I'll be honest with you. I first jumped on the Pinterest train when it was a brand new and very unheard of thing, but I thought it wouldn't get off the ground. And now it's practically become the ground that the Interweb stands on. At least the parts with good design sense and phenomenal taste.
I adore Pinterest and the ease of its dainty little "Pin It" button on my browser's Bookmarks Toolbar. It's become like an external segment of my brain, acting as a personal catalog for photography inspiration, recipes, event and styling ideas, crafts, reminders, and all around beautiful things that would normally remain lost forever in my over-clogged Google Reader.
And it's added new vocabulary to our everyday verbiage, which would otherwise sound fairly stupid. For example, here's a pin from each of my boards:
I've always felt a special tie to my namesake. Yes, I truly was named after this Madeline. Her height issues and inner hutzpah were a real guiding light in my childhood. Almost like a cartoon, storybook mentor, if you will.
I mean, when you consider the obvious similarities, we are practically the same person.
Obvious similarities:
I'm small—sometimes even "the smallest one."
(...but inside, "I'm tall!")
I enjoy straight lines...and order in general.
I'm not afraid at all.
I'm not some little twig.
"I may be teeny tiny, diminutive, petite,
but that has never stopped me, from being pretty neat."*
Apparent (but unimportant) dissimilarities:
I'm not an orphan.
I don't have 11 sisters.
I only WISH I lived in Paris.
I don't look good in yellow. Or hats.
If you believe you must be big
In order to be tough
Then you should get to know me
I'll teach you other stuff
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
And though I'm very small
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
And inside I'm tall
*She may be teeny tiny
Diminutive, petite
But that has never stopped her
From being pretty neat
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
I'm not some little twig
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
And inside I'm big
Dum-ti-dum-ti-dum
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
I'm not afraid at all
I'm Madeline, I'm Madeline
I'm bravest of all
Dum-ti-dum-ti-dum
She's Madeline, she's Madeline
We hope you have it straight
She's Madeline, she's Madeline
And inside she's
Dum-ti-dum-ti-dum...
Great!
I've come so close to being her for Halloween so many times.
C-print of Indian Tom Lake soaked in Indian Tom Lake water, by Matthew Brandt.
Forgive the sudden jarring motion of going from a Katy Perry post to something of the poetic. But this kept me up late at night and screwed with my tear ducts a little. I've never been able to wrap my head around a good definition of hope.
Heaven from all creatures hides the book of
Fate,
All but the page prescribed, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?
Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food,
And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Oh, blindness to the future! kindly given,
That each may fill the circle, marked by Heaven:
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world. Hope humbly, then; with trembling pinions soar;
Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore.
What future bliss, He gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never is, but always to be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confined from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears Him in the wind;
His soul, proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk, or milky way;
Yet simple Nature to his hope has given,
Behind the cloud-topped hill, a humbler heaven;
Some safer world in depth of woods embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold.
To be, contents his natural desire,
He asks no angel’s wing, no seraph’s fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful dog shall bear him company.
In other news, today is my last day nannying for this guy. I'm gonna miss quoting the ridiculous things he says on an hourly basis. Today I caught his barely 8-year-old sister singing, "Yo ho ho and a bottle of ruummmmmmm..." in the kitchen to her American Girl doll.
Making lists and crossing them off has done wonders for my self esteem during my current "in-between-jobs" status. Some call it feigning productivity. On the contrary.
And I think I've finally found the perfect online organizational tool.
Meet TeuxDeux.
How much classier does it sound to say, "Let me check my TeuxDeux list," as opposed to, "Let me check my To-Do list"...? Okay, so it sounds the exact same. But it looks sexier...and French :)
I love its sleek, utilitarian design.
And I love that it's free.
http://teuxdeux.com/
They have a free iPhone app as well, which I've heard only great things about...but alas, I'm still with Verizon.
