Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Timeflies. A Spiritual Journey.*

People often ask me "Rachel, why White Girl Wednesday?"  That's a lie. Everyone who knows me knows that I am whiter than fresh cocaine wrapped in an infinity scarf shoved inside an Ugg. But the concept for White Girl Wednesday actually comes from Timeflies Tuesday. Timeflies is a music duo consisting of the 2 most talented human beings on the planet. Cal may be the sexiest man alive and has the voice of an angel, but like an angel that you really wanna make out with. His freestyles have been givin me life for years. And Res is like the John Forbes Nash Jr. of music, what he can do with a beat and a melody and all those other musical terms that I don't understand will blow your mind. Please, visit the Timeflies YouTube channel and see for youself (TImeflies4850). Timeflies releases a new video almost every Tuesday, which inspired me to write a blog post every Wednesday.

Last Thursday night, my dreams came true. I finally saw Timeflies live. It was everything I dreamed of and more. Honestly, it was a spiritual experience. I technically did NOT cry. But I did tear up. A lot.

I ordered my tickets back in September. They were very reasonably priced but due to a Victoria's Secret addiction and complete disregard for reality I had to move some money around to buy my ticket. I think this was an excellent decision because as I informed my daddy, I get the chance to pay my rent every single month, I can only see Timflies this one time. I bought my ticket the day they went on sale and started counting down to November 13th.

It took me the equivalent of 5 Timeflies songs to decide what to wear. On one hand I wanted an outfit that would make them notice me. On the other hand I wanted to be invisible because I was afraid that if we happened to make eye contact I would literally die. And then there was the whole North Carolina weather issue. After being unseasonably warm for weeks, it was approaching temperatures only a Canadian could love outside but the venue was indoors and I knew it would be packed, hot and humid from the blood, sweat and tears of fangirls like myself. I finally settled on yoga leggings (this is not even a joke and I am not even sorry) and a navy top. That's right, I finally tried blavy (black and navy together, something I am normally VERY against). I decided that blavy is as avant-garde as I get and the Timflies concert was the perfect place to experiment.

My friend Liz made it her mission for us to meet Cal and Res. Unlike how I say "I will go to the gym once this month" or "I might eat a vegetable this week" I knew that Liz would actually pursue her goal, which is what impressed and terrified me. When we got to the venue we enjoyed the opening act and tried to dance off our nervous energy at the back of the crowd. We considered meeting my other friends up front but again being in close proximity to Timeflies was not something I was prepared for. As we waited for Timeflies to take the stage, Liz excused herself to get a drink or go fix her hair or something. Just when we started to wonder what was taking so long, she came back and told us she had met the original videographer. Despite my awkwardness, all-consuming fear and better judgment, we followed her outside and actually had a great conversation with him because he was a super chill guy. Had he been a normal citizen like myself I would consider us friends after that night. I think if our paths ever crossed in the future and I explained where I knew him from he would totally pretend to remember me. We bonded over a mutual love for Jeopardy! and he told us that this was the "hypest crowd" they had ever played for. A quote that I am seriously considering for my tombstone (Here lies Rachel Daniel...part of the "hypest crowd" ever graced by Timeflies.).

After the show we decided to split the difference between being groupies and not caring at all. So instead of hanging around the venue or going home, we posted up at some bars within walking distance and kept an eye out for anyone looking suspiciously cool. But eventually we had to just go home and decided to remember this as the night that we ALMOST met Timeflies (and by almost we mean it totally could have happened, right?).

In a way I'm glad I never got to meet them because I wouldn't want memories of one of the best nights of my life marred by passing out or a pending restraining order.


*This blog post was in no way approved by Timeflies. If they read my blog I would likely die of excitement.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Leave Taylor Alone!

A few weeks ago I came across an internet article titled "The Top 7 Clingiest Taylor Swift Lyrics" and it proceeded to put Taylor down for writing about her feelings. Newsflash...we're all a little bit nuts sometimes.

I have been listening to 1989 nonstop for the past 2 weeks and I am completely in love with it the way Taylor was in love with Conor Kennedy (as in I wanna spend every literal second with this album in Massachusetts surrounded by people who may someday look as good as JFK Jr.). This isn't a "Leave Taylor Alone" post, but it actually is. People ask me all the time if Taylor Swift music is my guilty pleasure...but that implies that I should feel embarrassed or apologetic about loving Taylor Swift...so that's awkward because I in no way am ashamed or sorry for loving me some T. Swift. Taylor Swift has always been there for me. Some people have therapists and friends, I have Taylor Swift (okay, I also have a therapist. and some quality medication).

So in this blog post, I felt the need to defend some of her lyrics because she is too classy and rich and famous to defend herself. And all you are is mean.

I'm dancin on my own, I make the moves up as I go.
Shake it Off
Yeah okay this line may be unnecessary because anyone who has watched an awards show in the past 5 years knows that she makes the moves up as she goes, but isn't that what life is about? Finding your own path and dancing all over it to the beat of your own air guitar? I think yes. And the only thing worse than dancing on your own is standing on the dance floor watching everyone else dancing. Or getting interrupted during a speech, that might be worse.

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don't touch.
Treacherous
I realize that standing alone, this line sounds pretty stupid and may bring to mind images of eskimo kisses or worse. But the sentiment behind this is so raw, that awful place where you can't decide what would be worse, seeing them or not seeing them (hint...it's seeing them). But I do think it is important to understand this as a lyric and not advice. In real life I don't actually put my lips close to other people's lips. At least not on purpose.

All those other girls, well they're beautiful, but would they write a song for you?
Hey Stephen
Because Taylor totally gets that no one will ever love Miles Teller the way that I would love him. Fun fact, I actually remixed this song to be about a guy I liked. His name was Kegan. The remix was Hey Kegan. It was an internet sensation (to me). Guys, there are so many beautiful girls out there, but how many of those girls are obsessed enough to write a song about you? Probably just me.

Please don't be in love with someone else.
Enchanted
This is almost always my first thought after meeting any new guy who isn't a democrat or serving prison time for committing a felony. I completely relate to the idea behind this song, meeting someone, connecting with them and just praying they don't have a girlfriend. In my case they literally always have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or aren't interested.

Got a long list of ex-lovers, they'll tell you I'm insane.
Blank Space
Honestly, I wish I had a longer list of ex-lovers. The few ex-lovers I do have will tell you I'm insane but no need to ask them, I will tell you I'm insane.

She thinks I'm psycho cause I like to rhyme her name with things.
Better Than Revenge
If writing about people you hate is wrong, then that would totally make sense but hatred can make for very good songs! I mean, Three Days Grace. And we all talk crap about the new girls who date our exes. My ex could marry Beyonce and I would still be like "downgrade LOL sass girl emoji" (JK Bey please don't smite me).

First thought when I wake up is my God he's beautiful, so I put on my make up and pray for a miracle.
I'd Lie
And I'd lie if I said that when I do my make up every morning (okay, twice a week if I'm feeling flirty) I'm not thinking "today someone will notice that if you kind of squint and tilt your head and are completely blind I'm not so bad to look at". Especially around beautiful guys, my go to face is the huge smile emoji that looks like he's saying "don't look at me I'm ugly". Once again, Taylor Swift is my soul.

And you do what you want cause I'm not what you wanted.
Cold As You
Every girl knows that feeling of rejection, not being what someone wanted. The infuriating thing about this is that guys won't admit it. I ask my guy friends all the time "am I bothering you? do you want me to give you some space" and they say "     " yeah they don't reply. Guys seem to think that no response is the best response in these situations and girls (at least girls like me, if they exist) think that no response is the closest thing to a kick in the balls that we will ever experience. But it's whatever.

I used to know my place was a spot next to you now I'm searching the room for an empty seat.
The Story Of Us
Because finding a seat is actually an incredibly stressful ordeal for me. Especially if you're used to sitting next to this guy and then things get weird or he files a restraining order.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Be A Dancer, Be Be A Dancer

For those of you who don't follow me on Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and in real life as I walk the streets of Chapel Hill, this week is Dancer Recruitment Week (DRW) for Carolina For The Kids Foundation, the organization formerly known as UNC Dance Marathon. I have now posted 3 days in a row and I hope you all realize that it takes an AMAZING cause to make me that active on social media. I will spare you my official CFTK pitch (don't worry it's at the bottom of this post) and translate what DRW is into white girl. Basically, for 24 hours every year we throw the biggest party on campus and this week is when we invite everyone and get the RSVPs so we can start planning centerpieces and appetizers.

If any of you are interested in signing up to raise $150 and stand for 24 hours to benefit the patients and families of UNC Children's, you can go to uncmarathon.org/dance to sign up now! If you still need some convincing, I have compiled the top 5 reasons why I want YOU to be a dancer!

5. Spend 24 hours in very close proximity to myself
If that's not a selling point, I don't know what is. Can you imagine a better way to spend March 20th-21st than in the same building as me? Eating the same food, listening to the same music, taking the same selfies, becoming lifelong friends lasting life. Go on, I'll wait.

4. Free food
That's right, my job is to provide all dancers with meals and snacks throughout the marathon. There will even be, gasp, healthy options. And one of our biggest supporters, Ben & Jerry's, always makes an appearance.

3. Amazing performances
Two words. Bhangra Elite. Bhangra is my favorite, but so many of our amazing campus performance groups perform at the marathon, from step shows to a cappella to dance. There is so much to see and do at the marathon, it really is like a concert or a party with 2,000 of your closest friends.

2. Friends!
Being a part of Carolina For The Kids is a great way to make friends on campus! Roughly 100% of the friends I have made in college were forced to be friends with me thanks to this organization.

And finally, the number one reason to sign up TODAY to be a dancer...

1. The chance to help overcome the burdens of childhood illness by providing major support for the medical, surgical and emotional care of the patients and families served by UNC Children's.
Really, no matter what your reasons are for signing up to be a dancer at our marathon in March, you have personally helped make a difference in the lives of others. I could list so many quotes about giving and service and helping others, but I think I will leave you with a quote from one of the loudest voices of our generation...another random yik yak user.
"Anyone who will stand for 24 hours to help someone they don't even know is a hero to me."

Sign up at uncmarathon.org/dance by this Friday at 8PM to RSVP to the best all nighter of your life!

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Vicodin Rachel, Not the Hero We Need or Deserve

I had a root canal yesterday. My 2nd root canal. Most people don't even get to experience 1 root canal and I have been lucky enough to have 2 in less than 2 years. I know, not everyone can be as #Blessed as myself.

My 1st root canal was one of the worst medical traumas of my life, second only to the full body mono rash in the summer of 2012 that extended to my palms and the soles of my feet. Children literally ran from me in fear. Root canals are needed for 2 main reasons, infection or cracks in the tooth (WebMD). But, short of severe tooth trauma, the cause is almost always infection. In my case, once they got all up in there, they realized that my tooth was actually just cracked. I still needed a root canal to fix the crack, but my non-infected tooth ended up getting infected in the procedure. Which really meant one thing. Pain.

It was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, the year was 2013. I returned to school following oral surgery and my pain medicine starting wearing off. Now at first, I thought that it had all subsided at the same time, but as the night and the all-consuming pain progressed, I realized that it was a gradual disappearing act. Long story short, after a night of almost unbearable pain and no sleep, I awoke looking like a battered woman straight out of a Lifetime movie. At first I didn't look too odd, the only thing weird about my face, well weirder than normal, was my right cheek which was so swollen that it looked like I was trying to smuggle a tennis ball. But the swelling crept up to my eye. Then I looked truly scary, imagine if you were allergic to bees and got stung right under your eye. Yeah it was bad. The left half of my face looked completely...tolerable. I could have easily played the deformed hidden child in some horror movie about a "typical American family" that is secretly full of killers. I of course contacted my dentist and asked if this was normal and what I could do because in addition to the elephantitis of the face the pain was getting worse. My dentist's office didn't quite understand the severity of the situation over the phone so I was instructed to keep taking advil because I shouldn't be in pain. So I emailed them a picture and faster than you can say "oh honey, do you need me to take you to a shelter?" I had a prescription for an antibiotic and a painkiller.

And that's where the real story here begins. Vicodin Rachel, my druggie alter ego. I have been on Vicodin for almost a week now and I could not be more thrilled and embarrassed with the results. Vicodin Rachel is very loving, very happy, very chill and she lets everyone know it. Here's some of her top hits.

"I love you and I love vicodin."
-A note that I left my roommate when I discovered I couldn't tell her how much I loved her in person because she was asleep. So I wrote this in a post it note and stuck it to her door. I also signed this note "me".

"People never talk about the dangers of drug underdoses."
-When friends expressed concern that I was addicted, one friend pointed out that I need to stay ahead of the pain and I agreed wholeheartedly, and pointed out that underdoses are dangerous too.

"I tried to write my Christmas list but the only thing I could think of was Vicodin."
-To a friend who just asked what I did last night.

"I don't think they take requests."
-When my best friend suggested I ask my next dentist for Percocets instead.

"Do you think I should stop being friends with me?"
-I really don't even know, but I said it.

"I feel like the air in this room is hugging me."
-If you've ever had Vicodin, this needs no explanation.

"I love you. I love your face. But I love Vicodin more."
-I said this to almost everyone who I saw/texted me/was on Facebook at the same time as me/passed me on the street. And I meant it with all my heart.

"Wedding dresses do nothing for my figure. How about wedding yoga pants?"
-At the time I felt like this was a legitimate concern. You know what? Actually, I still think this is a legitimate concern. It's true. I mean I haven't actually tried on a wedding dress ever, but I have reason to believe the cuts of satin and lace and taffeta used in bridal fashion will not flatter me. But I look good AND feel good in yoga pants so I would say Victoria's Secret being the unofficial sponsor of my wedding is totally an option.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Average Car Goals

As those of you who follow my blog every week (Hi Mom!) know, a few weeks ago my car broke down. If any of you reading this had the pleasure of meeting my car, you know she's a 60-something grandmother from New Jersey with a smoking problem, a foul mouth and a bum hip. Or at least, she was. Ilene was put to rest a few weekends ago. I'm sure I will see her again in Heaven one day because as far as safety was concerned, Ilene was certainly "the least of these" and I know a few people who gave their lives to the Lord after just one ride. She was an organ donor and I can only hope that soon there will be pieces of her all over the highways of North Carolina. And no, I would not be surprised to see that a piece of Ilene  had fallen off of another vehicle and was literally on the highway. Until then, I will see her in every squeaky fan belt, sketchy transmission, and broken spare tire mount I come across.

With Ilene firmly in my past, it was time to get a new car. Now I had no idea what I was getting myself into, the only way I know how to identify cars is by color and cheeky bumper stickers. So I told my parents that I didn't have many opinions on cars, my only request was no PT Losers, to which they quickly agreed. They picked out some cars to look at and Saturday morning we headed out, my parents with internet printouts and notepads, myself with equal fear and excitement.

It became apparent very quickly that my dad should do all of the talking. I'm pretty sure the only helpful question I asked all day was "where is your bathroom?" My dad was there to play hardball, talk numbers and drink complimentary coffee. Missy and I just pointed out what we found pretty or unacceptable (manual windows...do better). At Nissan my mother and I did a lap around the lot in search of more color options. We learned to avoid the pricier Altimas and Maximas, or as I like to call them, the cars with earrings (turn signals on the side view mirrors). At Toyota we learned the importance of finding a car without a gullet. To most people gullet means the throat or esophagus but I used it to indicate the leather bag that accompanies the PRINDL or emergency brake in some cars. For those of you who didn't watch the Suite Life of Zach & Cody in middle school (and high school, be honest), the PRINDL is the gear shift. Which brings me to another point, PRINDL placement is key when you are car shopping. After the 4 Cs (color, cup holders, CD player, chrome details), PRINDL location is the next thing I look at. Dad was in charge of the 5th C-cost. My big mistake of the day was not wearing a shirt that said "I'm a Republican!" because Toyota kept trying to sell me a Prius. Stop trying to make Prius happen.

And then came the test drives. My parents are middle class, working, average Americans. But you would have thought these two were having trouble deciding between a Rolls-Royce and a Bentley if you'd heard them on Saturday. They asked some of the most bougie questions you've ever heard, as if I were used to a luxury vehicle. I constantly reminded them that Ilene was a 2002 Kia held together with zip ties, duct tape and prayers, almost any other car would be an upgrade. But they kept going with the "what is bluetooth?" "can you really fit a whole drum set in the trunk?" and then Missy chimed in with "her friends won't be able to hear the radio in the back seat, can you balance the speakers and send more volume to the back of the car?" Can cars even do that? And why is Missy so concerned with the passenger experience?  Passengers were thankful to survive a ride in Ilene, I'm sure they won't mind if they can't physically feel the bass line of all the Taylor Swift songs I blast while driving.

Test drives were particularly stressful for me because my dad made me drive so fast. He asked me to go 70 once with the salesman right there in the car. The whole time I was thinking "if I wreck, our insurance will have to buy them a replacement car and a replacement Scott".  Now granted the speed limit was 70, but I like for my parents to think that I drive exactly the speed limit everywhere, or perhaps a few miles per hour below if I'm running early. Ilene would shake when she got above 65 so going 70 was a horrific experience I hope to never repeat...with my parents in the car. When I drove the car that we eventually purchased I was with my brother and the dealership let us test drive it alone (my brother is 17 and an even worse driver than I am). When we came back home my dad asked if I had let Patrick drive it too. As if! He's lucky I let him ride in it at all.

What I lack in general motor vehicle knowledge, financial understanding and common sense, I make up for in stubbornness. I wanted a black car. I got a black car. Goodbye Ilene, hello Cordelia. I love my new car more than peanut butter M&Ms, just to put my relationship with Cordelia in perspective, we couldn't be happier.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

My Suburban Life

Today marked the beginning of my last Fall Break. Ever. It's a little emotional for me but I want you all to know that I am really living it up for senior year Fall Break. And by living it up I of course mean ballin on a budget. I spent tonight gettin turnt with my roommate's family in the suburbs. I don't really have the authority to label any place as the suburbs on account of I don't think I've ever actually been in the suburbs, but they have a homeowner's association so it's a neighborhood at the very least.

In any event, my actions today were nothing short of utter white girl tomfoolery, so I decided it was my duty to report back on what was a new white girl frontier for me.

When we first arrived at my roommate's aunt's house, there were two soccer moms walking their dogs down the sidewalk outside and an unfinished house across the street that I mistook for a barn (I obviously don't get out much). Naturally, the dogs both looked like they had a good 30 pounds on their owners and one bore a closer resemblance to a polar bear than a dog but I'm sure they have leash laws or something bougie like that to keep them in check.

Our dinners were actually plated, there were sauteed vegetables, green bean casserole, stuffed mushrooms, pork chops with gravy and garlic bread. It was a dining experience. Dessert was a perfectly planned sundae dish with caramel and cookies that complimented the ice cream. Used to the ramen I make at school, I thought to myself "so this is how the other half lives" meaning of course those people out there who actually plan meals instead of microwaving a lean pocket whenever hunger strikes.

Post dinner activities included a joint effort at math homework, three liberal arts majors attempting fourth grade math, it was an ordeal. Next we all had to catch up on social media of course. My roommate's mother, God bless her, is looking at her phone and says "how many pictures can you take of yourself?" This naturally caught my attention as I'm working towards a degree in white girl studies and I get extra credit for every real world situation in which I expand the dialogue on selfie statistics. I literally just wrote about the evil that is selfie shaming last week, but this girl defied the laws on all that is good and holy when it comes to posting selfies. Instagram must not have a jail like Twitter. Shame. As my roommate's mother proceeded to show me this account of nonstop selfies, I suggested that she unfollow her. After contemplating that she agreed, saying "yeah, she is pretty much dead to me". So let it be known, she ain't no follow back girl.

What would a night on the neighborhood be without some apres dinner shopping? We had made strict plans to avoid the trap that is my all time favorite accessories store, but my roommate announced that she needed to go to Ulta because she "ran out of eyebrows". Bless her heart, she's a blonde and needed to purchase a new eyebrow pencil if she wanted to have eyebrows again. So we did what we do best and shopped. I bought what is quite possibly the most basic dress that has ever existed and more statement jewelry than a white girl could ever need.

For the drive home we played our favorite folksy/indie/bluegrass band and it was everything a white girl has ever wanted in a Fall Break. Minus the pumpkins. There were no pumpkins.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

The Selfie Olympics

As many of you know, I have long been a supporter (actually the only supporter, I think I'm the founder) of the movement to end selfie shaming, a very serious social issue affecting teens and young adults and the Kardashians these days. As part of my campaign to end selfie shaming, I am dedicating this blog post to my favorite genres of selfies.

I'm sure some of you are reading this and thinking genres? aren't there just selfies and normal pictures? Um, no. Selfies aren't that black and white (well, sometimes they are but that's really more of an editing choice). Selfies, like almost everything you will learn about at a liberal arts college, exist on a spectrum. The good, the bad and the ugly.

I believe in empowering everyone to post selfies regardless of what size yoga pants you wear, what side you part your hair on, how cute your monogram is, and all the other shallow aspects that girls these days are judged on. While I fully support selfies, you gotta draw lines somewhere. More specifically, I have to draw lines somewhere, as the unofficial and in no way legitimate selfie commissioner that I have just appointed myself.

So basically people, help me help you. I'm not gonna endorse a 30 year old guy posting a selfie every other day but if you're a middle school girl who participates in Selfie Sunday every week, I'll let it go. Please consider these rankings next time you're on Instagram. Just consider this your selfie dictionary. Tell your friends. And please, someone tell my brother.

10. Artfie
Artfies are selfies that are trying to be artsy. There is often some obscure filter or collage app used to make a standard selfie look like a work of art, I don't really know, artfies aren't my scene. But I do know that THE WORST artfies are pictures posted sideways. It's not hipster, it's not edgy, it's not cute, it's not art, it's annoying. If you like a picture enough to post it, try posting it in a format that everyone can actually view? Just a thought.

9. Fitfie
Taken at the gym to show progress or muscle definition or abs (whatever those are?). Fitfies are increasingly being taken by women and it is important to note that female fitfies generally show the entire body while male fitfies have a concerning obsession with the upper body only, leading me to believe that many a guy skips leg day. The best fitfies are few and far between and don't use phrases like "stop making excuses" or anything else that puts others down for not posting a selfie every time they go to the gym.

8. Momfie 
We love taking selfies with our mamas! Momfies are important to take every chance you get, especially if your mama is as cute as mine (which I seriously doubt). Us girls take selfies with our daddies a lot too but moms are just better at taking selfies than dads. The best momfies are posted on days that aren't Mother's Day because you should love your mom during the other 364 days of the year too.

7. Hairfie
Hairfies are selfies debuting a new hairstyle/hair cut. Hairfies are often before/after pic stitches. Hairfies are fun if you wear make up to get your hair cut, or if you can actually afford to get hair cuts. Honestly, the best hairfies are celebrity hairfies but wedding and prom hairfies are a subtle way to mix up your selfie portfolio.

6. Sweetfie
This is generally more of an usie and includes you and your significant other, friend, parent, sibling, pet, pizza etc... basically anything that you care a lot about. Sweetfies are almost always accompanied by song lyrics or a quote or even worse, a paragraph. The best sweetfies are taken with babies and have rap lyrics as the caption. The worst sweetfies are boyfriend/girlfriend pics for no reason. And no, a one week anniversary is not a legitimate reason to post a picture.

5. Swagfie
A guy favorite, swagfies feature poses that the subject considers to be cool with a gangsta or funny caption. Swagfies are great when you need a picture with someone but you feel really ugly and just decide to go with that hideousness. Swagfies are good for group selfies. The best swagfies have captions that match the mood of the image and involve a photo bomb, woodland creature, or some other random element.

4. Femfie 
When you're lowkey tryna be cute/sexy but you pretend it's just a typical selfie. Femfies often use emoji captions (salsa girl, kissy lips, lipstick, one of the random shapes no one ever uses) because no one wants to post a picture and say "I think I'm super hot today" but when ya got it ya got it (or so I hear...). Femfies almost always feature a duck face or a vacant stare.

3. Stylfie
Similar to an OOTD (outfit of the day) post, taken to show off your hairdo, make up, clothing, accessories, or all of the above. Stylfies do not have to include your face and are often mirror pics. Stylfies work really well in collage format. Stylfies are generally captioned with only emojis, because really what is there to say about my VS hoodie, yoga pants and Uggs that hasn't already been said on this blog a thousand times? The best stylfies are mirror pics that you can't tell are mirror pics.

2. Funfie 
A funfie is any selfie or usie that you caption cleverly enough to make someone LOL. Funfies are my personal favorite way of sneaking a selfie. Sometimes, you post a funfie just because you come up with a really clever caption and decide that you need to share your cleverness with the world. And I'm here to tell you that's not wrong.

And finally, my favorite selfie.

1. Hapfie
Hapfies are any selfies or usies captioned with phrases like "such a beautiful day" "loving my eyes today" "so glad I got to see _____". Hapfies exist purely to show the world how happy you are, which I think is a beautiful thing because sometimes we take happiness for granted. The best hapfies come from a place of genuine contentment and we should all capture more of those moments.

Peace and blessins.