But when reality collides with technology, we get a new breed of distraction. The virtual reality that exists on Facebook and sites like Pinterest can lead us to believe that life is either perfect or frustrating, the in between is usually lacking. And the paradox between the two is often laughable.
Take Pinterest, for example. A virtual land filled with casseroles laden with cream of mushroom soup and "thinspiration" photos. Now you can simultaneously bake cream cheese crescent rolls while chanting "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" and find the perfect recipe for a Cake Batter Protein shake for that workout you might attempt someday! I can't help but laugh at the irony of it all. If we put as much effort into living a healthy life as we put into our virtual pinboards, we'd at least be getting somewhere. But looking at retouched images of fitness models with unrealistic mantras is so self defeating, it's almost insane. I fully realize that I can be "sore tomorrow or sorry tomorrow" but if my husband happens to work late that day and I don't have a babysitter available, I'm not getting to the gym. But hey, at least I can drown my sorrows in a vat of "the perfect broccoli cheddar soup" and buy something called a Pocahontas Dolmon Top that I don't need from an oh-so-chic website straight out of Utah.
Flip flops with huge bows! Sheer blouses with heart cutouts on the back! It will be so much fun to wear them together with a chevron skirt to my moms club meeting next week! It all appeals to my inner fourteen year old and fuels a need to dress cuter, be fitter, cook more often, etc. It's also completely maddening when the amazing dress I've been searching for was only sold at a boutique in Australia, three years ago. Maybe they should change the name to Pineterest to describe the painful longing you experience for something that doesn't exist or was never available to you in the first place.
Don't get me wrong, it's a fantastic thing to share ideas and it's completely gratifying to find things that improve your quality of life. And those things do exist out there in the social media galaxy. But do they make up for the massive black hole of time and energy these websites siphon out of us? That remains to be seen. Until then, I'll happily reorganize my pantry with the perfect apothecary jars and vintage decanters I've searched a hundred sites to find. Until my toddler smashes them all into a thousand pieces on a Teddy Grahams bender and I trade perfection for practicality. Maybe I'll stick with my Oxo containers after all.
