Words For Your Enjoyment: Imaginary Friends
September 30th, 2005
Friday is here again.
Which alone, as a statement, gives me the willies if not simply because I once knew a guy in college who would always say the macho combo two pound beef burrito is here again when he’d enter the dorms after making a late night trip to the local Del Taco, only to warn you that he was about to ingest two pounds of beef and some shreds of lettuce and about two hours later you would be wishing he was nowhere near you.
But I try to get over that when Friday arrives.
This week, WFME good buddy Annabel Lee writes: “Hey Pauly, I was wondering… Could you be my imaginary friend?”
Awwwwwwwwww.
Now that everyone has wiped the moist emotion from underneath their lids, can we just all agree how cute that request is? Can we just all get together and do one of those really great group hug things? The kind where nobody really hugs anyone and where everyone’s hands don’t even grasp each other by the shoulder — just where the edges of our elbows jut into each other’s backs in a simulated moment of “quick, let’s get this group hug thing over with so I can eat my macho combo beef burrito?”
Seriously, though — I totally could be her imaginary friend.
And not in the traditional imaginary sense of the word. For if I were to be Annabel’s traditional imaginary friend she would probably talk to me and set places for me at her dinner table and make references to me all the time but in the end I wouldn’t exist whatsoever. People would probably think she was insane and suggest, at this age, that she seek professional help to deal with her “issues.”
But as her imaginary “blog” friend, I would talk to her incessantly (not simply as a disembodied voice in her brain) but as a disembodied voice through IM. I would ask her to save a place for me at the local bar or the local restaurant where she was getting together with her friends (although sometimes I just wouldn’t able to show up) — and she would have to explain that the space was for “her friend Paul.” Of course, everyone would be all like, “Uh, you keep talking about this Paul friend but we’ve never seen him” and she’d be all like, “He’s TOTALLY real, I talk to him all the time.” And they’d be all, “Talk to him how? Like you hear his voice in your head?” And she’d be all like, “Uh, no you idiots — he sends me messages and stuff that I read!”
And they’d be all like, Whatever, Annabel and then make that “crazy/loco” hand signal behind her back that people just don’t make anymore today for some un-P.C. reason and for which I sort of think is a lost, classic “crazy/loco” hand signal that should so come back if courderoy pants are coming back too.
Come to think of it — being her traditional imaginary friend and her imaginary “blog” friend are sort of, kind of, one in the same.
I would probably never meet Annabel in person and our correspondences would probably only ever include IM’s or quick notes that she would never be able to provide as proof to people since everyone these days assumes that “oh, you can just fake that with that pictureshop program.” This is, of course, thanks to every single major movie or TV show these days which always has to get a reference in about Photoshopping this or that since writers on TV shows want to show that they’re down with where technology in this world is at. I would probably never take a picture with Annabel, but she would always be able to tell people that “I was right off camera” and that I was “totally there.” We would share thoughts, anecdotes and jokes — but nothing that would ever be in front of her “real world friends” or “family.”
Basically, like it is with most internet friendships — no one would believe for a second that I exist.
So, when you really get down to asking if I could be your imaginary friend — isn’t it more apropros to ask me if I would “continue to be your imaginary friend” since, well — I already am?
With the net and the blogs and the comments and the IM’s and the seemingly-real conversations we have with people we have NEVER EVER SEEN IN THE FLESH and have NO REAL CONFIRMATION THAT THEY ARE REALLY WHAT OR WHO THEY SAY THEY ARE — aren’t we all having imaginary friendships with dozens of people without every really calling it what it really is?
Doesn’t that sort of make you weep in a I’m going to be 40…someday kind of way?
I don’t like to cry on Fridays. Especially since my old college roommate used to make me cry on Fridays after he would you know what to the you know what no thanks to that monstrosity of a macho combo beef burrito.
Existence sure can make you hungry.
—
In totally unrelated news, after dreaming that I was hanging out with David Letterman on the Late Show in which we had a nice conversation about how great A/C is, I have decided that I am going to invent “The A/C pill” — a pill that, after taking it, makes you feel cold.
hush, paul. we’re not supposed to talk of these “realistic” things such as you actually turning out to be a homeless man that mugged a Hollywood writer for his laptop (equipped with a wi-fi card) and hangs out *just* outside of Starbucks to snag the connection so that he may blog all day and photoshop himself next to beautiful women–all in the name of a certain PAUL DAVIDSON.
because i just know that can’t be true.
wait. what about the bloggers you’ve met/will meet?? what THEN??!!
Comment by kristine — September 30, 2005 @ 8:17 am
I plan on never meeting anyone from the internet. What if they have an annoying accent? Or no legs? What would you do then?
I like to assume that anyone with a picture in their gravatar is probably themselves; why would anyone pretend to look like Paul?
zing.
Comment by Pierce — September 30, 2005 @ 8:31 am
Funny you should say that… since usually when I meet people who I’ve previously known only over IM or e-mail, my first response is, “See? I really am more than just an interactive chat program.”
Comment by Keith — September 30, 2005 @ 8:58 am
You know the best thing about imaginary friends? You never have to worry when they eat macho combo beef burritos.
Comment by annabel lee — September 30, 2005 @ 9:17 am
I took an imaginary sick day today. I have an imaginary cold and I imagined that the baby kept me up all night.
I’m going to go drink my imaginary coffee right now and take an imaginary nap.
When I wake up, this day will have been a dream.
Comment by Amy — September 30, 2005 @ 9:28 am
Aw. You could be her Snuffleupagus.
Comment by EverydaySuperGoddess — September 30, 2005 @ 10:18 am
I don’t exist at all…really, I am non-existant. Don’t even try to prove that I exist. You WILL fail.
K.
Comment by Kris — September 30, 2005 @ 11:06 am
None of us are real. I am sure of it.
Well, I’m real. None of YOU are real. You’re all just there in my brain and WHY WON’T YOU STOP YELLING AT ME.
Sorry. Back to work.
Comment by Pauly D — September 30, 2005 @ 11:10 am
Just imagine that …
Comment by Miladysa — September 30, 2005 @ 11:34 am
so I should stop setting a place for you and ChiChi the Monkey at dinner every night?
*sniffle*
Comment by Hope — September 30, 2005 @ 1:04 pm
ChiChi the Monkey is REAL, ok?
Comment by Pauly D — September 30, 2005 @ 1:11 pm
Gravity is doing a lot to help out our hot pink bathingsuited friend’s tatas, now isn’t it? Dayymmnn!
Comment by Kristine — September 30, 2005 @ 1:38 pm
When?
Someday. . .
In EIGHT years.
PSD, you’ve got me totally wigged out now. Maybe you aren’t real? At least you are fun, even if you are imaginary.
Comment by ms. sizzle — September 30, 2005 @ 3:12 pm
Hey Pauly, Meme said you’re real, but I don’t care if she found you at “Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends,” I believe in you. Of course even if you’re a phantom, it doesn’t matter ’cause you make me laugh. Remember, if it’s a Friday in late September, the play-off games can’t be far behind. Have a good weekend.
Comment by anon — September 30, 2005 @ 4:15 pm
imaginary friends via im, blog comments and email, why do i have more of them than real life friends? maybe because i cherish their talking. Since they do not really know me in person, not really know my habits, my various tendencies, they always tend to give comments, suggestions, and all those between the lines preach without compromising nor fear/worry that i will be mad or sad or whatsoever like my real friends do. sometimes a slap on the face is useful.
Comment by nana — September 30, 2005 @ 6:58 pm
Anon: I love watching Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends with daughter. Truthfully, Paul “may” be real, or he could very well be a figment of someone’s imagination.
I’d like to think he’s real, otherwise AI is getting better every year.
Comment by kartooner — September 30, 2005 @ 8:49 pm
Meant to say, “[with] my daughter” above.
Comment by kartooner — September 30, 2005 @ 8:50 pm
I THINK, THEREFORE YOU ARE.
Comment by nic — October 1, 2005 @ 6:34 am
Wow, there is just no topping that last comment, nic.
Comment by Sara J. — October 1, 2005 @ 12:50 pm
Pauly, I think they have invented a “type” of temporary A/C pill. It’s called ice.
Comment by Cutiepie2 — October 2, 2005 @ 9:36 am
Pauly, you’re as real as the hunk of plasticine in a vaguely Mr. Bill-shaped form watching me silently from the top of my monitor. His name is also Pauly, he also has a blog and his permanent residence is also L.A.
(You’ll be happy to know there are no pins sticking out of any sensitive areas. Not that he’s, you know, YOU or anything).
Comment by Meg — October 3, 2005 @ 11:17 am