You should join Pinterest if…

For those who don’t know anything about Pinterest, here’s the gist. It’s a photo-sharing social network. You “pin” photos of stuff you like or find interesting onto themed boards. For example, I have a pinboard for each decorating project I tackle, one for recipes to try, one for “cool crap I would do if I were a better mom,” etc. I find it useful for inspiration and for organizing my bookmarks in a visual way. For me, the at-a-glance board of appealing food blog recipes alone has been worth the effort, and I have tried more new recipes since joining Pinterest than in the past few years combined. But the culture of the place is very weird. Or maybe my social network is just weird. Or both. Yeah, probably both.

Anyway, I love Pinterest. You might love it too if:

1) You like to torture yourself with photos of gooey cookies and brownies right next to thin women with perfect abs and motivational quotes about diet and exercise.

Oreos and hot fudge baked into brownies

Source: kevinandamanda.com via Maggie on Pinterest

Exercise motivation (actually pinned by the same person)

Source: shapethatbody.tumblr.com via Maggie on Pinterest

2) You have a tender place in your heart for adorably whimsical holiday-themed treats.

3) You think that filling water balloons with paint and letting your children splat them on the driveway sounds like an awesome idea. OK, that actually is kind of awesome.

4) You have the time and motivation to make cute themed Bento box lunches for your children.

Source: cutestfood.com via Jessica on Pinterest

5) You enjoy fantasizing about clothing ensembles that would look really stylish on you if you weighed 110 pounds, shoes you would buy if you never had to walk anywhere, and homes you would own if you were a billionaire.

6) You homeschool and have run out of ideas.

7) You have loads of extra money to blow on fabulous etsy jewelry.

Source: etsy.com via Pam on Pinterest

8) You’re ready to organize an entry, playroom, craft room, or laundry room within an inch of its life.

9) You really, really, really like cake pops.

10) Fingernail polish in one simple color cannot adequately express your individuality as a human being.

Source: letthemhavepolish.com via Maggie on Pinterest

11) You appreciate lolcats, photos of babies with cute animals, photos of soldiers with cute animals, or photos of two cute animals together who do not belong together. Or you’re just really into baby hedgehogs.

Source: jessicaswift.com via Lydia & Kate on Pinterest

Lest you think Pinterest is a waste of time, every so often, you stumble on something like this Scottish bar stool for kilted men, and it makes it all worthwhile.

Source: signsfunny.com via Lydia & Kate on Pinterest

If you want, go ahead and follow me on Pinterest.

Me in New York, a study in contrasts

This past weekend, I had a luxurious three days and three nights away. Away from the kids, the house, the laundry, even the husband. I went all by my lonesome up to NYC to see some friends who have nine-month-old twins. In New York. In a one-bedroom apartment. And yet somehow they were still willing to let me crash on their sofabed. Those are some seriously good friends. Going to New York by myself? That is so cool. But me? Sadly, not so cool. Here’s the analysis:

Cool: Pizza in New York! The best pizza in the world! The coolest!
Uncool: The fact that I have to eat pizza with a knife and fork because I am congenitally missing my top lateral incisors, so if I just bite into pizza, the cheese tends to slide off into my lap or (more likely) onto my boob shelf.

Cool: Attended a party with the lead singer of The Strokes.
Uncool: Didn’t know it was him until after the party, because it turns out that hipster indie rock stars look pretty much like everyone else when they are at a two-year-old’s birthday party with their own kid, so I didn’t even get to tweet about it.

Cool: Went to Century 21, a store I have known about and loved since waaaay before they talked about it on Sex and the City.
Uncool: The Lincoln Square Century 21 is smaller than the one downtown, so it doesn’t have a plus size department, which is where I need to shop.

Cool: Finally tried bubble tea
Uncool: Wondered why people like these weird little slimy balls of mystery substance in their smoothies and how on earth this became a trend.

Cool: My bright purple coat in the suburbs.
Uncool: My bright purple coat in Manhattan.

Cool: The fact that I could walk New York with the best of ‘em with no residual muscle soreness the next day.
Uncool: The shoes I had to wear to make that true.

Cool: The fantastic photo I took of my friend’s 9-month-old baby sleepily holding the subway pole like a pro from inside her stroller.
Uncool: The fact that the subway is more interesting to me than it is to a 9-month-old New York baby.

Cool: Being treated like Daddy when I came home. Hugs, kisses, running jumps into my arms, extra snuggles, and grand proclamations of love.
Uncool: The next day when Daddy went back to work and the kids realized I was still just the same boring Mommy they always have to hang out with.

The Monday morning Zumba dilemma

I recently started taking a Zumba class on Monday mornings while my kids are in preschool. It’s awesome. I love the teacher, and I get to show up all healthily flushed with sexy sweaty workout hair at pick-up time and pretend to fit in with all of those sporty moms at my preschool who are training for triathlons and crap. But mostly I just love the teacher and love getting a workout in without having to miss quality time in the evenings with my hubby on the couch watching The Bachelor or The Voice.

Anyway, on to the dilemma. Sooooo let's say, just hypothetically, that you spent the weekend lounging around in your jammies. You cleaned the house and cooked and stuff. It's not like you napped all day. I mean, not both days anyway. Whatever. Your jammies were just so comfy. And no one was coming over. And who really showers on the weekends anyway? Oh, all of you? Really? Crap. Well, OK, I don’t. I showered Friday and then… nothin’.

So then Monday morning rolls around. For those who are math challenged, that’s three days. That’s gross, even by my admittedly lax standards of hygiene. But you’re about to go work out. It would be really dumb to shower right before a workout. But you might have to lift your arms over your head and wave them around and stuff. Your hair looks kind of OK and honestly, you don’t really smell. But what if the sweating activates your latent stink all at once?

What do you do, gentle readers? What do you do?

Oh right. You guys all shower on weekends, huh? Crap.

What I learned about the Super Bowl without watching the Super Bowl

I don’t watch football. Neither does my husband. Last week, he asked me who was playing in the Super Bowl, and I was profoundly proud of myself that I came up with the team names. I didn’t know what city the Patriots came from, but still, I came up with both names. Kudos for me. We had to look it up on google to make sure I was right. That’s the house I live in.

I have joked about a facebook sports filter. On big game nights, my news feed explodes with information about how the local sports team is doing. Half the time, I can name the sport. People who update their facebook status once a week or less suddenly behave as if facebook is twitter. Every emotion. Every play. They care enough to share.

I don’t care. At all.

I considered setting Tivo to record the Super Bowl so I could watch the commercials and the half time show and, you know, fast forward through all of the tedious football. But I didn’t. Instead, I watched last night’s Saturday Night Live and then Californication.

(Side note… I don’t know what color my parachute is, but I want to figure out what color lets me be a writer on Californication.)

I still feel like I was part of it. Facebook. Twitter. Here is what I learned about the Super Bowl from social media, without watching it at all:

It was a hell of a game.

The Giants won. Some people were pissed or sad. Some people were psyched. Lots of people hated both teams and were only watching for the commercials.

Some good commercials were: Samsung, Chevy, Clydesdales, Doritos.

The Ferris Bueller commercial met with mixed reviews. People loved it, but felt like sell-outs for loving it.

Something Clint Eastwood did made people cry.

There is some guy named Eli, and he is Peyton Manning’s little brother, and apparently he does not wear a mouth guard. I am particularly proud of this one, since I would only have been 50-50 on naming Peyton Manning’s sport (although I have heard his name, and would have known he was an athlete of some sort).

Madonna. She’s old but she looks hot. She wants more drag queen impersonators, so she went very sparkly and very gay and wore boots that looked uncomfortable. Did I mention that she looks hot for her age? Oh, and apparently her lip syncing was atrocious.

Madonna did something involving world peace, and a lot of people made Miss America jokes.

Oh, also Madonna was somehow seen as responding to Lady Gaga, even though Lady Gaga is clearly standing on Madonna’s padded perverted shoulders.

LMFAO did something at half time. Most of my friends (admittedly a select group) would have taken more LMFAO and less of everyone else.

Cee Lo made an appearance, but didn’t do anything of note, unlike his butchering of Imagine on New Year’s Eve. All press is good press. Unless you butcher a John Lennon song.

At some point, Betty White appeared, but no one told me what she did. They all just typed, “Betty White!” She is beloved merely for existing.

The Coke commercials sucked.

There was an ad about a fat dog.

Tom Brady has nothing to do with the Brady Bunch, and apparently has a distinctive chin that resembles the naked butt of one of my friend’s kids.

David Beckham did something noteworthy, including, but not necessarily limited to appearing in his underwear.

So there you have it. The Super Bowl XLVI as viewed through my social network. And yes, I used Google News to give me the Roman Numeral.