Greta inspired this post by last night making me laugh harder than I have in a long time. Every once in a while we like to take a step back and reflect on how weird tulpamancy seems to outsiders: here I am talking to someone I can’t see for hours and writing and publishing thousands of words on how this is really important. And so, in the midst of this reflection, we had the following exchange:
N. I love being able to have a conversation with an imaginary woman.[terminology note]
G. I’m not “imaginary,” I’m “physically challenged.”
In honor of this moment, we thought we’d have some fun and be a bit narcissistic and share a few more of these on this off-week. The reflection and advice associated with this post is the following: If your system doesn’t keep a quote book, you should definitely start; it’s great fun, and as we like to say, everything is seven times funnier written down a year later. (See also the discussion of Helen and the salt in this essay about keeping a diary.)
After I accidentally kneed the spot where Greta was lying:
I don’t mind kneeings. It builds character.
N. This [arrangement of cards] sucks.
G. That’s rude. The cards can’t help it.
After hurting myself in the kitchen:
N. I’m stupid.
G. We already knew that.
On a walk in the woods (to Greta’s credit, it did sound quite a lot like this):
N. Ah, [the sound of] the wind through the frozen trees…
G. Are you sure it’s not someone pissing?
This one’s a catchphrase:
N. You’re right.
G. I’m always right.
N. I keep forgetting things this morning.
G. Is that different from every morning?
And last but not least, the perennial cheap smart-ass joke:
N. Can you say something, Greta?
(N.B.: My use of the word “imaginary” was for effect while reflecting on the apparent craziness of tulpamancy; owing to the word’s opposition to “real”, I would very rarely describe Greta thus otherwise.)