Archive for May, 2009

May 30, 2009

The Evolution of Wiggs-n-Dave: Part 4

Last time, in Wiggs-n-Dave land, Wiggs was beginning to feel reeeeally sketched out by Dave. He was always absent, always taking secret phone calls, never able to spend his free time with her. She finally started wondering what the EFF was going on. And she also got a little bit feisty about the fact that they’d been together for almost three years, were planning on moving to Chicago for Dave to attend law school, and she didn’t really understand where things were going. Here’s a photograph from around that time which illustrates the level of confusion I was feeling:


Fast-forward to March 2008. Picture this conversation between my mom and me, as I strolled home from work nine days before my twenty-fourth birthday. Dave had told me that he would be working late that evening, so I planned on having a phone-marathon with my mom and then meeting some girlfriends for happy hour.

“What do you want for your birthday, honey?” she asked me.

“Well, I feel like I shouldn’t say this or I’ll jinx it…” I began, “but all I really want is for Dave to propose to me.”

I could hear my mom snort. “He’s not going to,” she said in her most matter-of-fact, I-know-everything voice. “Trust me. I would know. Your father is incapable of keeping a secret from me, and he hasn’t said a word about a proposal.”

“But…maybe Dave’s just being really secretive…?”

“Nope. Sorry, hun. We’ll just have to work on him this summer.” With that statement, she embarked on one of her classic Susan Wiggs-style lectures on all of the ways we would subtly guide Dave into asking me to marry him. Here’s a picture of me and my mom looking suuuuper manipulative together:


Some of the suggestions she had for me included a conference call with his mother, a forced-march to the jewelry store, an ultimatum, or, her favorite, “Just blame it on me! Tell him that I’m not comfortable with you guys living in Chicago together if he hasn’t proven his commitment to you.” Of course this last one was bogus; my parents loved Dave like a son already. But my mom writes about romance for a living. She knows the right buttons to push to get results.

Still, I hesitated. I didn’t want to push My One into doing something that he wasn’t comfortable with. My mom kept jabbering away with more ideas for Project Proposal, but as she gained momentum I kind of started tuning her out. 

But wait, there’s more!!! …next time.

May 29, 2009

The Evolution of Wiggs-n-Dave: Part Trois

Last time we saw our lovely blondes, they were just starting to realize that thier connection was going to be something friggin’ special. Wiggs and Dave were huddled in a corner at a kegger, sharing deep dark secrets, and wondering where this was headed.

…I ended up spending the night with him that night, but it was a slumber party in the most innocent sense of the word. We stayed up till 4am talking and laughing. Just before we fell asleep, Dave asked me if I wanted to brush teeth with him – he had an extra toothbrush. So we wandered into the bathroom, brushed our pearly whites, then returned to his dorm room and shared our first kiss. It was minty and sweet. Then we went to sleep. That’s IT. I SWEAR. As I crept away in the morning, I could hear his teammates giving him crap about his new girl, but I heard him say, “Dude, she’s awesome. Let’s go to Denny’s.” SWOON! Denny’s!


A few months and some more minty kisses later, Dave and I both knew that we had found something special. I told him he was my puzzle piece, and he knew exactly what I meant. When we were thinking about our post-college plans, we both agreed that moving to Seattle together would be friggin’ awesome. So that’s what we did. Without even meaning to or having any serious talks about it, we began living together. The only fights we had were in the kitchen, when he caught me putting mustard in pasta sauce (which is AWESOME by the way, and if he didn’t see me doing it he would love it). Our condo was across the street from two of our dear friends and fellow Claremont Colleges graduates, Jesse and Molly. He learned how to fold laundry and I learned how to cook meals for one giant man and one small girl. We watched Jeopardy every night and splurged on a nice dinner once a month when our paychecks arrived. We made each other laugh every single day. For a year and a half, I lived in a bubble of pure happiness.


However. Somtime around November of 2007, Dave started getting a bit sketchy. We used to meet for lunch every day because we worked four blocks from each other – but suddenly he was always at a lunch meeting, or always unable to take time to meet me. I knew what a busy time this was for him, and did my best to support him. But I won’t lie, I missed him. During this time, he also got into all of the law schools he applied to and we ended up deciding to move to Chicago the following fall. Though the move was nearly a year away, I felt like I was being wrenched away from everyone I loved to go hang out in some cold-ass city with nothing to do.

Then March of 2008 rolled around and he became even MORE sketchy. He was always working late and getting all of these mysterious text messages and calls that he would take in the other room with the door closed. I was confused, but trusted him implicitly. We still watched Jeopardy every night and fell asleep giggling together, so I knew things weren’t THAT bad. 

To be continuuuueeeedddd!!!!

May 28, 2009

Half-marathon training: Days 84, 85, 86, 87, 88

Sadly, since I’m in San Diego AT MY BACHELORETTE PARTY right now, I don’t have photos for you from my workout. Soooo…I’m just going to list what I did each day for the two of you who are following my training progress slowly.

Day 84: 3-mile run

Day 85: Lots of walking? That’s lame to count as a workout, but that’s what I did. A set of abs, too.

Day 86: 3-mile run, during which time we stopped by the home of one of Dave’s coworkers and saw his newwww babyyyy!!! SQUEEEEEEEAL!!! I think Dave had a mini-heart attack when he saw my reaction to the teeny weeny little cherub.

Day 87: A hardcore glute exercise on the airplane (I’m talking about panicked clenching here, people), followed bya  5-mile run along Mission Beach here in San Diego

Mission Beach(source)

Day 88: 6-mile run along the beach with my little Kirsten, aka the best senior-year college roommate of all time.

Can I talk about how amazing it is to have a bachelorette party? I feel like I’m in heaven with all of these incredible women around me. Get ready for some hilarious recaps.

May 28, 2009

The Evolution of Wiggs-n-Dave: Part 2

When we left our fated couple, we were hanging on the edge of our seats. Was Dave The One for Wiggs? Or was he a run-of-the-mill, B.O.-smelling college guy? Wiggs, our heroine, had returned home for the Thanksgiving Break to get her love-life sorted out by the world’s best source for romantic insight and advice: a romance novelist.


I showed Dave to my mom on facebook, because she likes to stalk my friends with me. When a phone call took me out of the room where we were exchanging dirt on all of my college friends, I left her logged in as me. Five minutes later, I re-entered the computer room and caught a guilt-laden expression on my mother’s face. “What does ‘poking’ mean?” she asked warily. 

“Oh, GOD MOM, what did you do?”

“Well, this young David here just looks so gorgeous so I poked him…but I don’t want him to think you’re easy. Is he going to think you’re a [whisper] slut?”

I quickly got over my mortification when I received a message from him: “Don’t tease me.”

Facebook message

This began a completely witty and hilarious back-and-forth that lasted the rest of Thanksgiving Break, so that by the time I got back to school I was rarin’ to catch me a Canadian. 

First things first: I snuck up behind him in the lunch room and sniffed him. No body-odor. Thank the lord. Turns out that he was just one of the unfortunate victims who got painted with the B.O. brush for being on the cross-country team (who, it must be said, didn’t exactly smell like roses after a workout). One fateful night, I went to a party thrown in his suite and spent six hours huddled in the corner with him, our beers long since forgotten, talking to each other about our deepest darkest secrets. It was amazing. I could feel something clicking into place…but it would be a while before I recognized what it all meant.

To be continued….

May 27, 2009

The Evolution of Wiggs-n-Dave: Part 1

Lots of people have asked me to tell the story of how Dave and I met. Here’s the one-sentence version: We met at Pomona College and started dating our senior year. Ta-daaaa!!! 

I’d be cruel to leave it at that, especially when there are many juicy details that are left out.

Let’s rewind a bit to junior year of college. Dave and I knew OF each other, since our school only had 1500 students, but had never really interacted on a personal level. He spent that semester abroad at Oxford University, and when he returned the following fall of our senior year he had grown about 6 inches – both in height and in hair. The 5’9″, crew-cut, blonde kid was now a 6’4″ flowing-haired Adonis. Women all over the Claremont Colleges fanned themselves when he glided by.

dead sexy dave

dead sexy dave 1

Did your heart just flutter a little bit? Yeah. Thought so. I should have warned you.

At the time, my roommate was dating a close friend of his. I asked her what she thought of Dave, since she ran in his track-centric circle, and her immediate response was, “No way, Wiggs. He’s not a relationship guy. He hasn’t had a girlfriend the whole time we’ve been in college.” Other sources agreed and disagreed in varying amounts, and by the time I went home for Thanksgiving Break, I knew, without a doubt, that Dave was either a) a total sweetheart, b) a track-head who was only interested in beer and his friends, c) abnormally intelligent, or d) the unfortunate owner of a strong and problematic body-odor. 

So…what’s your guess? Was he a, b, c, d, or some combination of the four? You’ll find out the results in the next installment of The Evolution of Wiggs-n-Dave.

In the interest of fairness, here’s a picture of me from around the same time. You can tell that I was a) very mature and b) completely ready for a serious commitment.

senior year

May 27, 2009

Ingreeds for an awesome afternoon

Random May 068

Let’s look at the list here, shall we?

Tags: ,
May 27, 2009

Pardon me, sir, do you mind if I grip the crap outta your arm and cry in your face?

I’m staring right now at the poor soul who I’m pretty sure will be sitting next to me on the airplane this morning. He has no idea what he’s in for. He’s just sitting there, typing on his MacBook Air, bouncing his loafered foot, adjusting his Gucci reading glasses. I mean, people, he’s classy. Which is why I feel bad that for the next two hours, I’m going to be flapping my hands and moaning with fear while he’s trying to read this week’s issue of The Economist. 

But do you know what I DON’T feel bad about? The fact that I’m headed to San Diego, aka the site of one of the milestones in my life and in this whole wedding business: my bachelorette party. 

Here are some highlights from my past San Diego trips:

san diego

Note where the ball is headed in this one. I wasn’t cut out for rugby.

san diego 1

And then here are some moments of fame for me, when I garnered local attention for my rendition of “Gangsta’s Paradise” at the Camel’s Breath Karaoke Bar:

san diego 2

Yep. It’s gonna be great, if past trips are any indication. 

This post also serves as a kick-off to my two-month countdown for the wedding. I’m going to start sharing some of my wedding details with you people because, well, many of you have asked for it and also my brain has been completely consumed by it of late. Stay tuned!

May 27, 2009

Half-marathon training: Days 82 & 83

Day 82 was such a non-event for me in terms of working out that I don’t even remember what I did. That’s sad. So we’ll just count it as a rest day, and I’ll secretly tell myself I did a 6-mile run so I can pretend I earned some extra credit. 

But then. Oh, people. Saturday was a day…which will live…in infamy. Let’s talk about the leg-hair first, shall we?

Random May 004

See, upon first glance you’d THINK that the point of this picture is to show off my sweet new shin-braces, and sure, maybe that was the photographer’s goal. But all I see here is a fine aura of fairy-spun golden tendrils adorning my legs like stardust. I don’t know why anyone would EVER take a razor to this beauty. (That’s some foreshadowing for my next post.)

May 21, 2009

Half-marathon training: Days 78, 79, 80, and 81

Great scot, friends, I’ve really fallen down on my half-marathon training blog duties. This is in large part due to the fact that my workouts are starting to run together (HAHA I MADE A PUN WITHOUT EVEN TRYING!). But this week has had some twists for me and I would like to share them with all of you lovelies.

Hill workout! 003

Monday, Day 78, Molly invited me to do a hill workout with her. This basically entailed a short warmup, followed by running up the quarter-mile-long hill pictured above and jogging (or should I say “yogging”) back down. In all, it was 2 miles of pure h-e-double-hockeysticks. Molly was almost embarrassingly faster than me, especially on the last rep when I passed a nine-week-old cockapoo puppy and was forced to stop for some face-licking and cuddle time. I asked her to take a picture of me after she finished the last climb. Instead of being the harrowing portrait I envisioned of my struggles, it’s pretty much evidence of how far behind I got. Oh well.

Hill workout! 004

Why do I always look like I’m power-walking when my running buddies snap photos of me? Because it sure as eff doesn’t feel like power-walking.

May 20, 2009

Some thoughts on weight-loss

I stepped on the scale this morning and saw a number I haven’t seen since college: 120. Part of me felt pretty great about it, because I’m not very good at being able to see weight-gain or weight-loss in the mirror. It’s too gradual, and I’m too blonde. 


(I know this is a repeat image, but I chose it because it's the first picture I've seen of myself since I started training where I can TELL that I'm smaller than I used to be.)

(I know this is a repeat image, but I chose it because it's the first picture I've seen of myself since I started training where I can TELL that I'm smaller than I used to be.)


On the other hand, though, I still feel a bit dissatisfied with the state of my bod. There are still some areas I’d loooove to change. So this is a big lesson for me: the number on the scale is only part of the story. More important than your poundage is how you feel in your own skin. I know lots of women don’t weigh themselves at all, and I applaud that. I’m too good at convincing myself that my clothes still fit when I’m stuffing myself into them with a crowbar, though, so I have found the scale to be a useful tool in tracking my progress. 

I believe that weighing oneself is a personal decision that takes a lot of introspection and insight. A scale can be a slippery slope if you’re the type to get obsessive and start flagellating yourself when you gain a pound after an indulgent weekend. But it can also be a quick way to keep yourself on track if you’re able to maintain a healthy perspective on your body and your fitness. There have been times during the past few months where I’ve intentionally stayed off the scale. I knew I had probably gained a couple of pounds and I didn’t want to feel guilt and anxiety (which can lead to unhealthy behavior) over it. During those times, it was easier to just concentrate on having a good workout and making sure that I was giving my body exactly what it needed, food-wise.

Although I’ve always been pretty active, the big turning point for me in losing the extra weight has been changing my diet.