Congratulations! You survived your hangover. How does it feel? Rewarding, I bet.
2013 is officially over and we are no longer in that awkward limbo state between Christmas and New Year’s known as “the holidays.” During “the holidays,” everyone talks about everything that’s happened over the past year as if the year has already ended. In reality, the next year hasn’t started yet, either. Our society sets aside a week for us to reminisce and resolute and think about the reasons why we hate ourselves and how we can strive to change in the year to come. The holidays are a strange concept–everyone kind of stops doing everything and doesn’t start real life until the next year gets here. It’s a week that, though it sits on the calendar, doesn’t actually exist.
Now that we are in a new year, I thought it would be appropriate to accurately and fully asses the year that’s passed us by–FYD style, of course. 95 (!!!) posts later and I think I’ve got a pretty good sense of what 2013 was about. Here’s the shortlist of what you really shoulda taken out of that wild year. As the Grateful Dead says, “Oh, what a long, strange trip it’s been.”
1. Your Facebook pro pic says a LOT about you. And by a lot, I mean 4,926 post views in twelve hours-a lot.
2. The selfie had a revolution. It was the thing of the year, by far.
3. 2013 brought us Thanksgivukkah–a chubby JAP’s dream come true!
4. Every. One. Got. Mono.
5. Kimye is everything.
6. FYD lesson: the balance between being a bitch/playing hard to get and being a slut is very, very difficult to find.
7. Celebrate the anniversary of your Bat Mitzvah by handing out the leftover kippahs you’ve been storing, because there is always a bald man somewhere in need of a hat!
8. Tobi.com took over young women’s “trendy”/mundane going out clothing.
9. Everyone used read receipts. Then, they didn’t.
10. Miley came in like a wrecking ball.
11. We acted like chopped salad was just born, even though it wasn’t. Overpriced chopped salad was born, transforming the dirty water dog-type lunch into one better suited to the women taking over the workforce.
12. FYD lesson: your relationship with your boyfriend is really a threesome between you, him, and Facebook.
13. Everyone wrote about kale, but I wrote about it first. Trust.
14. Cady Heron would not have survived a plastics’ group text. That is why being a girl nowadays is so frickin’ difficult.
15. We speak emoji.
17. We were labeled the “me me me generation.” But millennials rock. We’re going places, and they can’t stop us and our selfies.
18. I read Fifty Shades of Grey while living in a rural Eurasian town of conservative Muslims. You might not remember that, but it’ll make you laugh.
19. I wrote my first post, “On Not Being a JAP,” for The FYD. But, obviously, there’s a little JAP in all of us.
20. A lot of other stuff happened that I didn’t get to cover. Gay marriage! Legal weed! Love! Loss! Sex! (GASP!) Breaking Bad! But, obviously, we still have 2014 for all of that.
Cheers to another fro-yo filled year of all of the above. May it bring you all overalls, muploads, selfies, shoe sales, peace, and low fat goodness.
When I told my parents recently that “FOMO” was added to the Oxford dictionary, my mom went into total outburst.
“I invented FOMO!!!!!!!!!!! Didn’t I, honey?” Some background for you: my mom has always insisted that she literally invented the word “FOMO.”
Although FOMO is a term my mother claims she coined lexically, she sure as hell didn’t coin it theoretically. I bet cavemen had FOMO when they had to take care of their pet wooly mammoths and missed an awesome naked bonfire. Humans have a tendency to overbook. When we overbook, we miss out. And when we miss out, we get FOMO. (FOMO = Fear Of Missing Out.)
FOMO can be a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, it’s never a good thing to feel like you wish you were somewhere else. But at the same time, it means that you have a connection to your group of besties and you know that they’re party people (a.k.a. they like to cuddle and eat cereal out of the box together–shout out to my fam) who are guaranteed to always do something you’re going to enjoy. Often, however, someone who is known for her FOMO is considered desperate, friendless, clingy, and way too attached to a group of people. So, what do we think? FOMO yes or FOMO no?
Someone who doesn’t get FOMO ever is someone who must have a lot of self-confidence. That girl is in charge of her schedule; she always knows what’s up. She doesn’t have FOMO because she knows other people are having FOMO of her. But, of course, we can’t all be this girl. At the same time, there is another side to this: someone who doesn’t get FOMO is potentially anti-social and may or may not have a chemical imbalance/seasonal depression that causes her to leave her friends and their wine spritzers around midnight, get in bed with her MacBook Air, and watch Like Crazy/cry/recite every word. Then, she sleeps for twelve hours and has a forty-five minute phone convo with her mom the second she wakes up. Don’t ask me how I know this girl so well. Just don’t.
In the grand scheme of things, it’s so easy to be antisocial. I have cramps. I have work. I’m saving my energy for tomorrow night. Ugh, my eyebrows right now. My legs aren’t shaved. I don’t feel like putting on pants. The struggle is endless. When it feels like there’s always another weekend on the horizon, it isn’t so bad to sacrifice one. I think that having the ability to be both social and anti-social is crucial. Once, someone told me about a line from a rap song that went something along the lines of: the coolest girl at the party is the one who rolls the joint but doesn’t smoke. I’m going to use that as a metaphor for what I’m trying to get at.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you’ve gotta be able to roll with the punches and go with the flow. If you’re concerned about not being in a socially acceptable minimum of muploads from the weekend, don’t sweat it. Your ex is probably thinking that you spent the night with another guy instead of being home alone with your fav movie and a box of tissues. In the end, it’s a win-win. Besides, there’s always next weekend. Take double mups, not double shots. That’s the motto.
I used to be terrified of a few things: vomit, roller coasters, and PDA. This is something that most girls have in common. My fears were not of miscellaneous fruits or animals; they were reasonable. But with the passing of time, I don’t know if my fears would stand as “acceptable.” Yes, girls are probably still shuddering at the sight of bodily fluids. Some, like me, will never be too fond of adventure parks, either. PDA is a different story. The girls today don’t give two shits, and I’ll tell you why.
First, let me give some backstory. My freshman year of high school brought a lot of new and exciting changes. My boobs kept growing even after I thought they had stopped, and I was finally getting back into my normal routine of having a panic attack a day. It was really great. It was also the year that I would be start going to school with my first “real” boyfriend. Going to school with your boyfriend for the first time is like having a co-ed sleepover party in the first grade. It isn’t like anything is going to actually happen out of the ordinary, but because you’re in the same vicinity your mind plays a dirty little trick on you that it will. Every day had the opportunity for something amazing and wonderful to happen because I was “young” and “in love” and I was also, like, fourteen.
For him, there was no secret fantasy hiding in the janitor’s closet or the handicap stall of the second floor girl’s bathroom. It was much simpler than that–we were in school together, so when he saw me in the hallway, or when he walked me to class, he was going to hold my hand.
Hence, World War III commenced.
For some reason, I was OK with wishing that one day my boyfriend would get the school marching band to surprise me with a rendition of Weezer’s “Island in the Sun,” but I was not OK with any public displays of affection (for newbies out there, public display of affection = PDA). It wasn’t even that I was embarrassed to have a boyfriend. I was far from embarrassed. I felt like the luckiest girl in the whole school. For a reason I am still not totally aware of, I was terrified of any touching, hugging, kissing, groping, lap-sitting, etc. etc. in front of anyone else.
The two of us would get into bitter arguments over PDA. Why was it such a big deal for me to hold his hand? Why couldn’t we hug before class? Not even a kiss on the cheek? My defense was simple: no one needed to see it. I was always very prude and in the stubbornest of ways. I had heard so many people go off about how disgusting it is to see couples being mushy in the halls. I had even been blockaded from my locker many a time (a common occurrence at my high school) by couples going at it up against the wall.
My literal fear of PDA got so bad that my mom eventually had to say something to me about it. “You’re so cold towards [insert ex’s name here haha lol]. Why don’t you just be a little warmer? One day you’re gonna push him so far away that he’s not going to come back.” Since Mama always knows best, especially when she’s Jewish Yenta Mama, I took her advice to the best of my ability. Slowly, I eased by way into the nauseating hand-holding and the awkward-feeling-but-looks-cute arm around the waist. “See?” I would say to my boyfriend. “Look how good I’m doing!” You’d think I was going through psychotherapy (not to say I wasn’t, anyway) or that maybe he was teaching me how to ride a bicycle (not that he didn’t, either) by the way we would speak about it.
But enough about me. Let’s talk about the biddies in their prime–they can still eat whatever they want, they can still solely rely on Mommy and Daddy’s ca$h flow, they’re still naive enough to believe that a quadruple date with four senior guys isn’t just a quadruple booty call–and how these days, they are lovin’ themselves some PDA. Let me go back to where I started. Why do they love PDA? Obviously, I’m going to blame this on social media. Haha duh.
When I was a freshman in high school, I had a Facebook. But social media was not nearly as much of a “thing” then as it was now. My freshman year was when people learned how to put photos onto Facebook from their Blackberries (freshman now don’t even know what a Blackberry is) that were filtered into an album automatically titled “Mobile Uploads.” And just like that, my fave vocab word of all time–mupload, obv–was born into creation.
Now, there is no way to put photos on Facebook aside from through your iPhone… or at least that’s how we make it look. Facebook and its critical importance in the everyday life of a teenaged girl has built up PDA to become a normal thing. Everyone sees everything you do because there’s a mupload of you doing it already on Facebook. I’ve seen you hooking up, I’ve seen you grinding, I’ve seen you holding each other’s hair back, and I’ve seen you sitting on the toilet. So, you might as well go ahead and hold hands in the hallways. You might as well.
The weirdest thing is this: after a few years of high school, I started feeling a compulsion to chronicle my relationships on Facebook. Simultaneously, I found myself feeling more and more comfortable with a quick kiss or a hand-hold. Just some food for thought…
On the bright side of things, in case you were wondering, I’m totally over my phobia of PDA. Vomit… not so much.
As you may or may not know, The Fro-Yo Diaries is a member of the Her Campus Blogger Network, “a curated network of blogs written by women ages 13-30 on fashion, beauty, cooking, fitness, design, lifestyle, and more” (HerCampus.com). So since we’re BFFs with Her Campus, I wanted to spread the word about a trendy gathering known as the National Intercollegiette Conference 2013. This really long title is referring to July 27th and 28th, two days in NYC in which college babes from all across the country are welcome to come and join Her Campus for tons of lectures (with super legit speakers from Cosmo, Huff Post, Glamour, Lucky, etc.), workshops, and opportunities to network/schmooze.
Her Campus teamed up with a bunch of sponsors that all sell stuff that girls like. To fill you in on the sponsors, I figured I would go through the list and tell you what you like about them. Because I know, obviously.
Girls like Chipotle because it’s fast food that you can get away with muploading without looking gross/fat/sumo/etc. but still having people question “How does she eat that but stay so thin????!!!!”
Girls like Luna bars because they taste amazing and are perfect for those of us that are not psycho enough to juice cleanse but are still interested in meal replacement with things like protein bars, fro-yo, and fro-yo.
Woodbury Common Premium Outlets
Girls like Woodbury because how can they not?
Girls like LeSportsac because if you never had a LeSportsac, did you really ever go to middle school?
Girls like Veet because when they’re eight years old and Jewish, they think the amount of leg hair they have is enough to make a small fur coat for a mouse.
You can sign up for the National Intercollegiette Conference by clicking here. HC love! And remember to bring your Veet!
If there is one aspect of the iPhone that has revolutionized its use–more than its calendar and alarm functions, more than my Neopets app, and more than the birth control reminder–it is the integration of the emoji. For anyone unaware (although being unaware of emojis is comparable to being unaware of the ability to involuntarily breathe), an emoji is a little teeny weeny cartoon face that you can use to communicate on an iPhone. If you have a Droid, you are not relevant. #sorrynotsorry.
Emojis come in all forms, and can portray any possible emotion ever felt by mankind. Ever.
Take this, for example. Once, someone who is kind of anonymous used an emoji to convey to me that he had farted:
A really big moment was when whoever makes all of the cute emojis in the little emoji factory added the homosexual emojis, which had not previously been of option:
This also happened recently:
As you can see, conversation via iMessage would not be the same without emojis. Old people hate our generation because we talk by texting and avoiding conversation face-to-face. Whoever thinks that is obviously wrong, because as a millennial, I can honestly say that I have never felt more face-to-face in my life. You can tell more about me by my choice of emoji than you can by reading my Harry Potter glow-in-the-dark diary.
You know what they say–an emoji says a thousand words.