15 Ways To Be An Asshole About Your Winter Getaway

1. Add a “Vacation Countdown” widget to every possible social media page you have, including your old Myspace page, just in case anyone missed the leap to Facebook in the mid-Aughts.

2. Chime in on any event invite you receive that you can’t make it “because…CABO <3”

3. Send a long-winded “pre-vacation” email out to everyone you’ve ever met, warning them you will have limited access due to the “remote nature” of the “remote island” you will be visiting.

4. Set your email “away” message to “Off to the beach! Back soon!”; answer all your emails anyway.

5. Make a Vacation Pinterest board; change your settings to automatically share to Facebook and Twitter.

6. Airplane window view pic, feat. turquoise green waters.

7. Take copious pictures of your tan lines and post them on Instagram with any or all of the following hashtags: #beach #beachvaca #tan #neednewfoundation #vacationproblems #lovethesun #mylifeisamazing

8. Take a photo of your feet in the ocean; write “Wish U Were Here” in the powdery sand and tag all your friends who are home freezing their asses off.

9. Snapchat videos of hotel bartenders performing their best flare bartending tricks, including the one where they throw a lime and then it lands in a coconut, and then you drink it all up.

10. Bring back crappy trinkets no one wants/will ever wear but will feel too guilty to throw away.

11. Post a pic of a homeless dog wandering near a tin-roofed shack down the road from your hotel and caption it “Perspective…priceless.”

12. For the next six months after your vacation, start every anecdote with the phrase, “When I was in St. Barts…”

13. Make your BF take a pic of you in a bikini, flipping your wet hair back to make a perfect arc of water. Literally use up all of your phone’s storage (and his) doing this.

14. Get cornrows, period (applies to white girls only).

15. Go to a dinner party the minute you get back in town and immediately give everyone there the Norwalk virus, so everyone can celebrate your trip with 48 hours of screaming double-enders.

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