ORANGE Buzz Editor Megan Fullerton tries out for The Real World and lives to tell the tale.

Every relationship has its fair share of complications. The following 10 are ORANGE columnist Danielle Haberly's take on what she considers the most common relationship worries. 

At South By Southwest, I attended a panel during the Interactive portion of the festival about Instagramming the News. The panel featured three professionals in photojournalism and photography technology: Dan Toffey, the Community Manager of Instagram, Associated Press Chief Photographer David Guttenfelder and Time Magazine’s Director of Photography, Kira Pollack. Toffey, Guttenfelder and Pollack covered a variety of topics concerning news-related posts on Instagram accounts. Toffey mainly talked about the general use of Instagram for photojournalism and how the company has seen this type of posting develop. Guttenfelder and Pollack focused on how the social media site has changed their respective publications’ use of photos and event coverage, as well as how Instagram has broadened their viewer platform. I gleaned many important tips from their presentation, however one fact hit me hard and has made a home at the forefront of my mind for many weeks now: Guttenfelder and Pollack both follow citizens in the U.S. and different countries — normal, everyday, not-so-prominent figures — to find out where the news is. 

Social media outlets are good for many things: keeping up with friends, connecting with classmates and checking out the latest buzz around town. They're also tools for spying on your significant other. I don't necessarily condone this, for multiple reasons - one being that curiosity will drive you crazy. I don't want to have to wonder about each girl that "likes" my man's Facebook status. My roommate's boyfriend actually deleted his Facebook profile because he was tired of seeing comments like "Wow, sexy," on her photos. 

I didn’t see anything at first. I had been resting the entire weight of my body on the railing overlooking the bottom floor of The Mohawk, right above the stage. All of us lined up against the metal barrier — delirious and drooping in exhaustion — had become friends over the past couple of hours waiting to see Tyler, the Creator. We had stood there guarding our spots, sharing South by stories (who saw what band, which celebrity took a picture with who, etc.), exchanging phones and numbers, taking turns to go to the restroom, buy drinks and eat hot dogs. I was tired — already on my SXSW Day 6 — and I was hardly paying attention to the band anymore. I looked out onto the street. Mindlessly.