Do most children outgrow their imaginary friends (IFs)? I say phooey. Often, IFs take charge of their host organisms when they become adults and speak through them. Someone has to.
(Note: To learn more about IFs, who can be both nurturing and nasty, click on the following link (or copy to your browser.)
IFs are in the air as witnessed by James Patterson's new book, Sundays at Tiffany's. Hmmm, I haven't met this IF, and he sounds hot. Story of my life. Oh well, read thestar online review here:
Or check out the movie Drop Dead Fred about the IF from hell (see video clips at bottom of this blog page). This isn't Oscar stuff, but it entertains. I've not met this Fred guy either, for which I'm thankful. He's not my type, and he makes all IFs look like freaks. Whatever. To each his own technique, and his was eventually successful...which leads back to my situation in life. Unlike the power babe protag of Sundays at Tiffany's and the guy-fantasy Phoebe Cates in Drop Dead Fred, my host organism is ho-hum. If left to her own devices, she would read novels, scarf corn chips and chew her nails 24/7. So, I grit my perfect white teeth, shove her off the sofa and put the fear of IF into her. It’s all about dishing out tough love, and she and I go back a long way; we met during her parents’ divorce when she was four years old. Life stresses being what they are, it’s been impossible to leave her since then except for an occasional well-earned holiday in, of course, a tropical locale.
I won’t reveal my host organism's name as she is, I suppose, my BFF and due a certain amount of privacy. For your frame of reference and my gratification, however, I will say that she and I are physical opposites.
She is of medium height, olive complexion and curly hair, with a big tushie and what used to be a small waist. For work or special occasions, she trails dressy hippie garb and two swipes of mascara. For casual, she schleps around in college sweatshirt chic and the odd, lashless look of a rabbit. She’s married to a stock broker, who once wore sexy, pin-striped suits. But these days, he hates the market and, in stained t-shirts and baggy shorts, spends large chunks of time shooing squirrels off his jungle of backyard tomato vines. Somehow, this couple produced a lovely, stylish, high-maintenance daughter, now in college, who swipes her bank card as often as possible.
This is the world in which IFs operate because our technology hasn’t advanced enough to allow us to fully function in reality. Sadly, you might never see that I am 5’8”, slim, with a smooth dark blonde French twist (I often succumb to golden highlights) and a closet full of designer, OCD-aligned frocks and shoes. As is my habit though, I will most likely mention these attributes often, and, when What Not to Wear creates an Imaginary Friend spin-off, the bossy on-air job is mine.
Enough about me for now. In future blogs, I will dish out slice-of-life rants and raves from my POV for your consumption. I hope you like smorgasbord.
I won’t reveal my host organism's name as she is, I suppose, my BFF and due a certain amount of privacy. For your frame of reference and my gratification, however, I will say that she and I are physical opposites.
She is of medium height, olive complexion and curly hair, with a big tushie and what used to be a small waist. For work or special occasions, she trails dressy hippie garb and two swipes of mascara. For casual, she schleps around in college sweatshirt chic and the odd, lashless look of a rabbit. She’s married to a stock broker, who once wore sexy, pin-striped suits. But these days, he hates the market and, in stained t-shirts and baggy shorts, spends large chunks of time shooing squirrels off his jungle of backyard tomato vines. Somehow, this couple produced a lovely, stylish, high-maintenance daughter, now in college, who swipes her bank card as often as possible.
This is the world in which IFs operate because our technology hasn’t advanced enough to allow us to fully function in reality. Sadly, you might never see that I am 5’8”, slim, with a smooth dark blonde French twist (I often succumb to golden highlights) and a closet full of designer, OCD-aligned frocks and shoes. As is my habit though, I will most likely mention these attributes often, and, when What Not to Wear creates an Imaginary Friend spin-off, the bossy on-air job is mine.
Enough about me for now. In future blogs, I will dish out slice-of-life rants and raves from my POV for your consumption. I hope you like smorgasbord.
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