It’s a Pinterest Life…..

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                I’ll put it the way my one English professor did in night class: “What…what is a Pinterest? Do you pin things on it?”

                Sometimes I’ve asked a similar question. For the longest time, I owned a Pinterest account that I never looked at. Ever. Now I’ve got loads of people following my account and constantly filling up my e-mail with updates I already knew about.

                I suppose I’ve come to enjoy my boards, my likes, and the general idea that I can express myself through what I post. My only concern is how much of it is realistic or even bloody possible. I have one board that is specifically for stories. There are random pictures of tales I love, characters that I swoon over (for more than loving reasons). But once I’m in the category of home ideas and clothing fashion…well, I feel stuck. What the hell do I post there? Clothing brands that I could never purchase? Home décor and renditions for a house that I don’t have or will never be able to afford?

                Seriously – what the hell?

                I can’t do most hair-dos recommended because I lack the thick hair required to pull them off. And all those house ideas are silly for me to consider, because no house is built with everything I would want in it. I might as well construct my own home and make it in the unique fashion I desire (good luck, Grace; you’ll never own a tree-home like Thranduil or a hobbit-hole like Bilbo Baggins). I can’t even own the cute animals I pin all the time. Where’s my baby elephant and red panda?

                But I guess these silly fascinations with what we want aren’t entirely unaccounted for. At least there – in our Pinterest fantasy – we can have ideas of what is and isn’t possible. We can try to have those things, even if they don’t come in our preferred version. If I want that pair of shoes, I can at least find a substitute. If I want those cute, painted mason jars, I’ve got paint and mason jars to make the convenient clones. Pinterest is the imagination waiting to become a reality.

                But for this reason, I’ll always prefer Tumblr. At least there, the imagination can stay in its perfect picture and only be wished upon for its entirety.

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