theglitterguide:

Did you make these adorable Fruit Kabob Place Cards this weekend for your dinner guests?

YES, of course I did. Then my friends immediately left because they thought this was the stupidest thing ever.

theglitterguide:

Did you make these adorable Fruit Kabob Place Cards this weekend for your dinner guests?

YES, of course I did. Then my friends immediately left because they thought this was the stupidest thing ever.

(Reblogged from theglitterguide)

People in small towns are awesome sometimes.

I present to you my dad’s selfie of the day. His FB game is waaaaay better than mine.

messily:

brightwalldarkroom:

"There are a handful of shows I ask everyone I talk to about television if they have seen: The Wire, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights. But when I ask them if they’ve watched and loved Friday Night Lights, what I mean is are you my kind of person? Are you all heart? Are you bothered by this 21st-century lack of earnestness, our abundance of irony? Do you wonder how we forgive and coach ourselves to do better? How we can strive again for valor and loyalty and daring and redemption? 

I fear we are defaulting to needless negativity as some kind of social currency. But Friday Night Lights is the most earnest show I’ve ever watched. Not sentimental, however: these characters aren’t perfect. In fact, this show is incredibly astute at allowing humans to have stratums of complexity: to have character and occasionally act without it, and then to live in the mire of their own dumb choices. Do I adore Coach? Yes. Do I think, as Tammy says, he is a molder of men and a husband of fierce devotion? Absolutely. Do I also think he can also be a self-involved, sexist prick who values his career over his wife’s? No question.

Regardless of the scale of the battle, the stakes in Friday Night Lights are rarely phony or contrived. It’s about winning games, sure, but its scope far exceeds that. This is a show that tests and reflects commitment not just on the football field, but back in the locker room. And in Street’s rehab room, and Saracen’s grandmother’s living room, and Julie’s bedroom, and eventually out to Luke’s farm and Tim’s prison and Tammy’s dream in Philadelphia. This commitment is not about obligation, but something more sacred. Duty. The hidden gale that blusters and grows within us and makes us yearn to give someone else exactly what they need.”

—Erica Cantoni on Friday Night Lights (Bright Wall/Dark Room, Issue #14, July 2014)

Texas forever.

(Reblogged from hellokatie)

So in the three months since D and I stopped dating, I’ve been on six first dates. All were one and dones. I’ve had two ex-boyfriends make re-appearances (nothing happened there either…there’s a reason they are exes). The only person I’ve met in the last three months who I even had some sort of interest in was a guy I met last week who in was in town visiting from NY and is six years younger than I am. I had a blast of weekend hanging out with him, but Monday morning came and the fun had to end. Life’s funny like that.

To be honest, I just haven’t really felt like moving on yet. The D break-up was one of the toughest I’ve had for some reason and I’ve basically spent the last few months being sad about it and not being able to “let it go”. It was nice to have those butterflies again and for once (in a long time) not spend most of the weekend thinking about where D was or what he was doing. This weekend was kind of the kick in the butt that I needed to move along, but it also reminded me of how lonely I’ve been the last few months. Now I just need a great guy (who preferably doesn’t live 700 miles away and is in somewhat my age range) to make an appearance. That’s not too much to ask, right?!

Today served as a reminder why I do not stay out until 4 am on school nights anymore.

I just put Cholula on a salad. Still not sure if I’m embarrassed or disappointed I hadn’t thought of this before.

I was browsing through Josh Murray’s (The Bachelorette) Instagram last night and thought this comment on his super serious quote was pretty hilarious.