Snap(ped) chat

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Dear Snapchat,

That’s it.

We’re done. Finished. Caput. El FIN.

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And you want to know why?

Because I’m sick of this one-sided relationship. I’m sick of feeling used. Because I often find myself making little video/picture stories about my daily food decisions and my occasional day-drinking fiestas for no reason whatsoever. Because I constantly get mind-numbing concert seizure videos from my friends that for the record, NO ONE WATCHES. Because I would be lying if I didn’t say that I didn’t enjoy sending #DefinitelyASelfie pics out to all my cute little fun friends using your easy-to-use button functions.

But in all honesty? It’s over, Snapchat. Because you are ruining lives. And most importantly, you are ruining my life.

I feel like most of our grandparents wrote love letters. Long epic ballads about how much they cared for one another. These days I’m lucky if some guy I like sends me a 4-second picture of the beer he’s drinking.

And you know what the worst part of that is? I GET EXCITED ABOUT SAID PICTURE. Omg guys, so-and-so sent me a picture of what he was eating! Wait. Did he post that picture to his snap story? No!? Ahhhh omg, omg fist-pump/high-five, #PersonalSnap! That means that before he even took a bite of his meal he thought, hmmm I should send Meg a picture of what I am eating. Swoon. I’m LITERALLY like so incredibly touched at such a thoughtful display of poignant flirtation. This is truly the start of our screenshot-saved digital romantic love story memory box that I can like, #TBT when I’m feeling nostalgic. I’ll look back at our relationship and go: Honey, remember when you first sent me that 5-second video of that giraffe at the zoo? That’s when I knew you really cared.

I’m joking, but seriously guys. You know this isn’t far from the truth. When did this lack of communication become the main source of communication between all of us? When did this become second nature? Are you even reading this because it’s longer than 10 seconds?

It occurred to me just how lame this process has become as I became deeply offended yesterday that a friend of mine looked at my snapchat story and didn’t answer my text. Um, I’m sorry anonymous friend but I saw that you saw my 4-second picture of my delicious sushi dinner but you couldn’t take the time to write me a 4-second response to my text inviting you to said dinner? Did you really not have 8 seconds to spare?

Furthermore, are you really so freaking textually impaired that you can take the time to watch the entirety of my Saturday wine night but not answer where you’re going to lunch today? That story was a nonsensical intoxicated 65-second montage of a plate of cheese! I would know you asshole… I was there! Well anonymous snapchat friend. You have hurt my feelings. This will last much longer than 10 seconds I assure you.

And so this what you have reduced me to Snapchat. A neurotic, babbling, pathetic food photog who gets mad when my friends don’t respond to my texts but then watch my pointless snap stories and also get excited when guys send me 10 second videos of the John Legend concert they are at which FOR THE RECORD I can’t even hear, because your iPhone isn’t a professional sound system, you unoriginal, tone-deaf dick.

Sadly, I find that like most of rants about pop culture and the moral flaws that come with such, I am both appalled at the problem at hand, as well as being the problem itself.

And so today, for once, I’m not participating. I’m taking a stand! You and your snaps can all go to 24-hour expiration hell and I’m going to look at my shoes and enjoy my meal. Neither of which you will get to see. So there.

…I’ll probably be back tomorrow.

#SelfieYouLater,

Meg

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