The Dictionary of Imaginary Places is a book filled with all the make believe places writers throughout the years have created and used in various books. Listed in this dictionary are places like Dream Island, located in the Atlantic Ocean. Travelers to Dream Island are advised to arrive at dusk. Or how about Fionavar, a land of undetermined location. Not even GPS can find this island. Then there is Makalolo, a small country in central Africa inhabited by a tribe of women warriors. Some of the imaginary places sound fun to visit, like the places where women wear shoes on their head and men wear hats on their feet. Other places, such as Paul, a vast place, inhabited by a spider the size of a man, not so fun. Visitors who are brought to Paul spend the rest of their lives watching the spider in terror. Sorta like being forced to watch episode after episode of the Kardashian family.
I've come up with a few imaginary places of my own which I liked to see become real. First a auto repair shop with a mechanic who looks like this --
This mechanic would answer all my questions about my vehicle in a non patronizing manner without speaking to me as if I had just crawled out from under a rock. This mechanic, let's call him Luke, would replace only parts needed, fix my car correctly the first time, and charge me a fair price. He might even smile and wave goodbye to me and say thank you for coming to his shop. I would put Luke on my Christmas card list.
In my imaginary world dressing rooms would reflect my accurate appearance beneath flattering lighting. There are solid doors which lock, and no little children crying or peeking underneath to see me in my bra. Wait this red nightmare doesn't look like my imaginary dressing room at all. It looks like the kind with mirrors that either trick me in thinking I look great in a dress, or gasp, make me look older or fatter. There are only tiny little chairs, no place to safely set my purse or coat, curtains that someone could just shove open And blood red! All style and no substance. Sigh. I've come across this type of dressing room far too often. Just like women's restrooms, this dressing room was designed by a man. Let's move on.
Here is an imaginary world from the past, where the doctor actually comes out in the waiting room and the nurse is in an actual starched white uniform and not wearing scrubs that are bright purple with puppy dogs. Both the doctor and nurse are actually older than me. Imagine that. The waiting room looks cozy, why there is even a dog, and the doctor is kind and concerned (with the proof of his medical degree is right on the wall and I bet he went to school right here in America.) There is no tired and stressed receptionist asking to see your insurance card or asking how the hell you plan to pay if you don't have insurance. This doctor makes house calls. Alas, I think this imaginary world has come and gone.
In my final imaginary world, there would be no cell phones. We would actually meet for coffee or go for walks together. We'd look into people's eyes. The thought of just texting someone on their birthday or leaving a voice mail message (there is no voice mail messaging either) to break up with them would never happen in this imaginary world. Okay that could get inconvenient to but, hey, I can dream of a world where we communicate and connect with one another. Where we actually have TIME.
In the meantime, I'm going to go try on clothes at Ross beneath self esteem destroying bright lights while my oil is getting changed and leave a message with my doctor's office and hope I can get an appointment. Then I'll hurry to work. Back to reality.