I'm back! I was trying to figure out why I haven't written anything since February and then I realized it was because of eight weeks of a germ circus + three children and all the fun that entails.
Extremely accurate representation of my life for the past few months.
Despite the relative awfulness, I happy to report I haven't fallen into any deep, dark pits of despair lately, nor have I been whiling away my time on the interwebs (which is my usual fallback when life gets shitty). I recently started Pinteresting again, though, and was kind of weirded out by the "Picked For You" thing. How long have they been doing that, anyway? Six months? A year? Because I HATE IT. Thanks to their Internetty voodoo, my board is now crammed with bikinis, stretch mark remedies (MEAN!), motivational fitness quotes and Oreo-Snickers-brownie-peanut butter recipes.
Oh, and quotes. Sooo many quotes. Pinterest picked this one for me:
And there's also things like "How to Be a Hands-Off Parent" right next to "Two Million Ways to Be All Up In Yo' Toddler's Biz So They Never Learn to Entertain Themselves", and then of course in between all that there's requisite Pinterest-y things like hairstyles requiring at least twenty seven fingers, perfect makeup *coughphotoshopcough*, clothes I can't afford and millions upon millions of crochet patterns and craft projects I don't have time for.
The worst part, the sketchy part, is all these Picked for You doodads are based on my past pins and browser search history, which means the entire contradictory mess is (allegedly) an exact reflection of the inside of my noggin. And it is ostriches-on-ecstasy levels of crazy up in there (seriously, though, act surprised).
"Sweetheart, you're beautiful just the way you are, but here's how to apply three pounds of makeup because never mind that first part." ~ my brain, according to Pinterest
|It's called a smoky eye!|
But again, it's just a silly website. And it's been great to realize I'm in a much better place than their algorithm suggests. Maybe it's simply a reminder, and maybe you need it, too, if you happen to be another perfectionist, that the Internet is Not. Real. Life.
You know, in case you haven't seen all those noseless people on Instagram.
Now pour yourself a drink and go BE.