13 Things You Post on Social Media That No One Gives A Fuck About

It’s Halloween. And, on Halloween we are all entitled to do frightening shit. Like write listicles.

I will admit when it comes to the following list, I am just as much a part of the cure as I am a part of the disease. (Sing it, Coldplay!) I’m guilty of having posted about several of these things, but now I see it as my God-given responsibility to make fun of those very things I once wrote about in 140 characters or less. Whether it’s a status update, a tweet or one of your beloved Instagram pics, here are 13 things nobody really gives a fuck about when you post them on social media.

Your breakfast, lunch or dinner
It still baffles me that people are posting pictures of food. Ok. You went to a restaurant. The food was scrumptious. I’ve been hitting up restaurants since my days of eating at Friendly’s when I was four; it’s not that serious. Eat the food. Poop it out. I love you and goodnight.

Your significant other
So my disclaimer here is that some public displays of baeness in moderation are fine. They’re actually cute. The issue is that how people define “moderation” varies widely among the human species. For me, moderation is maybe once a week. And, it helps if the public display of baeness is something funny or sarcastic. Missives about how you’re so in love should really be reserved for your diary or some other entity to which the rest of us don’t have to be subjected.

Your ex
Turn on Adele. Sing it out. Cry it out. Sweat it out. Write it out. Just don’t tweet it out.

Your flawless credit score
I really hate any conversation about finances, but that hatred increases tenfold when the conversation takes place on social media. Unless you’re my man or my mama, I’m not sharing my credit score. The only thing you need to know about my money is that I need more of it all the fucking time.

Your sex life
Congratulations. You joined the club. You’re getting laid. It’s a beautiful thing. We know. But, if you want to tweet about it in detail…instant unfollow.

Your hangover
I never understood this. When I’m hung over, I can’t even see straight enough to look at my phone without wanting to puke. If you can tweet, I am going to make an executive decision that you’re not that hung over.

social media we dont careYour cryptic reference to anything that you won’t fully explain (I just did this last week)
“Man, things couldn’t get any worse.” Does this mean I should worry or does this just mean you accidentally slept through Scandal? Like how bad are we talking? Are you going to tell me? No? Then get off Facebook!

Your trip to Whole Foods
What is it about Whole Foods that makes people want to tweet their way through grocery shopping? In the past two days, I’ve seen two tweets about Whole Foods trips. Take that shit off social media while the rest of us shop at Food Lion.

Your period
Another one of those common life occurrences that people can’t help but announce to the Internet. Pop some Advil, grab your heat pack thing, eat all the food in the house and hate the world quietly for the next few days.

Your rare illness, bug bite or trip to the emergency room
Not too long ago, my oldest niece put up an Instagram photo while she was at the emergency room. Pretty sure the bland walls of the ER aren’t the best backdrop for your selfie. Just saying. Also, I really hate when people post pictures of weird shit on their skin. Hit up Web MD and get that checked out. Instagram isn’t going to help you.

Your job interview
Tell me when you get the job. Then I can send the little confetti emojis.

Your workout
All your updates are making me want to do is plop in front of the television, inhale of bag of salt and vinegar chips and pray that my metabolism never abates.

Your night out
One photo? Cool. Ten photos? Punch yourself in the eye. Immediately. I will come to your residence right now and burn your freakum dress in a raging fire if you post more than two photos (max) of your night out.

Aren’t you proud of me? I didn’t even say kids.

Happy Halloween, fools.

Xoxo,
Tyece

Facebook Is Not Made of People

Guest Post by Anna Wickham

Many days, Facebook is my gateway to the outside world. When I’m finishing up my next blog post in my apartment on a Sunday morning, or just having a lazy Saturday, Facebook is often how I communicate with my friends and keep up with what’s new in their lives. It’s a great tool for these purposes, but it is sometimes too easy to compare our lives with those we see on our computer screen. Whether we’re “liking” our friends’ new job promotion, watching them turn the key on their brand new house, or clicking through photos from a recent beach vacation in the Caribbean, we sometimes compare others’ Facebook profiles to our crazy lives and feel inadequate.

But one revelation has helped me view social media in a brand new light, one that I think is far more healthy and more loving and more real. It is this:

Facebook is not made of people.

Here’s what Facebook is made of: images, videos, internet links, “likes,” comments, and messages. Just like our brain subconsciously assimilates stimuli to create a framework that means something to us, so Facebook assimilates photos, status updates, and the latest viral video to create a picture of an individual. But unlike the brain, which creates a picture of something real, Facebook creates a facade: a snapshot of a person that they curated themselves. A Facebook profile is not a person.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying there is anything bad about picking and choosing what to share publicly. I do this. If you have a Facebook profile (which, these days, is almost the same as saying, “If you have a pulse…” ), you do this. I certainly don’t blame anyone. If we are going to put our lives on display, we are going to do so in the most flattering light possible. The problem is that we tend to be hyper aware that we are doing this, but forget that 100% of our Facebook friends are doing it, too. I know that it’s a simple concept, but after it sinks in, it will totally change your mindset.

Here’s what I mean. Think about your best friend’s Facebook page. (Your best friend could be a guy, but for the sake of simplicity here, let’s assume your bff is a woman.) Her Facebook is not really her. It’s not the essence of who she is. It’s a collection of photos, words, and online content, all handpicked by her to represent her. Yes, in short, her Facebook profile is a representation of her. It’s like a hologram. It isn’t real.

But you know your best friend. I mean really know her. You’ve been there on her bad days and good days. You were there during her devastating breakup. You see her when her guard is down and she is truly being herself. You know where she comes from: her family, her hometown. And you know what? The real her, with all the flaws and imperfections, is more beautiful than the facade.

Women are especially prone to comparing ourselves with others through social media. Pressures to get married or have children, or simply to follow a certain trajectory in life can fill us with insecurity. But most of the time, we are comparing ourselves with someone who does not exist in real life. It’s like comparing yourself to a photoshopped picture of someone. You’ll take so much pressure off by realizing that things aren’t always as they seem.

While these social media holograms are useful and fun, and I’m glad for a lot of reasons that they exist, we have to keep in mind that behind each of those avatars is a vulnerable person with complexities, achievements, eccentricities, quirks, and disappointments. Just like us.

You are not your Facebook profile. No real people live in Facebook. You are your hopes and dreams, your fears, your failures, your successes. You are your opinions that you choose not to share with the world. You are your good days and your bad days. You are so much more than your online facade, and so are the people around you.

And reality is so much more beautiful.

AnnaWickham blogs about the millennial perspective in culture, travel, and music at The Worldly Blend. Follow her on Twitter and Google+.

9 Reasons Why Facebook Is Now A Wasteland

Remember the good old days of Facebook? The days when you used to write on people’s walls and your crush would poke you? The days when you titled your albums and actually got excited, not annoyed, when people wished you a happy birthday? Yeah, those days are long gone.

If it weren’t for my blog, I’d probably do away entirely with any sort of Facebook presence. Usually I elect actual paragraphs over list posts because I hate list posts. But, I’m going against my own philosophy to generate this very necessary list of why Facebook has become a wasteland.

The butchered grammar of status updates 

It’s apparent that some people have yet to master the English language. “My two little cousins that’s not so little anymore.” I just read that on Facebook. Three words: subject-verb agreement. Learn it. The rest of us did somewhere around first grade.

The ads

I get it. I online shop a lot. But, I need Facebook to respect my credit card balance and cut the foolishness of the ads. If I want to know Wet Seal maxi skirts are on sale, I can find out by going to the website.

Those who-the-fuck-are-these-people Facebook friends

Occasionally, someone’s status update will pop up on my News Feed and I’ll wonder “Who the fuck is this person?” I forgot that it was cool to friend people during high school or those people you did that one summer program with for two weeks about six years ago. But, now, you truly don’t give two shits what they have to say. You didn’t know them then and you sure as hell don’t know them now.

Farm Heroes Saga 

Stop. Sending. Me. Invites. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Play.

Scare tactic ads

In a separate class of fuckery from normal ads, these are those ads that attempt to push philanthropy, but really just freak you out. Don’t make me elaborate on this because I will most certainly sound like the heinous human being I am.

Engagements

Really? 151 likes?

Parents, grandparents and other relatives who discovered Facebook and think it’s the best thing since sliced bread

Hi, Mom.

The new algorithms (blogger woe)

I couldn’t contain my excitement a year or so ago when I created the Twenties Unscripted Facebook page. I thought I was soooo legit. And, then, here comes Zuckerberg and team ready to change the algorithms and suggest I PAY to “boost my post.” Boost my asshole, that’s what you can boost.

Babies

No, really? 151 likes?

I know I missed some reasons. Let’s continue the Facebook hate in the comments section.

Xoxo,

Tyece

Social Media Is Filled With Land Mines From Your Past.

I stay up on current events via CNN. I frequent Forbes Woman for career advice. And, I also Facebook stalk.

Yes, I am somewhat ashamed to say that I am not above getting lost in the never-ending rabbit hole that is social media every now and again.  According to my Gchat history, I asked my best friend on July 9 if it was “petty” to delete a former fling from Facebook. Her response: “No, do what you gotta do.” And, delete I did.

Yesterday, I found myself caught in the same digital trap when another former fling popped up on my news feed, tagged in his new girlfriend’s post about a meal she cooked for him. The temptation to click, click and click some more dangled in front of me, so I ate the social media apple to its core. After about five minutes, the only thing I could discern about this new relationship was that the new girlfriend liked to tag my former fling in every post she created. Thanks to Facebook, you can now piss all over the place and mark your territory via mentions. We owe you, Zuckerberg.

I didn’t feel any better after I gave into social media temptation. I felt a bit ridiculous. Erratic. Even a little gross.  Like I needed to shower in something intelligent to wash off all of the selfies and “my boos” I had just witnessed.

Social media makes it too easy to remain informed about the miniature and inconsequential details of your peers, friends, former flings and enemies’ lives. It is more than pathetic that I know the general trajectory of people’s lives and I haven’t even spoken to them in years. “Oh, did you see she got engaged?” or “Oh, yeah, she moved in with her boyfriend.” There is absolutely no rhyme or reason why I know this shit about people I haven’t even glanced at or thought about since I graduated high school.

And, it only gets worse with former significant others/flings/people you liked/whatever the hell we can call them. Fortunately, I did not connect with the last guy I dated on any forms of social media, aside from the fact that he read my blog (which, in retrospect, may be far worse than being privy to my social media presence. Shrug.) But, when things fizzled, we did not have to endure the obligatory defriending and unfollowing that defines most modern-day breakups.

You learn that the world is small, but it is now pint-sized thanks to social media. Even when you eradicate all forms of a person on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr and whatever other distractors to which you subscribe, you are still susceptible to them popping up. They may appear in a retweet or they may be the smartass who pops up and decides to “like” some innocuous detail you dropped in an update. You realize that you may have deleted them from everything, but your friends and associates probably did not. Social media will make your past a roach, a pest that must be entirely decapitated before it stands any chance of dying.

Xoxo,

Tyece

Everyone’s Lives Look Perfect…On Social Media

31 Day Writing Challenge Day 4: “I love/hate Twitter because…”

I sat on a plane in March and wrote a blog post entitled, “My Frayed And Codependent With Twitter.” At the time, I was slightly perturbed that I had reached 10,000 tweets–a fact that felt both foolish and absurd. Since then, I am now somewhere in the 17,000 tweet stratosphere, but I stopped letting the number worry me, the same way couples quit tallying their arguments. The amount of times I’ve tweeted is now (and probably always was) inconsequential, especially because Twitter has brought me more good than harm.

Twitter, like most forms of social media, is a bit of an alternate universe. But, what makes it even more odd than say Facebook is that it’s a space to connect with friends and strangers alike. It is odd, almost abominable, to friend someone on Facebook who you don’t know. But, following a complete stranger on Twitter? Not a problem. Last night, my phone buzzed, alerting me that Jamilah Lemieux, a bit of a demigod in the print media world, had replied to one of my tweets. Jamilah doesn’t know me for jack shit; but with the potency of social media, I was able to connect with one of my writer idols.

In fact, in the months since I first penned the post about my codependent relationship with Twitter, I’ve connected with many more writers thanks to the microblogging tool. Likewise, my work has been able to reach more people. Twitter is prime for sharing content and I’d venture to guess that at least 85 percent of the articles and blogs I read cross my path via someone’s tweets. I spend most days with my mind on overdrive, mentally munching on bits of information that come to me in 140 characters or less, typically with a hyperlink to something else. Many of the ideas I get for my posts are hidden in tweets, someone saying either something that I completely respect or completely disagree with, prompting me to expel my response on my blog.

So, that is the love part.

If there is a hate part, it is that Twitter has given everyone a microphone to say whatever the hell they want. And, let’s face it: some people don’t need to get on the mic. They should stay backstage and help with sound check. I’ve learned to take pretty much everything said on Twitter with a grain of salt, eventually reaching the conclusion that some words are said for entertainment only. It is the perfect platform for attention–whether you’re a woman looking for a guy to compliment you on your looks (cue the flood of selfies with subtle cleavage) or if you’re a guy looking to piss off a lot of people with chauvinistic musings.

Of course, there’s always truth in humor, but the people who have amassed thousands of followers know how to tweet purely for entertainment. Some days, reading my timeline is like sitting front row at a stand-up performance. These online comedians have their audience down to a science, fully aware that if they say something controversial, sexist or disgusting, they will incite the exact response they’re seeking. Those digital diatribes are less real and more theatrical.

In the end, Twitter, like any form of social media, provides only a unilateral display of a person. You do not get the nuances, tone, or facial contortions. You do not know always know the multi-layered story behind why they are tweeting both incessantly and cryptically about being hurt. You only get the most microscopic view, a view that is far too limited in scope to allow you to make assumptions or jump to conclusions, even though that is what we all do.

Most people’s lives seem utterly amazing on social media. Of course, I’ll post the pictures of me chilling at a wine festival or lying on a beach, linking my Instagram account to my Facebook and Twitter and giving the impression that I do really cool shit all the time. The truth is, I spend many weekends in my overpriced apartment eating Chipotle, reading and binging on globs of terrible television. These activities just don’t lend themselves to self-absorbed photography like the others. But, we can get so caught up in these seemingly perfect digital narratives that we forget we’re all still people with debt, insecurities and some days, utterly ordinary and mundane lives.

Xoxo,

Tyece