Dreamlife

I may as well do this now, since I had a dream last night which probably came from Second Life.  I won't go into the details (it involved an escape from a grey, office-like building on broomsticks - the symbolism of which is too obvious to discuss, and probably I share too much even there).

But it got me back to thinking about Second Life, which is like a dream.  Sometimes it resembles a dream only in that the glitches and wayward animations cause it to resemble the fractured, twisted version of reality we experience in our sleep.  Walking through walls, wandering haphazardly through still, weightless oceans and watching the landscape resolve slowly out of the mist all combine to disjoint the smoothly consistent world Linden Labs have created for us.  Sometimes frustratingly, sometimes hilariously, sometimes just plain bafflingly.

But it's the intentionally unreal elements which really make it a dream.  One can walk across open ground - in a manner of one's choosing, once you have mastered animation replacement - and, at a whim, bound into the air and stay there.  Hovering.  Then push forward and you're flying.  It's an immense feeling of freedom.  Gravity is suddenly optional, effortless flight simply another way to get around - in fact, one of the best ways to get around.  It beats walking, and cars need roads.  It's a dream we've all had at some point, I'm sure.  It's reached the point of cliche, but its integration into Second Life reinvigorates it, infuses it with some of the simple joy of unconscious wish-granting.

Getting long now, so I won't go too much into teleportation.  The black screen, the whizzing, thumping background noises, the sudden arrival - unruffled, with no jet lag - at a new location... I think it's obvious how this mimics the jerky narrative jump-cuts of dream stories.  It's like dozing your way through several scenarios; will you open your eyes and see a rolling landscape of trees and fireflies or will it be a writhing mass of simulated humanity?  You know, because you choose your location, but you don't know.  You can't count on anything.  It's a dream.

"Second" is probably pushing it.

So I'm getting into Second Life.  I confess I was deeply sceptical to begin with.  I said, quite clearly, that I had absolutely no interest in it at all.

But it was downloaded onto the computer, anyway.  And then I heard the laughter coming from the living room and was forced out of my grump to find out what all the fuss was.  Turns out, Flapjack had materialised her avatar naked.  And her naked avatar was not having the best time on Tutorial Island, or whatever it's called.  Much hilarity followed, and I ended up with my own account.

Which has been fun, and if this wasn't already a huge post I'd talk about miniature trains and magic carpets, pirate women and cups of tea.  But maybe later.  I vowed not to spend any real money to acquire the fake currency of Linden dollars - though just how fake a currency with an exchange rate and an apparent actual real world value actually is is clearly debateable - and indeed with my Desdemona I have yet to spend a single penny.  I have earned L$60, which may sound a reasonable sum, but when you realise that the exchange rate makes L$ look like lira it's pretty paltry.  Still, as a woman it's not that hard to pick up decent free stuff and generally wander about quite happily without expenditure.  Without, importantly, resorting to the sex trade.  Although if I did want to resort to that, jesus there's no shortage of opportunity.

Then I felt the need to indulge my masculine side.  So I created another free account - WHICH I KNOW YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO - with a man.  Different story.  Different sort of game, you'll not be surprised to hear.  This one needs money.  You can't rely on freebies for men.  You can't make your own clothes as easily, and male skins?  Forget it.  Still, spending £5 gave me over L$2000, so it's not like I went crazy.  And it was fun having money.  The feeling of freedom when in a shop - previously an intimidating experience, one where I could only look and wonder - was rather glorious.  Nice hat.  I'll take it.  Maybe I'll wear it.  Nice suit - and gosh, it is a nice suit - I'll have that too.  He looks rather smart now, and actually like a man.  This is a big change from playing The Sims, where the men are simply broader-shouldered females.

I've much more to say, but I think I need bite-sized chunks.  I'll talk about sex, and people, and more, probably, about money some other time.  They're all interesting subjects.  And design, and freedom, and dreams.

So I lied

Sue me.

I've been busy. Since I posted it's been all about the life-events. We're actually definitely getting married - we have the little thing that says we have booked the register office, our names have been up on the notice board (anyone who wanted to object - tough titties! Time's up! You'll have to dramatically interrupt the ceremony now*!). It's very, very exciting.

I've been promoted! W00t! Go me. I'm no longer a filing clerk, I'm now an administrator! Yes, I wear glasses and look stern. I also act efficient, and send snippy emails. This is the first promotion I have ever received. I deserved it, too. Anyway, this does mean I'm faaar to busy to post on my blog. Okay, not true. Faaar too lazy to do it.

I have, on the back of this, got a new phone. Gaze upon it and feel the wonder. Feel it! Yeah? Yeah! You're feeling it. Anyway, it's got zzzzippy internet, so who knows what'll happen with Blogger? Same as usual, of course, but maybe some random posts here and there to keep the flame alive.

*Please don't interrupt the ceremony.

Carousel!

Well, the jewel in my palm turns red today.  I've been keeping a blog (on and off, off for a couple of months...) since I was 24, maybe 23.  I lose track.  24.  A long time.  And I'm still at it, to the enrichment of exactly nobody.  Still, here we go again.  I shall attempt to renew my updating in the new year.  I have a new camera, so expect my flickr page to get busier, too.

How was Christmas?  I did attempt to post here from my phone when I'd bought my first pressies, because I was so pleased to have got them in November.  But it went wrong and I got all disheartened.  I got - this is so mad - a pirate's treasure chest.  Oh, yes.  Other things as well, but that is most blogworthy.  A chest.  Of booty.  Okay, it's a board game, but it's a lovely one.  I don't have a tricorn hat, though.  Hint, hint.