Monthly Archives: February 2011

‘Til death or Ryan Reynolds do us part

I remember it as though it were yesterday. It was my first day of work at my first newspaper. I passed him on my way to the time card machine and remember thinking to myself…

“Man, that guy is cute. Too bad he’s gay.”

Years later, he would tell me he remembered that moment as well, thinking to himself…

“Man, what a hottie. Too bad she looks like a bitch.”

Ah, yes, it’s the kind of stuff that fairytales are made of. Or at least the stuff that a meet-cute in a crappy Katherine Heigl movie are made of.

 From co-workers to friends to roommates to  whirlwind romance to marriage to, come tomorrow, our one-year anniversary, Ryan and I have steadily evolved and, as he so eloquently puts it, kept moving forward, ass backwards.

It hasn’t always been easy. After only a month or so of dating (which, considering we were roommates, got a bit awkward during those “first thing in the morning have to pee” encounters in the hallway) he got a job in Texas and asked me to move with him and leave my Ohio hometown behind. Naturally, I said no. What, do I look crazy? I hardly knew the guy.

A week later, I said yes.

Five years later, he got a job in Boston. This time I said yes immediately (You know how many Irish pubs they have here? What, do I look crazy?).

As for what the future holds? Who knows? But the one thing I do know is that I’ll follow him again if need be. As I said in my vows, he is my home (although lets hope Boston sticks for awhile…I mean, it’s going to take awhile to hit up all those pubs).

But for now, I’m just going to celebrate what is and look back at was. Below I’ve posted our actual wedding announcement, which ran last year in the Victoria Advocate, the Texas paper we both worked at (which is the ONLY reason I was allowed to get away with it). 

Miss Aprill “Danger” Brandon and Mr. Ryan “Schnookum Bear” Huddle, both of Victoria, were married on Feb. 28, 2010 at Vintage Villas in Austin. The Rev. John Connor (sadly, not the same guy from the “Terminator” movies) officiated the double-ring ceremony.

The bride is the spawn of Mr. and Mrs. Albert and Maria Wray, originally of Ohio but who currently reside in Christchurch, New Zealand (it should be noted they did not ask their daughter to move with them… the jerks). She is the granddaughter of Mrs. Mary Ahlers of Coldwater, Ohio.

The groom is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Garry and Kathy Huddle, of Hutchinson, Kansas.

Misty “M-Woww” Weidner and Michelle “Broccoli” Gockley attended as maids of dishonor. Bridesmaids were Andrea “I ate bugs as a kid” Myers, Traci “Baroness Von Awesome” Robb, and Adriana “The Mexican Snooki” Zavala. Sydney Robb and Kiera Robb, nieces of the groom, attended as flower girls.

Bob “Bob” Zavala served as best man. Groomsmen were Brandon “Blu” Wray, Billy “Willy Foo Foo” Robb, Benjamin “Bruce” Kies and Dan “He’s my boss so I won’t give him a funny nickname” Easton. Jackson Garman, second cousin, or possibly a cousin once removed (who can really keep all the family connections straight, eh?) of the bride, served as ring bearer.

A wicked awesome party was held following the ceremony at the same location, where the beer flowed like wine. The couple then left for their six-day honeymoon in New Orleans, where they learned a valuable lesson about imbibing on too many hurricane drinks.

The bride is a 2004 graduate of Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. She currently works for this very newspaper, which made the horrible mistake of letting her write her own wedding announcement. Her future plans involve eating bon-bons all day, starting a muumuu collection and possibly adopting a monkey, which she will name Winston.

The groom is a graduate of Arizona State University and Collins College in Phoenix, Arizona. He is also currently employed at this very newspaper but was not previously aware of this wedding announcement nor its content (Ha! He is now). His future plans include buying his new wife a bunch of new shoes and shiny things and futilely trying to prevent her from adopting said monkey.

To read my anniversary column to Ryan (in which I ruthlessly make fun of him), click here.

Road trippin’

They say a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Ours started with an overstuffed Hyundai Accent, two huge tubs o’ coffee, an overly stimulated and highly neurotic dog, and a giant snowstorm that stretched from Texas to New England (which coincidentally was exactly where we were headed).

Schnookum Bear and I were headed to our new life in Boston with a bang.

Now, I’ve always loved road trips. From Ohio to North Carolina to see my aunt as a kid. From Ohio to Florida on spring break. From Texas to Kansas to visit in-laws.

But South Texas to Boston? That was the motherload.

(Illustration by Julie Zavala)

Three days. 2,000 miles. 14 states. 57 potty breaks (thanks to my husband’s freakishly small bladder, which I estimate to be about the size of a baby grasshopper). 325,000 calories worth of fast food. 16 “my life just flashed before my eyes” moments. And one souvenir “Welcome to Fabulous Alabama” t-shirt (only $4.99 with purchase of 16 oz. Slurpee).

And BOOM. There was the Boston skyline.

For all the gory details about our road trip to Boston, check out my latest column here.

So…um, welcome and junk

So the “Chick Writes Stuff” title…too cutesy? I wasn’t sure. I’ve been a writer and columnist by trade for about seven years now, but this is my first foray into my own website/blog (I also just got on the Tweeter and the MyFace!). And after scouring mountains of ridiculous website pages for tips on what to name your blog (Make it unique! Make it you! Make it something everyone in the world can totally relate to so you can totally score a book deal and movie rights!) I grew frustrated and just typed in the first thing I could think of.

Plus, it’s a pretty accurate name. I am indeed a chick who writes stuff.

And so this blog is dedicated to documenting all my new adventures (and shamelessly promoting my newspaper humor column, the archives of which you can check out HERE!… and yes, yes I do feel dirty now) and my attempts, at the age of 29, to figure out how to survive adulthood in general (I mean, beyond my current solution of perpetual happy hour).