Well, that makes sense.
How would she get along with another one of herself?
Emily imagines another her opening the front door and coming into the kitchen.
"Hello, Emily," she might say.
"Hello, Emily," she might reply.
"Nice weather we're having," she might say.
"Really? That's what you want to talk about? Not the mysterious femininity powers or the possibility that Other Parent might have been an angel?" she might respond, starting to get into it.
"Well, I've been traveling the multiverse with my mysterious femininity powers for years now," the other Emily might explain. "So I've had a chance to get used to them. Also, Other Parent turns out to have been distantly related to almost every fantastical creature I've come across."
Emily imagines the other Emily a bit older now, clearly having grown into having a face that could launch ships.
"So why are you here? There's no epic quest going on here," she points out.
The other Emily seats herself at the other side of the kitchen table, daintily crossing her legs. She somehow manages to sit down without awkwardly trapping her poofy skirt against the side of the chair.
"You don't think picking the powers that you'll use to become me counts as an epic quest?" the other Emily asks.
"But you're not really here. I'm imagining this," Emily points out.
"Just because it's all in your head doesn't mean it's not real," the other Emily replies, smiling a knowing smile.
"So you're just here to help me pick? Isn't that a bit ... time-travel-y?"
"Well, that's why you started imagining me, isn't it, to see how we'd get along?"
Emily — the real Emily, sitting alone in her kitchen — blinks, suddenly thrown from the daydream.
Other mes would be way too smug and enigmatic.
She informs the notebook, avoiding turning this into a moment of self-reflection with the ease of long practice.