Day XCIV: Snapchat

We are a generation of social media. Has anyone told you this? Apparently, a giant subset of humans--generally around my age and slightly younger--live more in the confines of Facebook and Instagram and Twitter than they do in their physical environment. Texting is how conversations work, phone calls are for emergency use only.

And if you're sending an email that isn't work related...

The golden days are over, ladies and gents, and we have ushered in the era of visual communication. 

And, god, am I fine with that.

Don't you ever wonder how we communicated without Snapchat? You know, last winter? Or how did you find your way around a convoluted city without Google maps? When did you first meet Siri? Do you remember what life was like without her condescending, robotic tone?

If you're not being retweeted, liked, double-tapped, tagged, or swiped right, WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?

I digress. Social media and technology have revolutionized our lives. And I am certainly not going to be the one to defend either end of the spectrum. It's neither good nor bad. It just is.

So rather than glorify our advances in communication or rant and rave about how great things used to be, I thought I'd share a few things I would never have learned without the assistance of one of my favorite apps, Snapchat. Photographic conversations--often aided with text and voice and art!--have become several of my daily highlights. And, god, what an easy way to stay in touch with your favorite people who may not be talkers or texters. You might not have the time to respond with sentences and feelings, but, dammit(!), you've got time to snap a pictorial representation.

You didn't come here to read anyway, right? You came here for the excitement and drama of the life of America's Favorite Twenty-Four Year Old!

Me!

This is Bernard. He's smoking a joint. His dreads are very pretty. He's not happy that I'm posting this because he thinks it's going to jeopardize is job.

It wont. Because he's a cat.

This is Sigmund Freud as a finger puppet. He hangs out in my window. When I was visiting my family in Colorado, Bernard expressed his pining for my presence by knocking Freud from his post. It was a sweet gesture, don't you think?

Kyle is my roommate. I haven't told him that I am gay yet. So, mostly, he tries to lure me out of the house with the promise of sex with women. And no one is believing it.

Ehren got a new dog and SWEET BABY JESUS (great name for a dog, right?) that little fluff muffin is effing adorable. It's not helpful that I received this snap right in the middle of my own puppy fever. There are some damn cute Saint Bernards in the area...

Well, yeah, Lauren. Who doesn't?

You know when your best friend has "big, beautiful, Spanish eyes" and wants to show them off under the thinly-veiled guise of struggling with a face mask? Yeah.

When my roommate Sibley wears a hat, zooms in tight, and contorts her face and smile: she does an incredible impression of Haley Joel Osment if he'd been gay and emo at fifteen years old. Just kills it.

I seriously need to come out to more people...

Couldn't Abby's cheekbones just cut you in fucking half?

Something really odd happened to Bethany after she moved from Minneapolis to Portland. But if SNL ever needs to reshoot the infamous Mom Jeans commercial, I know just the lady.

Vaughn sends a lot of snaps of him eating at work. I can't decide if the salami is supposed to have a face, or if he just tried and failed to get his tongue through the other holes.

Jenny Katz was the lucky recipient of an incredibly blessed pamphlet. Did you know that after praying, you can just mystically receive $47,000 to get back on your feet?! Me either.

Needless to say, I've been waiting for my Jesus Cash for a few days...










There are plenty more where that came from. And I think I may have found a new favorite feature...