Essentials Weekspotlights unexpected items that make our daily lives just a little bit better.

I used to play phone tag with my college friends a lot. That,xvideos pornos or we'd go months without a phone date, our contact relegated to liking each other's Instagram posts or a few texts here and there.

Marco Polo changed all that.

Since getting the app, which lets you record videos that people in chosen groups can watch later, chatting with the friends I've had for nearly 15 years has increased exponentially. Time zones, work, and just general busyness meant the four of us would be stuck leaving each other a string of voicemails before finally schedulinga time to talk via text. But now with Marco Polo, we each send a video whenever we have the chance. And we listen in when we do, too. The app, which is free on both Android and iOS with in-app purchases, boasts it "helps people feel close, even when life gets busy."

Yes, we could send videos on Instagram Stories and Snapchat, but those expire after 24 hours. Marco Polo lets you listen in whenever you want, saving all your groups' videos in a timeline. You can delete your own video, if you'd like, but none of us have done that. Having these conversations off Instagram makes it feels like Marco Polo is a special place, just for us. It's our digital dorm room, in a way, where we can snuggle in bed and talk about our days. I'm also the only one who has Snapchat among my college friend group — we're all in our 30s. (I deleted Facebook so I miss life updates posted there.) As a bonus, unlike Instagram and Snapchat, Marco Polo doesn't use your data to show you ads.

Our Marco Polo videos run the gamut from small life updates to big ones, from sharing a touching story about a mentoring session to new job prospects. I get a tiny jolt of joy when I see the Marco Polo notification that looks like a beach ball on my phone's home screen.

When I talked to one of my Mashable colleagues about Marco Polo, she had heard of it being described as a teen app. That shocked me because it feels built for an older audience — it's not complicated like Snapchat (a bot teaches you how to use it) and saving the videos until you delete them sounds counterintuitive for teens who communicate by sending each other embarrassing selfies. Also, when you send a photo, you have to record some voiceover with it (or send an awkward silent video focused on the photo).

Marco Polo has some features to jazz up your videos, but it's limited. You can apply filters, add text, doodle, and change your voice, but the options don't compare to Instagram and Snapchat. Both beat Marco Polo when it comes to lenses, stickers, font types, and font colors. I tested all the Marco Polo voices — helium, macho, and robot (which all sound exactly like you'd think) — during my first recording with my college friend group, but that was pretty much the extent of us getting creative. You can respond to a recording with a handful of emoji, like a heart, sad face, or happy face, but emoji use is rare on the app among my college friends. And that's OK! Marco Polo seems to be more about hearing and seeing your loved ones than gimmicks.

While Marco Polo launched in 2016, we only started using it in October. We made a group on the app after one friend mentioned she used it with her husband, who lives on the other side of the country for a medical fellowship. She had heard about it from her sister. It was true word-of-mouth adoption all around. (The app's App Store reviews are pretty stellar, too, with 4.8 stars from 1.3 million ratings. It's been downloaded 10 million times from the Play Store.)

Marco Polo, which doesn't break down user data by age because it says it doesn't collect it, spotlights a bevy of wholesome stories on its website. A math teacher who heard about the app from a colleague has her students help each other with homework on the app. A woman with breast cancer uses it to keep her loved ones updated about her prognosis. A grandmother reads stories on Marco Polo to her grandchildren. All these interactions seem like valuable moments of connection, and that's been my experience, too.

Recently, I started another Marco Polo group with my siblings. When my brother, who lives thousands of miles away from me responded, he didn't quite get the call-and-response nature, fumbling with whether the app was recording and with what to say.

My message back, after I needled him for his awkward first video was, relax. Marco Polo isn't about being performative. It's about showing people you care a slice of your life without gunning for likes.

In a world where we're all searching for applause online, that's pretty damn refreshing.