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What are they, exactly?

Hell, I am literally a nerd compared to all my friends and I have a mental breakdown every other week over the dumbest shit. Being an ENFP is weird. How I talk to my friends vs how I talk to everybody else. What do ENFPs idealize about others, in terms of both romantic relationships and friendships? Queue is a list of posts that go live on a pre-defined timetable. You can change the number of queued posts that go live in a day, and restrict the posts to certain hours.

But, if you are not a graphic designer or someone who knows how to create one, where do you turn? Read More is to use a custom theme on your Tumblr blog. If your programming skills are a little rusty, you can use one of the hundreds of free themes in the Tumblr store. On the new page, click on Browse Themes to see what else is available. As you become more proficient at using the platform, you might start to regret some of your earlier posts. Not necessarily because the content is terrible, but because you made organizational errors.

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

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Did you know that? I shake my head. She shivers, her scar glowing a bright pink against the dark of her skin.

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She takes my hands in her hands, and puts all of our hands in her coat pockets. The tree is laid to rest in the sun, she says. And the rough outer bark is peeled away. The cinnamon is the layer underneath. Right there, under the surface; a thin delicate layer, quietly waiting to be uncovered.

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She squeezes both my hands in her pockets and smiles. I lean in to do something about it.

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I was lucky enough to travel all over the country and the world this year, but not lucky enough to have any control over what I saw or did. This year was a lot of big life events, defined - as all big life events end up being - by small bright moments: Winning an Emmy, but dancing with my mom and sister at the party. Chasing my nephew around the yard. Reading a book outside on a Sunday morning.


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These moments are as sweet as frozen grapes from the vine. They got me through this year. When I was a kid, I had this pocket watch.

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It kept terrible time. But I would wind it up and press it to my ear, listening to the soft tickticktickticktickticktick for what seemed like hours. I would imagine that ticking as the gears of The Universe at work; throwing stars and planets into orbit, black holes spinning around each other out in space, life on distant worlds crawling from primordial ooze.

Troublemaking — I’m seriously dating myself here, but in that

The soft ticking would measure out atoms and electrons smashing into each other, their explosions weaving the very fabric of reality - these epic events and more were all constructed from the all powerful Hand of Time that controlled Existence Entire from deep inside the mechanical heart of my one very own miraculous timepiece.

Creation, Destruction, life being created on other planets - I had nothing to do with any of that, obviously. I was just sitting alone in my bedroom listening to the ticking of a broken watch.