My Latvian Imaginary Friend

This was one of the search terms on my blog today. And I’d like to thank the poor unfortunate out there who typed it into Google and got the cogs in my tired, Gimpy-addled brain turning again.

I never had an imaginary friend as a child but if I had, I imagine it would have been someone supportive and positive, always ready with a smile or a kind word when nobody else wanted to be bothered with me.

Now I’m thinking about what my childhood, or indeed, the rest of my life, would have been like if I’d had a Latvian imaginary friend…

While wriggling into my dungarees, would she have rolled her eyes and asked me if I was really going to go out dressed like that?

Would she have made me cut up all my teddies in an effort to create something that resembled a miniature fur and animal print number?

Would my Day-to-Night Barbie constantly have been stuck in Night mode?

Would she have made me surrender my t-bar sandals and socks for something a little more towering? I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have been seen dead accompanying me anywhere on my tin can roller skates.

Whenever I tripped and skinned my knees (which was often), would she have glared into my teary eyes and wondered why she had ended up with the weak, mollycoddled Westerner when there were so many better options out there?

Would she have taught me how to snot rocket at the boys who were mean to me, instead of simply punching them?

Would I now believe that articles are pretty much a waste of time, and omit them from my speech wherever possible? Would I say things like ‘I have two bad newses for you…’?

Would she have convinced me that Irish pork products are not, in fact, superior, and swung me round to a more lardy way of thinking?

Would I believe that nobody, but nobody, except my dearest friends, has the right to ask me how I am?

Would I think that hiding in a bush close to my boyfriend’s place is a perfectly acceptable, even normal, way to spend an entire evening?

Would I now know how to forage in the forest to find everything necessary to make my dinner, instead of nipping to the nearest supermarket?

Thankfully (or not, depending on whether you think foraging and glaring are useful life skills), we’ll never know as I had this chick as my ‘real life’ friend.

Guess which one I am. Hint: I haven't grown much...

Guess which one I am. Hint: I haven’t grown much…

But, looking at this photo now, maybe our mothers could have done with a couple of Latvian imaginary friends when it came to choosing our wardrobes?

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About BerLinda

Adjusting to life in Germany, after living in Latvia for four years. Should be easy, right?
This entry was posted in Humor, Humour, Travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

45 Responses to My Latvian Imaginary Friend

  1. Anna says:

    Equal parts adorable and terrifying!

  2. Thanks for letting me camp out in your blog for a little while today. I had a great time and tried to leave my campsite as good as when I arrived. I’ll be back!

  3. gina4star says:

    haha, glad you didn’t have a Latvian imaginary friend! 😛 Such a cute photo! 🙂

  4. 1WriteWay says:

    Linda, you are a survivor! And I’m glad you didn’t have a Latvian imaginary friend … you would probably be writing very different, very dark blog posts if you had 😉

  5. rjschutte says:

    Very sweet. You still do the same with your eyes when you are laughing 😉

  6. Michelle Egan says:

    Wardrobe AND hairstyles. We look like two little boys 🙂

  7. I saw T-Bar in the tags on my reader! This is not what I was expecting…

  8. lafemmet says:

    Your beautiful brown eyes gave you away! And for the record my mum`s sense of style matches yours!

    • Expat Eye says:

      Ha ha, poor you – and all of us!! I have a very fetching shot of me in a red bikini, socks and t-bar sandals somewhere as well… 😉

  9. pollyheath says:

    So adorable! And strange as I’ve just been trolling through my own childhood photos since I’ve been home.

    I think, for all our sakes, it’s good you didn’t end up with a tiny, invisible Latvian by your side.

  10. Aw, dungarees… 😉

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