Friday, April 20, 2012

Bag Lady, Business Lady.

baggage
Library bum.

I come with a lot of baggage.

No, really. I'm not a skeletons-in-the-closet kind of girl, but I do tend to tote a lot of items around with me on any given day. Purse, laptop bag, another bag for things that don't fit in any of the first two . . . it goes on. And I have the red marks on my shoulders to prove it.

Because sitting around in the same place day after day (i.e., my house) tends to drive me nuts, I've been packing a portable office and lugging myself across town to the public library. My latest ventures have had me spending my afternoons here, considering the fact that I've recently had a huge brainstorm of ideas and lots to do. Free desks and Internet, all in a fresh location where I can force myself away from distraction (and relive my familiar college study habits). The crying babies, cell phone talkers, and no-eating-in-study-areas thing can be kind of hindering, though. But that's all right, because today, I haven't yet run into any babies (*note: loud, stomping, baby showed up when I finished this post), there's only one guy talking on his phone and he's at least being quiet, and I snuck a granola bar in my purse (although, I think I may have annoyed the girl across from me while I unsuccessfully tried to unwrap the crinkly paper in a discreet manner).

Statue outside the front doors of the public library. Every time I see these kids, I think they're real.

So, my current agenda is made up of several long lists, one of which serves as a brief for the overhaul of my mom's craft business. A big part of what I'm doing for her right now is building her online (particularly, social media) presence, and aside from the new logos and headers, fan pages, and Etsy storefront, I decided to get her up to speed on a little thing I like to call Pinterest.

Oh, Pinterest. The tease queen of DIY-dom.

For those of you who use Pinterest, you know how addicting it can be. Learn how to cook a different recipe every night of the week, plan your dream vacation, design your future home, put together your wedding--you'll completely lose track of time. All you need is an account and a ready-to-click mouse button. Then, you're ready to pin more creative ideas than you'll ever have time to try in your entire lifetime.

Easy-peasy, right?


WRONG.


As much as I like Pinterest, I have a bit of beef with the site--all relating to their "invitation-only" policy. Google+ did it back in the day, and I didn't like it then, either. The whole idea is to maintain a sense of exclusivity, making users feel like they've passed some kind of special interview to become the newest member of the Internet's most prestigious club. But when everyone and their dog can join the site, and the only hindrance to joining "the club" is waiting an extra day (or week), I don't call that exclusivity. I call it a pain in the butt.

Must be devout, uppity craft snob to join the Pinterest club. But really, must only authorize access to Facebook account.

So, I sent a Pinterest invitation to my mom. Then, I requested another invitation on a spare email account of my own. Then, I repeated steps one and two, just in case Pinterest didn't hear my urgent demands. Then, I sat back and griped about how evil Pinterest is with its new, online monopoly, and I vowed to boycott the site until its services were open to everyone on the Internet.

Then, the next morning, I received an email from Pinterest, saying I could create a new account. And I got over it.

Ah, c'est la vie.

I feel like my mom should've gotten at least 12 invitations by now, especially since I've been sending her email invites for about half a year. Maybe that's the real reason I have the impression that Pinterest puts people on the back burner for so long. Time to teach my mom how to respond to her emails.

Anyway, time to get back to work . . . I hear a crying toddler stomping behind me, and if I don't accomplish something soon, I might pull my hair out.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

2 comments:

  1. Pinterest really isn't that hard, Mama. I promise.

    ReplyDelete

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