Dear Pinterest, You're My New Best Friend

by Chantal Moore
Originally Published: 

You have done so much for me lately; I just need to express my thanks, and let you know that you have become my new best friend.

Email and I are pretty close, but although he can be a source of joy, sometimes I need a break from his negativity. I keep telling him not to talk to strangers or tell them his address, but he’s just too naïve and trusting. I do love him, though.

Book is also still frequently around, and we spend hours together. He’s very soothing. I love him too.

But I want you to know that I can make time for each and every one of you, and that you have found a very special place in my life. You are always happy, helpful and inspirational, my dear Pinterest. You are always available and never judgmental. You have made my life richer, and you ask for nothing in return. For this, I am grateful.

There is no way I could have got through planning a huge Amazing Race birthday party for both my 15-year-old and my 13-year-old without you. When I needed fun ideas for teaching French, you were there to offer up what would never have occurred to me. When I couldn’t think of what to make for dinner and wanted something that didn’t just look good in a picture, there you were. You have even helped me to organize and decorate my home. My children will never be bored this summer, all thanks to you.

Come to think of it, though, I do have one little bone to pick with you. Ever since you met Email, you’re there every time I visit him. It’s not that I’m jealous. It’s just that I used to pop by to see him for a quick visit, but since you have become a permanent fixture at his place, I can never seem to spend just a few minutes with him. My family, my dog and my other friends are all feeling neglected while you entice me to hang around, just a little longer, with all your cool pictures and step-by-step how-to instructions for making amazing things. You go off into another room, and I start to say my goodbyes, but then…there you go popping your head back into Email’s entranceway and telling me just one more thing. I really need to impose some sort of limits.

It’s not your fault. I’m the one with the addictive personality. I’m an idea junkie. If only you knew how many projects I have going on at this very minute, and not one of them completed. Okay, now I’m sad. It’s hopeless. I’m never going to turn my backyard into a beautiful oasis in one afternoon or surprise my spouse with a gorgeous new walkway to the front entrance. I’m never going to turn the backyard deck into a Scrabble game or turn an egg carton into an incredible, framed mirror. All these weekend Martha Stewarts should just stop making the rest of us feel inadequate!

Oh, but I love the idea of saying I did it myself, and that it only cost a fraction of the price of hiring someone to do it. More than that, I love how I can put my own twist on something and make it unique.

Alas, Pinterest, I have to say that although we have spent an inordinate amount of time together lately, I feel a bit cheated. Sometimes it’s like you dangle the proverbial carrot in front of me, saying, “Here you go! You can make this incredible lamp out of an antique postcard carousel. It would fit perfectly with your travel-themed décor in the living room.” But where can I find the vintage postcard carousel near my home? Where? I’ll tell you where. Nowhere. Oh, it’s available all right, but international shipping charges would have me cashing in on the kids’ college savings plans. And then there’s the cost of the other materials to turn it into a lamp. All that, and I’m not even sure it will turn out looking nice.

Perhaps, now that I have had more time to reflect, I should be spending more time with Book. I get the sense that he’s been feeling a little left out lately, and I wouldn’t want him to get the idea that I no longer care about him. You understand, don’t you, Pinterest? I’ll be by to visit you soon, and I’m sure we’ll be running into each other at Email’s place.

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