Posted On January 5, 2015 By In Internet, Lifestyle, The Scene

New Year’s Resolutions for Your Social Media

 
 

I used to think that the term “young adult” referred to Twilight novels only, but I am tired of repeatedly crediting my generation as “twenty-somethings,” so here we are. New Year’s resolutions are either a popular or vexatious topic, depending on the seriousness of the declarations and the audience’s own commitment to growth and change, but there is hardly a young adult who doesn’t use social media in some form or another. In this Near Year if you make any resolutions, I hope you dance, yes, but also that your resolutions are of the social media variety because gagging during my commute while on Facebook to avoid the homeless man’s leer on the bus isn’t good for my digestive system. Here are some social media habits you would be better off abandoning and some possible alternatives to please your social circles instead.

 

1.  Abandon: The drinks. No, no, not the actual alcohol, but the pictures of it. I know you drink, I drink, your grandmother drinks, my grandmother drinks, everyone drinks. But you’re not even close to twenty-one anymore. Your cheers, your shots, your cocktails with food items (even if it is pork residue of some sort) are as irrelevant on my newsfeed as a photograph of a glass of water.

Alternative: Your candy consumption. Let us see those gummy bears you ate for breakfast, or your ring-pop you stole from your Lyft driver and shared with four other people that night.

 

 

2.  Abandon: The before and after depictions of your juice. No one would like to know what your kale looks like in liquid form. Or your carrot. Or your gross banana. Or what color they all make when mixed together. I don’t need to know that you squeezed every ounce of juice from an entire garden at the exact moment I was eating a piece of pepperoni pizza for breakfast that wasn’t even room temperature.

Alternative: Eat more burritos, at more meal value, more calorie value and or equal or lesser value to your garden breakfast and Instagram its size in comparison to a newborn baby. Talk about R E S P E C T.

 

 

 3.  Abandon: The Boyfriend-agrams. He made your bed. He got you a flower. He made you a fucking meatball! Does the world need a collage montage of the meatballs, of him and then of you eating the meatball? This is as asinine as a collage Instagram of your sex life: Here is our bed before sex, and after sex, and here is the towel we used to wipe up the wet spot.

Alternative: I dare you  to embrace some creativity with the portrayal of your relationship. Share your boyfriend’s toenail clipping that he leaves on the coffee table after arranging them into the shape of a heart. Caption: Silver lining of living with a slob: body part art!

 

 

 4.  Abandon: Non-humble brags about celebrations that you hardly qualify for or organically celebrate. This includes Dia de los Muertos and Hanukah (You are not Jewish and though you may have a menorah, I know you have foreskin).

Alternative: Celebrate your cavities! Celebrate your normal pap smear! Hang that on the fridge and tweet it.

 

 

5.  Abandon: The engagement photographs involving petals, holidays, puppy(ies), sand, and/or champagne. What a lovely matter to socially announce that you want to be together forever, but any originality would be appreciated as one is forced to adopt some humor for the situation and stamp each Christmas Instagram with a “Marry Christmas!” on it in a pathetic attempt to be pun-y. (Get it, get it?)

Alternative: Drop the hint to a best friend or two that you would like to be proposed to at In and Out on a French fry.

Tags : , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Equally lovely and ferocious in nature, Allyson Darling resides in San Francisco. She writes nonfiction essays about sex, relationships, and pantries (and sometimes about having sex in pantries).

Сomments аrchive