So everyone seems to be addicted to pinterest these days unless they are either actively avoiding it because they know they will become addicted to it once they dip their toes in the virtual ocean of creative sharing. . .or they are still waiting to be approved/invited. I'm not going to extol the virtues for very long . . . or the dangers for that matter (how many hours have slipped by while pinning? I don't know), but I thought I'd just mention how I personally choose to use this virtual bulletin board.
There are two basic ways to use pinterest. The more time consuming one is to troll it for ideas. There are tons of good ideas on pinterest. I've found so many different crochet patterns, recipes, and craft ideas. Sometimes things are just there because they are beautiful or funny. I try to avoid aimless searching on pinterest simply because like many other things on the internet (watching cat videos on youtube, looking at funny cat pictures on icanhazcheezburger, sharing funny cat stories, or watching Debbie the Eharmony Cat-lady again. . .) you can start it just intending to kill a few minutes while you wait for your tea to boil and several hours later you are realizing you should've gone to bed hours ago or wondering where your afternoon went. . . if you have a particular goal in mind (an exciting recipe to try, a crochet pattern you want, etc), though, there are a lot of ideas on pinterest just waiting to be snatched up.
The second way is to use it like a book mark organizer. As someone who tends to abuse the bookmarks bar on her google chrome, it is a relief to have pinterest to organize the links to recipes that I intend to cook someday or crafts I really want to do but haven't had the time for yet. If my google search for "what's for dinner" yields multiple options, I can save some effortlessly on my "cooking" pin board. If I see a good idea that I don't want to do now but don't want to risk forgetting, I "put a pin in it" and there it stays.
I'm also an internet show off. I like to believe that I am influencing people. I like to believe people care about my ideas. I like to believe that I'm helping people out by sharing useful pins that I find. Sure, it is cool to repin someone else's pin, but nothing, and I mean nothing, beats discovering something on the internet, pinning it, and getting dozens of "repin" notices telling you that because of you dozens of strangers out there on the interwebs now know how to prepare their own baby food, crochet their own market bags, and sing the Eharmony Cat Lady song (Yeah, the Eharmony Cat Lady is big around here right now. . . ). Maybe it is all an illusion of importance, but I really want to believe that I have somehow caused people to benefit from my obsessive sharing. Pathological? Maybe. But we crazy cat ladies have to get our kicks somehow.