finally leave that money-sucking cult!

Namaste and Bon Appetite,
Julia

Admitting My Halcyon Days Are Over: Creating Cool Website In Response

2008-02-05T11:11:00.000-08:00

Big changes are in store next month for Madame J. Fredenburg (that's me!). I'll be graduating. Also, the rent on my house is going up by about a trillion dollars, so I'll be leaving my cozy little Santa Cruz nest, which, as you can recall, was the site of many wild parties. Time to wake up and smell the future! Time to bury the remains of my untamed college days.

Step 1: Quit the egg creams. I'm assuming I'll have to do this cold turkey, as I don't think the egg cream patch/gum has been approved yet in this country, or even exists.
Step 2: Acquire a more conservative pair of glasses. My current thick black frames might confuse potential employers into thinking that I'm Sir Elton John. No autographs, please!
Step 3: Cancel New Yorker subscription; replace with Wall Street Journal and Cat Fancy
Step 4: Create a "real," more professional-looking website to showcase my photography. Take steps to hide this blog from the art world. Check it out!

Blink 182 said it best: "Well I guess this is growing up!"

Have fun voting today ladies and gents! As far as I know, Hilary didn't instate my "wild tiger woman" campaign facelift idea. I predict that this will only hurt her at the polls.

Meet Hilary's New Campaign Managers

2008-01-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

Jamie and I went up to Sacramento recently to, among other things, see some historical sites. Here we are in Rick's Dessert Diner fueling up on sugar and 1950s kitsch before a late-night run to the Stanford Mansion and The Governor's Mansion! Buildings of yore! We like to do our touring at night, when Sacramento is most seductive.

In the car on the way back to Santa Cruz, Jamie, Rach, and I discussed ways to revamp Hilary R. Clinton's public image. Since she is not particularly feminine, we think it would be fortuitous for her to simply discard any remaining vestiges of being a woman, and start slicking her hair back and wearing white suits. Maybe even disco suits. Maybe even Elvis' suit. You know, an attractive combination of verve, sparkle, and rugged masculinity. Drawn-on pencil-thin mustache is optional, but advised. And here's the clincher: She shall take a page from the Cal Worthington book of showmanship by riding into important public events on a fierce tiger. The tiger is symbolic of our nation's troubles, and you, Hilary, are the only candidate who can "tame the beast!" The pendulous (and totally optional!) gold chains hanging around both your and the tiger's necks will evoke the opulence of the new, increasingly prosperous America under your reign... if you'd only let us tweak your image every so slightly!

Call us, Hilary! We will turn you into the Liberace of presidential hopefuls.

Watch this clip to get the full flavor of what we'd like to achieve. You can skip minutes 1:39 till the end, where Cal Worthington is getting gnawed on (playfully?) by the tiger, and later getting "love" bites in the neck from what appears to be a bear buckled into the passenger seat of a Chevrolet. That part's not important.

Crippled by addiction-- crafting adversely effected

2008-01-13T22:14:00.000-08:00

I'm really glad to have found this egg cream blueprint online. Now I can make my own egg creams from home, and recreate that glorious high! Up until now, I had been "chasing the dragon" for weeks!

I think my insatiable need for egg creams (abbreviated from here on out as E.C.s) is starting to adversely affect my rich hobby life. For instance, instead of sewing, I just spent hours perusing this fake craigslist, looking for free give-aways, before realizing that it was just a hilarious fraud. Oh well, I guess I didn't really want those free cobra puppies, anyway.

In the meantime, I'll be watching what I like to call Egg Cream-o-Vision. It's barely audible, it's out of focus, and I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH!!!

Egg Creams-- Better Than Crack Cocaine; also, A Trip I Went On

2008-01-13T00:48:00.000-08:00

When I was in New York last month, Jamie called me up and said, in a nutshell, "Hey Julia, wanna come with me to the midwest and deep south to retrieve the homemade raft that myself and several others used to navigate the Mississippi this summer/fall? You remember-- that life changing experience I had that involved many hilarious and scary brushes with the local law enforcement. Remember how myself and the other rafters became the hot topic on the local news and, with the aide of a generous lawyer seeking publicity and a somewhat bombastic news anchor we eventually made it to our proposed destination of New Orleans, even with the coast guard hot on our trails?" Well, ok, perhaps he said less than that. Maybe he said Come Get The Raft With Me. Bottom line: I agreed to go. It's amazing what I'll agree to do once I get a few egg creams in me! Lay off the sauce, Julia! Granted, there's no alcohol in an egg cream (that I know of!) but darned if I don't get riled up just thinking about them! EGG CREAM!!!!

So flash forward a couple of weeks: Jamie and I are driving through the south at breakneck speed, hell-bent on retrieving the raft in N'Orleans, only making brief stops to pee and immerse ourselves in a wonderland of Elvis memorabilia. Adventure around every turn! At one point, I believed Jamie to be lost in some thick brush. Even my dangerously high levels of egg-cream derived moxie couldn't make me get in that brush! I cursed myself for leaving my machete in Santa Cruz.

But listen, dear reader, all you really need to know is that the raft was secured eventually, and is currently resting, disassembled, in a garage in Kansas City, MO. This adventure has easily been the most exciting one of my life. I almost don't want to tell you too much about it, gentle reader, because, given the usual comically dull "style" of my blog (that you have, I'm sure, come to both enjoy and even revere as a sort of Prairie Home Companion alternative), it seems kind of vulgar to suddenly shock you with a lot of swashbuckling, folderol, and fanfare. Frankly, I have to assume that at least 70% of my readers have some kind of geriatric heart condition, and you old biddies probably don't welcome too many kicks. I mean, am I right or am I right, ladies?
For those of you who probably won't suffer dizzy spells or shortness of breath in the face of a little excitement, feel free to have a look-see at my pictures from the trip.

Raft disassembly-- Deconstruction of some very large-scale crafting!

Another egg-creamless continental breakfast leaves me near tears at a Best Western in Donaldsonville, LA.

2008 off to a rollicking start! Happy new year, friends!

Breaking News: Once In A Lifetime Event

2007-12-23T00:25:00.000-08:00

Here, feast your eyes before I come to my senses: a nearly flattering photo of Rach! Now, ordinarily I would only feature the most hideous pick of the flickr litter-- it's just a compulsion of mine. Maybe the holiday season has left me feeling benevolent. Maybe it's the aftermath of jet-lag, or a bit of undigested New York bagel. I don't know. What I do know is this: she recently got a haircut that makes her look like Janet from Three's Company, or maybe even a blind woman who has never seen her own hair and allows friends to convince her to get something "fuss free" and gender-neutral for the sake of convenience. In other words, fans of my usual draconian approach to photography can breath easy, for this foray into forgiving pictures of Rach will be decidedly short-lived.

Oh yeah, I was in New York for a week. More on that when I start feeling like myself again, and as usual, more pictures on my flickr.

Another Pitiful Attempt at Murder

2007-12-08T01:44:00.000-08:00

For a shining moment last weekend, my bleak social life caught a glimpse of hope, as Rach and I met up with friends in the east bay for all kinds of jollies! We enjoyed cheap Indian fare in San Francisco, played games, went to a karaoke joint, and stayed up into the wee hours making egg sandwiches at an impromptu sleepover in Oakland. When we awoke, delicious french toast with Real maple syrup was heaped on plates before us by our generous host, Spencer.

You might notice that my friends appear to be showing wild and deranged excitement and energy in these photos. Really, it was Rach who was behaving manically, and the looks on our friends' faces could in all likelihood be fear. You see, Rach interacts socially even less now than I do, and all the excitement of genuine human contact made her jumpier than a grasshopper'n a bed a' hot coals. (I'm trying to incorporate some "spicy contry sayins" into my vocab for a quick and easy injection of "quirky personality." Is it working?) In fact, her high-strung and lunatic-like skylarking soon began to irritate me so much that an "unplanned" detour into this ravine to dispose of her discretely was in order. As you can see from this pictoral, she did not scamper playfully down to within pushing distance of the water as I'd hoped, and instead stood high on the hill, training her suspicious eye on the camera and snapping (terrible) photos of Jamie and myself.

I guess Rachel was hip to our tricks all along, because this photo was obviously taken at gunpoint!

Photos More Unflattering Than The Ones I Take of Rachel; Also, The Endless Supply of Math Department Hijinks

2007-11-27T14:48:00.000-08:00

Just when I had eaten the last of the Honey Nut Cheerios and was between Netflix acquisitions and life was more unbloggable that usual, I stumbled on this treasure trove of photographic gems! There's at least three browsable hours worth of semi-hideous polaroids from the 50s through 70s in here! Boredom effectively ended.

No, really, I manage to stay pretty busy. I mean, in addition to being a full-time student, I have that job grading math tests, which is really less of a job and more a thrilling hobby comparable to spelunking, kayaking, and of course, crocheting. I really can't even begin to list the hilarious cuts-ups and characters I meet in the Math Department. Ok, granted, no one in the Math Department really looks me in the eye or has done anything to give me the idea that they've made any kind of human interaction in their lifetimes. But I think after 3 to 5 years of constant cajoling (and possibly some icebreaker games/intense therapy) that their inner boisterousness and sense of humor will slowly reveal itself, maybe in the form of a head-nod or an audible sigh. When it does, I'll be ready.

Sometimes My Life Just Gets So Exciting That I Nearly Puke

2007-11-12T22:00:00.000-08:00

My social life in Santa Cruz has slowed to a crawl, but good news: the pie season is upon us. No time like the present to hop a train up to Sactown and try some of mom's heavily sugared varietals. Now, dear reader, it should be noted that I did not indeed "hop" the train; that was just a figure of speech. I do not condone such flagrant disregard of train safety. I boarded the train cautiously and legally, and even volunteered to wear a life vest although Amtrak staff deemed this practice to be both very unnecessary and grossly unappealing. The woman sitting next to me asked the conductor if she could move, as the life vest, inflated to full capacity, was "encroaching on her space" and "should have purchased a ticket if it wanted its own seat." "Safety first," I said, sneering at her as she pouted. Some people have no class.

Once my tum was properly pie-filled, I decided to call up Rach and see what she's been doing. Apparently she's been doing a whole lotta nothing, but we did go to the local fake British bar, The Bonn Lair, wherein we participated in an impromptu "light rock" trivia contest. Drunken thirty-something age single men sure are impressed with our 80s hits knowledge, it seems. Today Rach gave me a much needed home haircut in her backyard while her parents looked on with suspicion and perhaps even anger. Now I'm ready to go back to S.C. and really razzle-dazzle those fellow math majors.

I know. I already regret using "razzle-dazzle."

Lulu: I'm A Patron No More

2007-11-08T12:48:00.000-08:00

Out of Earl Grey? What the hell?! What a crude misrepresentation of a coffee house you are, Lulu's! Another morning ruined when my unusually commonplace expectations for tea have failed to be met.

Once your rage (and mine) subsides, direct your attention to this lady's blog, as she strives to make every recipe in The Joy of Cooking. I do enjoy cooking from time to time, particularly baking, as autumnal fruits (persimmons! pumpkins!apples!) are practically screaming at me to render them into seasonal sugar snacks. "Shut up shut up shutup!" I sometimes scream back. Mostly, though, you'll find me spooning the contents of a Trader Joe's brand boxed Indian Assortment onto some white rice, chuckling softly to myself over my latest netflix selection. Oh W.C. Fields, you are so drunk!

1970s Pornography and Its Corrupting Influence on The World of Crafts

2007-10-26T10:57:00.000-07:00

In my unwavering search for interesting and inspirational craft sites, I happened upon this reprehensible take on embroidery. Is nothing sacred? I mean, it's embroidery, for crying out loud!

Where's This Place Called Lonely Street?

2007-10-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

Well, Rachel has flown the coop to Sacramento as it were, taking her Hall and Oates records with her and leaving behind a trail of chatchkies and tears. I know she'll have to come back to Santa Cruz eventually for her Garfield mugs and her copy of Joy of Cooking that she can't even make a salad without, but in the meantime I'm kinda lonely. The pictures that follow are from our farewell driving adventure to beautiful Watsonville, California. We also stopped in Corralitos to go to pig out on sausage, and before you even suggest something, no, I was not speaking figuratively!

Here I am taking pictures, enjoying myself as I typically do-- with fun-loving flare!

Please note that I crocheted that blue scarf myself using thrifted yarn (I love a good bargain). Look how it enhances my natural beauty, as I am making my "Parisian Coquette" face.

Uncanny!

2007-10-16T14:50:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you type my name into google? It could be purely coincidental, but judging by her use of my patented Quiet Scorn Face, I reckon this old gal is a bona fide relative. I wish I could get my hands on this trading card of her and, oh, I don't know, glue it onto a paper doily. That would be a pretty classy affair.

Dwindling Friend Supply

2007-10-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

So, Cassie has moved to New York to do what the New Yorkers do-- eat excellent cheese, and possibly get famous-- so that means my friend count is down by nearly 40%. These pictures are from our recent farewell. We're at our favorite "french" bakery, a place that might as well be called Bourgeoisie's but is in fact called Kelly's. It is there that Cassie and I used to chat for hours amidst the aging hippies, pregnant yuppies, and delicious pastries. Sadly, this is no more. I'm trying to just pour my heart (and more importantly, some sauces and jams) into my canning hobby, but I can't help but feel a little blue. I guess I can start courting my friendship with Rach with new ferocity.

She took this picture of me as we were enjoying luncheon at the Indian Food Buffet.
I bet you are thinking that the Indian Buffet is not conducive to romance. I bet you think that a visit to the Indian buffet is only good for inducing hours of painful gas. Gentle Reader, you are partially correct, but despite my intestinal rumblings, I can still muster a twinkle in my eye!
And once the twinkle subsides, pictured here is the exact moment of painful gas onset.

In Response To Your Many Requests

2007-09-29T12:34:00.000-07:00

Well, the public has spoken, and as it turns out, you want MORE pictures of me doing mundane things. So as per your requests, here are 3 pictures of me taking the Capital Corridor train from Sacramento to San Jose. The last picture is Rachel's attempt at being "artistic." Right now you are maybe wondering, "What requests? I don't remember requesting this. Who else reads this, anyway?" Ok, to be perfectly honest with you, no one requested this. And no one else reads this.

While I silently craft, my friends...

2007-09-24T23:04:00.001-07:00

My friends have just endeared themselves to the richest man in Vicksburg! Check out this news article chronicling their strange adventure.

Artichoke Debauch

2007-09-18T15:34:00.000-07:00

Do you ever buy way too much of one kind of food because it's on sale, and then wonder how in the hell you're going to eat it all before it spoils? If you're like me, this kind of bargain-hunting consequence happens all the time. The solution? Have a food-specific party, and pawn it off on your friends! Last week I bought over 30 artichokes at a roadside stand in Castroville, simply because it was a "better deal" than buying the 2 or 3 that I actually wanted! Also, my dad popped in with a crate of Mexican Cokes, clearly another victim of the Fredenburg Grocery Shopping Complex. So really, I couldn't think of a better time to host an Artichoke and Mexican Coke Soiree. Rachel took some hideous photos which are typical of her "style." I can't explain why everyone looks so crazed. Maybe in addition to the use of real sugar instead of corn syrup, Mexican cokes also still include cocaine. In any case, I think they were a hit.

Doubting Thomas

2007-09-06T23:58:00.000-07:00

Here's just a snippet of a conversation Rach and I had about my habit of ironing plastic bags together to make a tarp-like fabric:

Rachel: So what are the advantages of ironing plastic bags together, exactly?
Me: Well if you have a billion plastic bags and you only want one plastic bag...

God, isn't it obvious what the advantages are? Frankly I'm sick of dealing with these doubting Thomases! Maybe that's why I only leave the house once a day to buy specialty yogurt from the health food store.
Sometimes I think I'm just destined to go it alone, for there is no place for ingenuity such as mine in this world of conventional thinkers. And so I remain,
a sailor out to sea,
Julia

My Blackberry Pie: Welcome to Flavor Country

2007-09-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

The other night I had a soiree to celebrate a blackberry pie I made. In keeping with the DIY spirit with which I perform all tasks (but especially tooth brushing), a friend and I picked each and every blackberry used in the pie! It took over 5 hours, and I withstood many injuries, and the friend I picked them with won't return my calls, but I think it was worth it. I wish there were pictures, but my photographer was too busy guzzling table wine to notice that my pie was the best thing she'll probably ever eat. Maybe when she recovers from her hangover she'll realize that my pie makes a Marie Callendar pie look like it was baked with all the artistry of a 13 year old boy in a home economics class.

Oh Canada, pt. 1

2007-08-19T16:47:00.000-07:00

It is eye! I have been home from the Fredenburg Family Great White North Car Adventure for about a week now. I meant to post sooner, but I needed some time to recuperate from all the strenuous sitting and competitive tea and toast consumption, not to mention the fact that I probably lost 30% of my hearing from listening to Canadian NPR broadcasts too loud. "Don't stop the rock!" I have been known to say, just 3 decibels above a whisper. This relatively mild-mannered and pleasant trip was definitely the wildest time in my life.

Take, for example, our 2 camping experiences. After driving the lenghth of Vancouver Island, we got to Port Hardy and the cupboard was bare-- our hotel reservation was basically deleted. Mom was fuming-- her lips were slightly pursed! We decided, at 3am, to camp. 2 and 1 half hours to sleep-- not bad really, considering that I am usually awake at 6:30am to start brainstorming felt village patterns anyway! Here I am looking chipper in the tent. I offered to construct a tent myself out of yarn scraps and leaf litter, but my parents insisted on getting the real thing from some outdoors store instead. Amateurs.

Camping trip #2 had a little more planning involved. This time, we camped by the mosquito and gnat ridden shores of Lake Anahim, which was otherwise beautiful. And as it turns out, West Nile is totally not as bad as the media hype makes it out to be. More on this later. If you can't wait till later, check out my photos

A Virtual Shut-In

2007-07-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

If you are one of my many friends who have been wondering, "Where in the hell is Julia? Where has she gone?" and you can't even remember the last time you saw me, and my facial features are but a foggy memory to you now, well don't worry! I'm not lying in a pool of my own filth somewhere. I've just been sewing like a fiend! Felt has given way to cotton in this hotter part of the year. I made this dress, and showed Rachel how to make one too, which was the first time I had seen anyone in over a month. This dress is only one of about 25 things I've made lately. I'm thinking of featuring some of the items on a real crafts blog (as apposed to this one, which is entirely fake and full of lies and half-truths). I'll feel like less of a total recluse if my friends and family can see me through several internet windows. But that blog won't be up for awhile now-- I'm going on a roadtrip to the lesser-known parts of Western Canada at the end of this week, and I haven't even built my suitcase yet or knit my passport together!

Pissed!

2007-07-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

Look at that expression on the face of the cat in the fish tent. It's like he's saying, "Is this some kind of karma payback nightmare, some strangely comfortable, machine-washable karma payback nightmare?" Being digested has never been so plush. And I'll bet the cat in the MC-Hammer-pants-print tent is beginning to doubt his heterosexuality, big time! See how one paw is placed coyly outside the flap, beckoning the cat in the adjacent cottage to "come hither." But sadly, the other cat's legs have been bolted to the floor for the photographer's convenience, and he can't come-a-courtin'.

I'm sure the mastermind at Simplicity who thought of these cat tents is going to be milking the cash cow real soon. I can't believe someone thought of this before I did! Yet again, I've overlooked opportunities in the burgeoning cat humiliation industry and sat at home in my "house outfit" making food I don't even plan on eating instead.

2007-06-25T23:37:00.000-07:00

Ever since I graduated college, it seems that I keep finding myself posed elegantly underneath sunbeams. If only this picture had been snapped moments earlier, when I was coaxing shy deer from a nearby wooded glen using nothing but the melodious sound of my own voice! So far I am enjoying the summer and the various graduation related parties I've attended.

Here's mom and pop Fredenburg having a characteristically jolly time at Rachel's Graduation party:

This was shortly after a rollicking bout of Irish Sea Shanties and bear hunting stories.

I'm still waiting for a golden opportunity to debut the summertime felt bikini I've crafted, but I have my reservations about it anyway.

fun for the whole family

2007-06-13T21:11:00.000-07:00

Now he's gone and done it. My dear ol' dad has created a blog. Now it's even easier for the internet public to keep up on the hilarious, yet slightly stoic escapades of the Fredenburgs.

There's only one drawback: now that I know my dad reads my blog, I will really have to censor some of the lewd and lascivious content. You know what that means, folks-- my upcoming entry about sexy (and flammable!) felt lingerie will get left on the cutting room floor.

2007-06-09T16:55:00.001-07:00

So I was looking up "felt food" on Google (for your own peace of mind, please don't ask why) and I stumbled on possibly the best felt crafts blog ever(and believe you me, I have seen quite a few).

My favorite is the felt owl taking a felt crap on the felt toilet, but the Mom's Biscuits Ala Felt are also worth taking a look at.

2007-06-05T00:35:00.000-07:00

I made a holder for my camera out of, you guessed it, felt! Unfortunately, I lost a similarly woolen handcrafted ipod holder on the bus today. Damn.

Memorial Day: Friends Who Aren't Ugly In Person

2007-05-30T18:09:00.000-07:00

So I took some pictures this weekend of the memorial day festivities. My aim in taking these pictures and posting them on the World Wide Web is twofold. First, I wanted to make the food served at my friends' barbecue look unappetizing, and at the same time, I wanted to ensure that neither of these girls would get dates in this town ever, ever again.

Now, why would I want to do this to my two closest friends?! Gosh, I just don't know, but I've done it before and I'll do it again and again without even thinking about it!

Check out my flickr!

Family Secrets

2007-05-23T00:48:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had a jam session at my house. Basically, I had a bunch of friends over, told them to bring some fruit, and I'd show them the "Fredenburg family secret" for making delicious jam. Only 2 people out of 13 were crestfallen to discover that the Fredenburg family secret can be found in the informational insert in a box of prepackaged fruit pectin.

My Little Corner of the Blogosphere

2007-05-21T22:47:00.000-07:00

It seems that a successful blog is a specific blog. My pal Siri's blog is a hit because she sticks to fashion, and who doesn't love that? My interests and my posts are eclectic; so where do I fit in the blogosphere? Surely I can't have a news-crafts-jam-cookies-cats-math-and-drama-of-my-life-blog. Though if I did...

...then I'm pretty sure my readers would be confined to midwestern housewives, kindergarten pupils with incredible reading comprehension levels, and well, cats. Mostly just cats. The third cat down represents the "drama-of-my-life" faction.

Rachel and I have encouraged our dads to start blogs, so that at the very least, they will be reading this. Then we can have a "family" blog!

p.s. the word "blog" was used 6, no, 7 times in this post.

Fond Memories With Freddie the Freeloader

2007-05-15T23:15:00.000-07:00

I was just fondly recalling some good times with Rach. This is a picture of that time that she ate an entire box of cheez-its. Look at that worried expression on her face, as if to say, "Julia, is this gonna hurt?" and I said, "Yes," but she didn't hear the answer over the crunching. She probably didn't even buy those. In fact, I bought them. I bought her snacks and then I drove her home and she wouldn't let me leave until I read her The Velveteen Rabbit. Then I had to make her a plush Velveteen Rabbit out of scraps of felt and tears from orphans. Stupid bitch.

I just realized that I went 4 years in college without joining an outrageous subculture. Is it too late to become a bike punk? Oh well, I'm really much to busy with math homework. Crap-- it's 11:26-- I should have been in bed hours ago.

2007-05-12T18:33:00.000-07:00

I am a woman who enjoys many sumptuous materials (in addition to, of course, felt). For instance, here I am luxuriating on this leather sofa, which I may or may not have constructed myself.

I felt it

2007-05-10T23:24:00.000-07:00

So I'm thinking to myself, "It's a friday night, I'm an attractive 20 something, and single, maybe I should go out and see what kind of trouble I can stir up." But then, as if God's own hands had guided mine, I typed the word "felt" into a search engine instead.

http://www.thefeltpeople.com/pages/colorcards/durafeltcard.htm