Pinteresting, Very Pinteresting

Saturday, August 4, 2012


I used to create scrapbooks when I was younger. No, not last week.  More like my teens and early twenties.  I would rip pages out of magazines (NOT in my doctor's waiting room . . . I have a thing about that. I hate getting to the end of an article during a long wait only to find the page is missing) and catalogs and compile them in spiral craft books with thick, cardboard-y pages.  I still have every single one of them in my basement.  Should I be embarrassed to admit this? Every so often I'll crack open the tote that houses my books, sit on the floor, and go through them.  What I find so incredibly interesting is that thirty-one year old me could have created them.  She doesn't have the time. Or perhaps I have a sleep disorder that induces the unconscious use of a glue stick. The same hopes and desires are contained within.  My taste in home decor and fashion aren't too different, either.

I still love this makeup look.  I spent 1/2 hour looking for the lipstick online after taking this photo. Considering this was published in 2001, it wasn't surprising that I didn't find it.
I still like bagels, strawberries and washing my hair. I'm still waiting for the body to wear that outfit.

They are like bound vision boards.  Only before there were "vision boards." The Secret hadn't been invented and I had no other influence other than my own desires, ideas, and inspirations.  I still rip out a page in a magazine or catalog when a photo, article, or outfit strikes my fancy.  In fact, I have a folder in my desk that houses them.  I may have given up the habit of compiling them into books, but I haven't abandoned the content. You see, long ago, I believed in the power of positive thought.  I still do.  I'm not talking magic here. It's a spiritual journey of my own religion.  I see an outfit or home or destination and use it as motivation to accomplish my goals.  My dream job? A place to wear that incredible skirt. Financial freedom? The way to finance that perfect home and its perfect kitchen. I can't attain any of those things if I don't stay motivated and finish my degrees. You get the point.  As I go through these books, I'm always amazed by how many of the wants and goals have come to fruition. When created, these books contained only dreams.  Now they contain a lot of realities.

I've eaten lobster. In Maine. More than once.
I've stayed in places along the Maine coast.  This island has been added to the list. I live only a few hours away.

I became Pinterested a little late in the game.  I had seen friends' posts on Facebook declaring that they'd pinned a photo to a board.  I had no idea what that meant.  In the process of researching how to promote this blog, Pinterest came up a lot. Because I am a very visual person and therefore write photo-filled posts, it seemed like the perfect fit.  The first night I spent three hours exploring and creating and pinning. I entered some sort of Pinterest vortex.  Time just disappeared.  Then I realized something: What I was doing was a familiar task!  Pinterest is essentially a digital version of my scrapbooks.  I've come full circle!  No wonder I get sucked in and can't stop. It has allowed me to compile new desires and goals, which are important.  Perhaps forty-one year old me will look back at them and see what I see now: Completion.

I met the guy. Not the baby.

This is not to say that everything in my books has become a reality.  I came across this page today and felt a little pang of . . . something.  I'm not sure what.  I've decided not to have another child and I've been coming to terms with that decision for a while now. But in some ways I feel as if I'm letting down young me . . . the girl that had a baby but also looked forward to the chance to do it right. On her own terms.  I suppose some dreams are better left unfulfilled. I still have a lot left to accomplish, though. What a boring existence I'd have if I wasn't working toward anything!

Thoughts? Feelings? Insights?

Post a Comment

Comments make my heart go pitter-patter. Make sure you are not a no-reply blogger!

Instagram