Shiplap lover.

What makes something funny?

I don’t have an answer for you and I consider myself a humor writer. I can tell you humor is an art. There are different styles of humor – parody, satire, slapstick, irony, sarcasm, puns, spoofs, dark humor, the unexpected. Any stand-up comedian will tell you timing plays a role in humor. My parents will tell you humor is genetic.

But recognizing when you’re a dumbass and telling the world takes a certain skill. I once told Scott that people only think I’m funny because I’m good at making fun of myself.

It’s called the dumbass humor.

I was in the bathtub when I realized – holy shit, I might be the dumbest person I know. And I know a lot of dumbasses.

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What is this empty tub you see?

That’s the after.

Before I get to my story, let’s talk about my house. If Scott got his way, our house would look similar to a mountain lodge. Towering windows, ceilings that can easily fit a 15-foot Christmas tree, wood beams, a statement shed chandelier. Animal fur rugs under your feet and big game animals staring at you as you drink your hot cocoa with a splash of whiskey.

I mean, I don’t have anything against mountain lodges. They’re beautiful. They have a charm about them that makes you go straight for the red wine, the stout beer, the whiskey, and the medium rare steak. It’s hearty, warm, and full bodied. It’s man versus the wild – even if the eyes of the wild are made from glass.

We live at an elevation of 1,040 feet above sea level. We live in Kansas. We do not have majestic views of mountains but one time Scott saw our next door neighbor topless, popping a zit on her face in the mirror. Stop. It wasn’t at this house. Scott closed our blinds at our old house one night and there she was, really digging in with her nails. And Scott isn’t a peeping tom if he called me to watch too. That’s as far as we get for views of majestic – fine – full but a little saggy mountains.

In order to make our house a normal looking Kansas home, I need to balance the man vs. wild on our walls. I try to soften our home with flowers and white knit blankets. I weave my love of script and words with Scott’s fur and glass eyes staring at us. I think I do a good job. I am always looking for ways to mix our own version of the outdoors into our home.

The first weekend of the month, thousands of people head to the historic West Bottoms of Kansas City. You will find stores filled with antiques, one-of-a-kind vintage finds, thrifty picks, other people’s junk, whatever. It’s an interior designer’s dream. I went down to the West Bottoms this past weekend with two girlfriends. We wandered into store after store, each talking about our homes and our personal styles.

I found a perfect piece.

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Shiplap lover.

Me: Oh! This is cute. I have a whole fishing theme going on in our bathroom. Shiplap lover. Sounds sexy.

Cody: Oh, you should get it then.

Me: Yeah, I think I will. I’ll get it to decorate the shelf by our tub. It’s perfect.

Kathy: What’d you get?

Me: Isn’t this cute? I have a fishing theme in our master bath.

Kathy: Oh. Yeah. Get it.

It was perfect. There’s something about the master bathroom, especially the bathtub, that can be intimate without mushy. Shiplap lover is sexy. If there’s one thing Scott and I love with a passion, it’s fishing. You will see that love in our personal spaces.

Scott: What did you buy with Cody and Kathy?

Me: This. This. Isn’t this cute? Oh, and this too! For the tub.

Scott: What’s a shiplap?

Me: Oh, you know. Like lovers on a ship. It’s like us and fishing!

Scott: I’ve never heard of that.

Me: You’re not romantic. It’s a thing. It’s cute.

Scott: Oh.

Sunday night. I put my new decor pieces out. I filled the tub with epsom salts and oils. I applied a facial mask to my face. I poured a glass of wine, grabbed a book, and my phone. I sank into the tub and looked over at the words shiplap lover.

What is a shiplap anyway? I better make sure it’s not like the bottom deck with the rats or something gross.

Google search: shiplap

Um, what the hell is HGTV’s Fixer Upper? Who is Joanna Gaines and what the hell did I tell everyone I was buying?

Shiplap refers to a style of building material made of wood boards that overlap each other. No, not in the form of making a ship but in the form of wood pieces being nailed up on a wall like a barn. Go ahead – Pinterest search: shiplap. It’s bringing the look of a barn indoors. Some woman named Joanna Gaines from a show called Fixer Upper made it popular.

Shiplap has nothing to do with ships or fishing or getting drunk on the high seas with a lover. Nope. Any reference to fishing and shiplap makes zero sense to anyone that is not a dumbass. I don’t have one wall in my house that is shiplap. How can I be a shiplap lover if I don’t have shiplap? I love fishing and Scott not Joanna Gaines and Fixer Upper what the hell? Is that what I’m declaring now? My love for a television show that made shiplap popular?

Not only did my girlfriends probably think to themselves, what the hell was Julie talking about? But Scott called me out on it too. The employee at the store in the West Bottoms probably thought, this dumbass is buying a turquoise starfish with a shiplap sign. Every person I have ever fished with is sitting on their phone and laughing at my anchor, a turquoise starfish and shiplap lover. HGTV viewers, Joanna Gaines and interior designers everywhere are thinking, but those are rocks on her wall. Where’s the shiplap?

What makes something funny?

My dumbass.

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Throwback Thursday.

Today marks Snow Day 3 for the week.

I do love a good snow day. I’m a HUGE fan of sleeping in. Sledding and shoveling leaves us exhausted. The stillness of winter is its own lullaby at the end of the day.

But the sweet memories of summer are always around if you take a quiet morning to look – ew, like 11 am morning not dawn.

...buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks...
…buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks…

Those Cardinals know I’m a Kansas City Royals fan. We take the high road and have a mutual respect for our teams.

So what was I talking about again?

Oh yes, Throwback Thursday. I’m taking you back to 2009. It was a warm spring night at Kauffman Stadium. Kate was only a few weeks old. Emma just turned 3.

Scott is in complete control of his two daughters.
Scott can handle two daughters and watch live baseball at the same time. He’s got this.
The sweet memories of summer are always there if you look.
Ah, the sisters of comedy are always around if you look hard enough.

It’s not you Facebook, it’s Twitter.

I’ve changed my favorite social network. Twitter is where it’s at.

I still remember the day I heard about Facebook.

I had already graduated K-State. My sister, Jessica, told me about the newest thing college students had – it was called Facebook. She said it is “kinda like instant messaging but every one has a wall to post on.” At the time, you had to sign up using your college email address.

Well crap. I had to stay hip with the college students. I signed up using my old K-State email address. It worked.

That was a long time ago. Facebook has changed a lot. Now, you’re considered a ghost if you don’t have a Facebook account. It’s like you don’t exist in the social world.

I consider Facebook an easy way to communicate to the people I know in real life. I can post pictures without censoring where we live or the cars we drive. I was 24 when I started Facebook – 75% of the pictures of me include a beer in my hand on vacation or in a bridesmaid dress with my signature whiskey and coke at a wedding. It’s possible a couple of kid butt crack pictures may have slipped through. I can post a drunken post about Bill Snyder having old hairy white balls and not think anything of it because everyone knows me. Emma and Kate’s whole lives – from the moment they existed in the womb to pictures to potty training complaints – are all documented online for family and friends to see. I like seeing pictures of friend’s babies within a minute of them being born. I enjoy looking at other’s wedding and vacation albums. Of course, everything is not on Facebook. Like all social network sites, Facebook only knows what you want it to know. Or at the very least, the untag button works wonders.

Now, my love affair with Twitter …

It’s not as popular with my friends. Everyone seems to say the same thing – “I don’t know how to use it.”

Oh, but you should.

It’s simple. It’s like Facebook if Facebook was limited to posts only. Twitter cuts the crap out. Twitter doesn’t care if you “like” Target. You are limited to 140 characters – so basically, say what you gotta say and say it quickly. The majority of people that follow me/I follow are people I do not know in real life. I follow a lot of comedians. I generally follow anyone who is a K-State fan. I follow my favorite mom bloggers. I follow celebrities that are funny. If anything major happens in the world, I will hear about it in the form of jokes on Twitter, not on the news.

I swear, Twitter makes me a better writer. I laugh at my own tweets. I laugh at other’s tweets. It’s pure comedy.

I have gone on Twitter rampages that I could never get away with on Facebook. Like the time I wedding crashed. Or when my niece was born. These rampages would be annoying on Facebook. It was hilarious on Twitter – or, at least, I thought so.

I don’t know. I’m starting to prefer it over Facebook. My husband rolls his eyes at me for being on Twitter. Says he doesn’t get it. He will sarcastically ask me if someone retweeted my tweet.

The only thing I can say is it’s just where the cool kids hang out now. Gotta stay hip.