Wedding envy

(photo by Abby Ross photography, pulled from the Style Me Pretty blog linked below)

I admit it – I’m a little jealous of my friend Aubrey‘s wedding. I mean, it was one-of-a-kind. She thought about every little detail and the overall effect was a stunning day of love, beauty, and total awesomeness. See lots and LOTS of photos here. You might recognize a little bridesmaid named Wiggs…wearing a dress from Forever 21. I love that someone in the comments asked where our dresses came from (the answer is: all over the place – Lindsey’s mom actually MADE the gorgeous dress she was wearing).

A lot of people ask about the post-wedding blues. I definitely have them. I think writing an actual book about my wedding made mine even more palpable, because long after my Big Day, I’m trying to remember each and every little moment of it for the manuscript. And, yeah, sometimes all I can think about are the things I would have done differently, especially when I see other gorgeous weddings that seemed to do everything right. Then I just have to remind myself that the one thing I wouldn’t change is the dude who I ended up hitched to at the end of the day…and then he does something hilarious like making up a song about my ugly pajamas…and I forget aaaall about the lackluster centerpieces at our reception.

I’ve been keeping something from you

Okay. I’ll tell you my secret. I signed up for (another) half marathon. This time I wanted to keep it on the D.L. because (a) I’ve been sucky about training for it and (b) my track record with actually RUNNING the half marathons I sign up for is pretty dismal…we’re talking 1 for 4 at this point. So I didn’t want to over-promise. I’ve had this happen to me WAY too many times, and I’ve learned my lesson about committing to something before I’m sure I’ll actually end up doing it.

But!! The half is in exactly five days (this Sunday), and I think I’ll actually do it! Can you believe it? I can’t. I seriously, really, for reals, have NOT been training. I’m not saying that in a “I’ve ONLY been running 15 miles a WEEK!” way; I mean that I have done exactly 4 training runs since, oh, last March or so. Then about four weeks ago, I looked at the calendar and was like, “CRAP, I haven’t been working out and I’m supposed to run a half marathon in a month. I suck.”

Als0, it’s annoying when a blogger promises to do/write/update/deliver something and then fails. And I know I’ve been an offender from time to time. Okay, a lot of the time. Okay, I’m like the worst offender on the Internet. Which is why I love you people for continuing to read and comment.

The good news is, I think I’m going to be able to finish the race. At this point that’s all I can hope for, since I’m definitely not going to beat my PR-slash-only time of 2:15 – sad, but true.

With careful advice from my brother-in-law’s new girlfriend-slash-former-Canadian-Olympic-team-triathlete (BOOYA), I’ve been managing to pull off some decent runs. Last week, I did a full 10-miler with minimal pain or mental infirmity at the end. I accomplished this by going early in the morning, before it got too hot, and doing 5-and-1′s the whole time (run five minutes, walk one).

All of this is boring to most of you, but here’s what might not be: in the past couple of weeks, I’ve discovered a teensy bud of love for running. It’s nothing to write home about at this point, but it’s something. It’s this little voice in the back of my head, when I’m running and rocking out to good music, that says, “I like this.”

I can’t really say what has changed – but part of it is that I’ve started going by myself a lot more. I love Dave to death (obviously) but I think running together all the time was starting to get rough on both of us. I would feel bad for holding him back, and he would feel bad for getting frustrated with me when I whined, or fake-fell, or yelled at him for looking at my jiggly cheeks, or whatever. It’s still nice to start and finish runs together, but I’ve been doing the bulk of my long distances alone – just me, my iPod, and the goose shit.

Seriously, geese make human-sized turds. It’s frightening.

This is a good thing, because last night I baked a cake and ate the whole thing in one sitting. I told myself it was my dinner, but the three extra pounds the scale had for me this morning said otherwise.

Oof.

Okay, some updates and some pictures.

1. I’m working full-time and I LOVE it. I have my own cubicle! I’ve only ever worked in open-office plans or from home, but I love having my own little cubby to hide in when I’m feeling antisocial. But I have to do that annoying blogger thing and not tell you where I work, because I don’t know whether I could get in trubs for that. But it is awesome, and I have a sort-of long commute which I’m friggin’ PASSIONATE about since I get to listen to books on tape and have alone time. Is that weird? (I’m listening to The Magicians and it is…well…magical.)

Also, I love the excuse to buy business casual attire.

And…I have a private blog with my three besties where we post what we wear every day, and the other day when I was trying to take a photo of my outfit, this is what happened:

2. Um, so I may or may not be running a half-marathon in t-minus 4 weeks, and I started training for it…yesterday. Literally. Like, I hadn’t worked out in months before yesterday. I wore a heart-rate monitor and it went crazy beeping at me because my pulse got above 190. Apparently that’s bad. I’ll tell you this: it FELT bad. I think it was the 90-degree heat, paired with my terrible physical shape. I felt like such a turd the whole time – which was only an hour, since I was only running 5 miles, which used to be my short(ish) run distance. How the heck do you get back into running after you train for a race? It’s been over a year since my last half and I still haven’t been able to force myself to do it. Yeesh.

3. Cooking = nadda. No time. To tell you the truth, I can’t remember what I’ve been eating. Here’s what happened when I tried to take a photo of a cooking adventure a couple of months ago (it’s been such a long time I don’t even remember what I made):

4. This is totally random, but can I tell you how freakin’ awesome my mom is? A lady never reveals her mother’s weight, but my mom weighs the same as me right now. She’s gotten all into Yoga and she’s making me look bad.

5. I didn’t realize you people were asking me more anonymous questions on my formspring! I answered all but one question (which, I’m so sorry to the person who asked, but my family would KILL me if I answered, even though it’s not a juicy answer).

6. So here’s what I think would be awesome: if you guys requested blog posts. I have an easier time writing them when you have specific demands. (Yes, I’m basically asking you to do the work for me) (that’s what grad school is teaching me, apparently).

7. Here’s a gratuitous photo of my son:

My book cover

…we’re still in the process of ironing out a couple of details (for instance, the scrolls on the spine and left flap will likely change), but this is generally what the book will look like! I’m told that in the higher resolution version, the bride doesn’t appear to be missing a head. Here’s hoping…

What do you guys think?? Also, I have ZERO ego about the size of my mom’s name. She got all maternal when she first saw it and wanted my name to be the same size as hers since I did more of the writing, but I say we should do whatever will sell copies. If I could pretend my name was Oprah Winfrey, I’d do it.

My wedding “oops”

Something went wrong on my wedding day. And, brides, I’m sorry but something will go wrong on your wedding day – just remind yourself that it will still be the happiest day of your life and you’ll be all good. See, there was this snafu with the hotel room where I was supposed to get ready, and in the ensuing time-crunch, things got hectic. After a long chain of events that I won’t bore you with, we ended up not taking any posed family photos. The result was I didn’t get to document having three generations of my family all together in one place for the first time in 20 years. (I should note that this was NOT my fabulous photographer‘s fault – the blame lies with a naughty receptionist who will forever be on my shit-list.)

Ever since then I’ve been dying to make it up to my relatives, who were understandably upset after our wedding. Enter the perfect storm of family-gathering-times: my grandfather’s 80th birthday, my cousin’s high school graduation, and a goodbye reunion for an arm of the fam who’s moving to Australia this summer. Knowing that my grandparents, their three children, all of their grandchildren, and their great-grandpuppy were going to be in the same place at the same time, I schemed with my mother and my aunt to get professional family portraits taken during our time in Park City, Utah.

The surprise was perfect: following a post-graduation, happy-80th-birthday brunch with the whole clan, we drove down the street to a beautiful tree grove and met a wonderful photographer who you’ll meet soon. Here’s me with all of my cousins on my mom’s side of the family (the guy holding Bax above is Joelle’s future husband). The recent grad (and junior bridesmaid) is the cutie next to me with her tongue out and Joelle is the kissy-face one on the other side. My youngest cousin is second-from-the-top, also a junior BM. I’m the oldest…but I don’t always act like it.

You’ll notice that I climbed the tree wearing 4-inch heels. Baller.

The photos in this post are outtakes from my cousin-slash-maid-of-honor Joelle’s camera. I’ll post the professional ones when I get ‘em.

So…that’s how I (sort of) made up for my wedding “oops.” It wasn’t the same, but in hindsight I think these’ll turn out better than any photos we could have taken on my wedding day, since my relatives and I had just spent three full days eating, hiking, and jumping on a giant trampoline together.

…oh, and don’t believe me about the trampoline?

Please take note of the embarrassed husband sitting on the steps in the background, quietly judging me. He was just jealous because he doesn’t have moves like me.

Have you ever had to make something up to your family? Do tell.

Happy Birthday to My One

Five reasons I’m glad Dave was born:

1. His laugh is so big that it fills a room. Even when it’s so loud that I can’t hear the next line on The Office, I have to smile.

2. He gets excited about EVERYTHING, even the plastic bag holder I got him for his birthday.

3. He has worked on a number of civil rights cases during his time in law school, and the impact he has had on his clients is mind-blowing. I wish I could tell you guys more. It is truly an inspiration.

4. He loves our baby as much as I do. Which is a lot. Almost too much.

5. We were talking about our life goals the other night, and his hope for us was that we find a way to better the world. He said nothing about money, or what kind of house we live in, or where our kids go to school – he just wants to leave a giant, awesome, Wiggs-n-Dave stamp of goodness somewhere.

…okay, and a bonus:

6. He loves every piece of clothing my mother or I give him, and declares that every meal either of us serves him is the best he’s ever had. In other words, he has more brownie points than he could ever possibly need.

Happy birthday, husband. Thanks for being my puzzle piece. And thanks for being two months younger than me so every year on your birthday we can say that I’m no longer robbing the cradle.

12of12

A day late, but hey, a post is a post, right?

1 :: A lovely dress from Anthro, given to me by my mom. Do you think it’s too much white to wear to a wedding?

2 :: I’ve started putting all of my headbands on the cupcake tower I registered for. I put it on the list SURE that I would be using it all the time…but…alas. Most cupcakes that get made ’round here are eaten before they have a chance to go on the tower.

3 :: My bedside table needs some serious organization. It’s ridic. I’m currently reading Ilium, which is this heavy-duty sci-fi book that I only recommend if you like that sort of thing. I do. Next up is Wolf Hall, which I’ve heard is also only worth reading if you’re obsessed with Tudor history. I am. It’s a little out of control. I counted and I own 28 books about it.

4 :: I love the shape of his little butt! He kills me. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

5 :: A Polaroid from my 22nd birthday party at Benihana (oof, four years ago?). I’ve been to Benihana on my birthday every year since I was 8. Featured in it: Dave, who had only been my boyfriend for a couple of months, his little brother (visiting us this week!) minus about six inches he would grow in the next couple of years, a girl who ended up being the most evil person I’ve ever accidentally befriended, and my three best girlfriends (including this one).

6 :: A trip to the pharmacy. Also, since I was getting something boring, I treated myself to Moroccan Oil, which is apparently a miracle substance. I’ll also report back on that.

7 :: The old camera cord, which Baxter pulled into his crate and ate while we were at dinner. I was so worried he’d eaten metal, but so far he’s, ah, regular.

8 :: Except he puked on the bed and then the carpet. The vet has been notified; they think he’s fine. (He’s sort of a pukey dude, so this wasn’t super out-of-the-ordinary.)

9 :: The best – BEST – kitchen item I’ve used in a long time. A must for small families who don’t use all of their fresh herbs in one meal.

10 :: A gift from my incredible and well-read mother-in-law. The title is true. I will cut you with my intellect.

11 :: After Bax puked on the bed, it’s been hard to re-make. Not sure why. But it’s wayyy less satisfying to get into an unmade bed, so I fixed that situation rull fast after I took the photo.

12 :: I bought two of these. They changed my life. I would like ten more.

Wanna do 12of12, or see what it looks like when a real photographer does it? Here.

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled programming

…to recognize the most brilliant, gorgeous, and strong role model a girl could ask for. Her name is Susan Wiggs, but I call her Mommy. Many of you know her through her books, but if you’ve ever been around her in person you know how funny, smart, and absolutely vivacious she is.

Not a day goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars for my Mommy. She’s my best friend.

{Okay, and, let’s talk about the elephant in the room: she’s HOT. Like, bodacious. Like, heads-turning-on-the-street gorge. If I didn’t love her so much I’d want to claw her eyes out with jealousy.}

Oscar Wilde said, “As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly satisfied.” Well, I see one satisfied lady in the photo above.

Oh, by the way

Some of your questions on my formspring were awesome. One person asked me how many boyfriends I had before Dave (13) and I got to take a walk down memory lane, all the way back to Andy in kindergarten who dumped me for a girl who had the same name as a hurricane.

Feel free to head on over and keep the hilarious questions coming. So far I haven’t felt weird about a single one (which is saying a lot, because anonymity brings out the crazy in people).

Moist…ure

You know how sometimes you’re having a conversation with a friend, and she says something really heavy, like “When I’m feeling lonely I eat my own hair”? And then you realize that you need to drop everything and be there for her, so you spend a couple of minutes talking about your deepest darkest emotions so she doesn’t feel alone? Maybe you share your own hair-eating experiences, like, “Oh hun, it’s okay, I eat my own hair too. Let’s help each other through it.” And maybe your friend sheds a tear or two before sniffling that you’re so great, and you’ve made her feel so much better. And then there’s nothing more to say about eating hair, so it’s time to change the subject. But the previous topic is still hanging in the air and you feel like a bad person for moving on to something less deep, like how you just bought the cutest pair of shoes at Nordstrom last week. You know what I’m talking about?

Yeah, and that’s where we are right now. I dropped an emo bomb on your asses and now it’s like…are we really going to go back to talking about makeup and adventures in the kitchen and failed workout attempts?

Yes. Yes we are. So let’s just power through it. You people are amazing and wonderful and made me really glad I opened up to you about my shizz. In return, I’m going to use the word “moist” as much as possible in this post (fun fact about my mom: the way most people feel about the word “moist” is the way my mom feels about the word “zest.” I don’t get it but I torture her with it on the regs).

So, moist. Why am I saying moist so much? Because you have all asked for lotion recommendations (presumably because you want your skin to be nice and moist, but not too moist, but moist enough to glow). And as a beauty product junkie, I’ve got some moist opinions. Moist.