Most humans say “it’s all in the details.” It’s amusingly strange that humans, in general, would or could have an opinion about a wedding that isn’t theirs, but that’s just part of life, I suppose.

For a New Year’s Eve wedding I wanted a classy, shiny theme sans any prom glitter circa ’05. To accomplish this goal, I focused on mercury glass and quirky details.


With clocks counting down until midnight, guests were surrounded with subtle reminders that they were – in fact – at a New Year’s Eve party where the hosts just happened to be getting married.


All guests were asked to wear their favorite little black dress (or suit). Why? Why not. It was New Year’s Eve.


My dress brought me out of my comfort zone (Maggie Sottero). Sparkles? This girl?


For a day. It was, after all, New Year’s Eve.


Frank once said, “orange is the happiest color.” He speaks the truth. With guests asked to wear black, my dress and bouquet became the center of attention. Of course, I knew this was part of being the bride, but it didn’t keep me from running for a glass of wine, or two.

Bride Bouquet Dad's Locket
One aspect of life I will never take for granted is that I had a really great dad to give me chunky cheeks, a big laugh and a great family. He passed the baton to another really great dad, who raised me to be a pretty decent human. (that’s what he tells me, anyway.) Thanks to a really sweet gift from my cousin, they were both able to walk me down the aisle.

[Locket: Joyfully Renewed]

Bride Shoes | Betsey Johnson
Soles Betsey Johnson pumps were blue.


Kate Spade earrings were new.


This fiercely coveted ring served as my something borrowed, while the orange handkerchief was my something old.


The cake was designed to fit our personalities. Interpret as you wish.


Although the details were nice, they’re not what I’m going to remember. I’m going to remember swiping Glenn’s glass of Woodford during pre-ceremony pictures, not being surprised when Travis opted to turn his vows into an extemperanous soliloquy, giggling because I worked “outkicked my coverage” into my vows, dancing to Whitney Houston, looking around the room for help because we didn’t know how to cut the cake and raising my hands in victory as the Grove Park Inn’s lobby cheered for us as we walked to the wedding suite.




Photographer: Blue Bend Photography
Venue: The Omni Grove Park Inn Historic Country Club
Cake: Cakes by Jane 
Flowers: The Omni Grove Park Inn Florist

On December 31, 2013 – yes, New Year’s Eve – I outkicked my coverage with the man who highly encourages the use of coasters, loves exploring the world as much as I do and who not only accepts my abstract-randomness, but also finds it endearing. (that’s what he claims, anyway) He’s the man who decided while standing in front of an intimate group of friends and family that his vows didn’t quite make the cut, and shot from the hip.

That one sentence is indicative of our wedding weekend. We just went with it.

Planning an extremely intimate wedding was not all the stress Pinterest made it out to be. We focused on what came after the wedding and our top three wedding musts: photographer, venue and music.

As you can tell, our photographer wins all the awards. Nick at Blue Bend Photography is one of the nicest humans I’ve ever met and is talented beyond belief.

We chose the historic Omni Grove Park Inn because of its intricate details and historical significance to our new state. This historic resort hotel on the western-facing slope of Sunset Mountain within the Blue Ridge Mountains, celebrated its 100th birthday in 2013. Yes, we simultaneously celebrated our nuptials and the Grove Park Inn’s centennial.


The ambiance of the Grove Park Inn’s country club was only magnified with The Whiskey Rebellion, playing their signature hits in addition to covering The Band, Doc Watson, Avett Brothers and more.


For a few days we explored Asheville – eating incredible food, sampling local beers – and then their happened to be a wedding. What more could you want, really?

[invitation: Jon Cain]

Everyone should get married on New Year’s Eve. People dress like dimes and there’s always a built in party.

Mrs. H.
CEO of Team Haney.



Rural scenery is my drug of choice. Turns out, winter wheat is gateway drug into the world of row crops.

Returning from the beach, this canola field took my breath away. Gone. Breathing was just no longer an option while standing on the side of a [paved] country road, staring in wonder at the beauty of a canola field.

Rural America and all it encompasses — is the epitome of joy.

Once surrounded by winter wheat and black cattle, this rural-gone-urban girl needs scenes like this. Too often I get caught up in the hustle of urban living: the homes, ‘hoods and schedules.

Keep showing off, North Carolina. It looks good on you.

By nature, exploring my surroundings is intertwined into every fiber of my being. In Oklahoma, I was paid to explore. Yes, it was a real job.

This weekend, Stephanie flew to North Carolina for one of many girls’ weekends. Never will I take for granted meeting this girl at sixth grade lockers. She’s been instrumental in so many aspects of my life, it’s only natural she would support adventures in my new state.


Charlotte is geographically blessed. East for the ocean, west for the mountains: choose your adventure. We swiped right for Wilmington.

Staying on Carolina Beach was a strong choice. Like any girls’ weekend, we popped a bottle (or two) of champagne and solved the world’s problems as the ocean crashed against the shore. (Shout out to the stock the bar wedding shower!) Let’s level, I’ve never been a huge champagne drinker. I was wrong – so wrong. That stuff is delicious.


Downtown Wilmington encompasses everything one would want in a downtown: history, culture and the location of Brooke Davis’ Clothes Over Bros HQ. This weekend is was overflowing with visitors from all over the southeast for the North Carolina Azalea Festival. You guys know how much I love festivals. Talking to people about their history and their business is by far my favorite thing in the world.


Unknowingly, the rest of our day was predetermined with a simple purchase. Destiny by way of coasters, if you will. Read as: piers and dive bars are how to really experience Wilmington.

Because until you see the moon rising over the Atlantic Ocean…


… and drink a local beer with your best friend in a dive bar…

… you haven’t truly experienced Wilmington.




Links to help plan a Wilmington getaway:
Visit North Carolina: Wilmington and It’s Island Beaches
Wilmington and Beaches CVB


Like most of the female population, I dream of Lucchese kicks, Tory Burch bags and a wardrobe fitting of Kate, Kacey and Khloe.

For a spring wedding in Texas Hill Country, my online window shopping kept arriving at the same conclusion: the dresses I covet are out of my league. The struggle is real, y’all.

What’s this dress, you ask? Just a Vince Camuto I picked up from Marshalls. What’s he wearing? Not a clue. Fortunately, I’m not his keeper.

Unfortunately, the dress didn’t make it through the night unscathed. While attempting to set a photobooth record, the dress suffered minor injuries. RIP, lovely Marshalls find.


Traveling tip: pack for the forecast, otherwise you may wear a denim shirt to a wedding. Life tip: surround yourself with beautiful friends.





Austin and such.

04.11.14 — 1 Comment

“It’s time.”

These two words upgraded my professional life from a cubicle (sans natural lighting) to a shared office space overlooking Charlotte’s SouthPark area. For this rural-gone-urban girl who dreams of winter wheat, black cattle and Oklahoma’s blue sky – this was a game changer. With this simple change, creativity has walked back into my life like a tall drink of water from west Texas.

I really missed you, creepers. I miss writing you of my adventures, and the fault is mine. It’s a hard life as a social media manager – being “on” all day and writing a hobby blog at night. How does one make time for Rose, Sophia, Dorothy and Blanche?

Moving on.

view of SouthPark Mall

Thursday – new office. Friday – travel to Austin.

We (uhg. the married “we”) explored Austin this past weekend. Swoon. Austin encompasses everything I love in the world: music, minimal trees and all the Mexican food.

On Sunday, Mary married Joseph.

Mary Kate Scott, Kirby Smith, Brooke Haney

(insert all the jokes)

Photo Booth

New rule: all weddings must have photobooths.

BREAKING: I’ve decided it’s time to post about our wedding. The invitations, flowers, details. In my own way, of course.

Over & Out.

P.S. Austin, I still love you.

Without a space for projects to occupy my mind after a day at the box staring at a box, I’ve set my sights on the wonder of the kitchen. Although I’ve dabbled in kitchen foolery before, my heart never sincerely appreciated of the art and chemistry* of preparing a meal.

Each Sunday I scour over cookbooks – my mind weighing the value of ingredients based on knowledge of their location at the grocery. Logistics matter, you see.

Recipes, like music, are intertwined in the fiber of our genetic makeup. To me, lasagna screams of celebration, while meatloaf reminds me the toddler version of my now big-little brother.


We, two humans + a dog begging for scraps, gather around the table with our phones facing the hardwood. (Eventually, they’ll be banned. Probably.) Dinnertime is becoming the daily inquisition. It’s for bragging rights, celebrations and ‘did you sees’. It’s to listen, to share, to be.


We may never make it five consecutive meals at the dinner table again, and that’s okay; however, I cross my heart and kiss my elbow that we’ll make it to the table at least once a week. Even if it’s for cereal.

The food is the medium, a necessary guest. Conversations and memories by way of pot-roast, if you dare.

This week on the table:
Barbecue Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Broccoli
Chicken Tacos, Pdub’s salsa
Breakfast sandwiches: bacon, eggs & cheese.
Pot Roast

*I made perfect scores in Chem Lab. Thought you should know. You’re welcome.  

I’ve found humans desperately seek relationships. School – kindergarten, high school and college – sets us up for failure, really. You befriend those sitting beside you and commiserate with those in similar situations. It’s easy, comfortable.

In the real world, networking (personally or professionally) is an art. It’s intentional, time consuming and challenging. Similar to most things in life, you get what you put in.

As an adult in a new ‘hood making friends is imperative. Fortunately, Charlotte is a city of people from other places. Here, “where are you from?” is par for the course.

As fate would have it, a lovely gal, who I met at the Darius show in big D, moved to Charlotte within a month of my move last spring. She’s since organized a book club, and with five girls and three states represented, we’ve found a common thread in top-rated books and wine.

Medium rare, please.

Medium rare, please.

And steak. For Charlotte’s Queen’s Feast we made our way to BLT steak at the Ritz. Fancy.

We do read a book before each meeting, but it’s only on the docket for a few minutes. For what it’s worth, I do not recommend reading ‘The Husband’s Secret’ the month of your wedding.


Three years ago, I wrote a post titled ‘Resolutions.’ Wise at 24, it seems.

So much has changed in such a short amount of time, yet so many things remain the same – my resolutions, for instance.

I’m going to volunteer more,
Get off my bum and move,
Stop waiting for things to happen and live life today.

These resolutions are a continuous thread to my being as a human. Last year, I focused on surviving. Everything I had ever known changed and I wanted end the year knowing it didn’t get the best of me. If it were a challenge, I won.

Organizing my life.

Organizing my life.

This year, I’m adding one more line: live life intentionally.

We’re given 24 hours in a day. The same amount as Beyoncé*, in fact. We can choose to fill those precious minutes however we see fit.

Give more? Spend more time with family? Schedule down time? It’s up to us, man. Let’s use our allotted time wisely.

*Feel free to insert an individual of your choosing. This morning I’m just particularly found of Beyoncé’s tunes.

Humans (all of them) have questioned the status of my new marriage at an alarming rate. So much, in fact, I’m beginning to question if we’re doing this right. You know, marriage.

According to feedback, my “good” reaction isn’t good enough. Apparently, I missed when things went from black and white to ROYGBIV. Here’s the deal, it’s completely and tremendously normal. (It’s fantastic)

There are, however, the vows we made before God. That, my friends, was (is) a really big deal. It also fuels my laughter when T suggests I pick up the seven pairs of shoes at the back door. See this, sir? You get this forever.

Our normal is trying new restaurants, like The Liberty in Southend. From the exterior, I wasn’t impressed. It just didn’t look like my type of place. I’m not entirely sure what “my” type of place is, but low maintenance is high on the list.

The Liberty in Southend

Inside, the venue is smart, witty even. We chose a seat in the bar, a benefit of a life sans kids. You get me, Liberty.

The burger was scrumptious, the wine (of the Sonoma Valley) was perfect and the view of college ‘hoops was just as expected.

We laugh, a lot: I’m awkward and he’s quick on his words. He ghostwrites my tweets and I plot new adventures.

This is our normal. Married life, it’s grand.