Second Life

Tuesday is the new day off. Yay! I was feeling like I really needed it. For one thing, my foot is is killing me. Plantar fasciitis. From back in the days when I ran. Which was a long freaking time ago, so I’m not happy that it still recurs. All the other aches are pretty much as per usual — oh, except my shins. Shins?!! What’s up with that? All I can think is laghu vajrasana and kapotasana, maybe. Oh well.

So since there was no practice today, last night I did what all teeny Ashtanginis do: ate a lot. Spaghetti AND ice cream. And even a drink. I’ve been totally off the booze for weeks — after noticinig how even one drink in the evening makes me feel vaguely depressed in the next morning’s dawn hours. Kind of hard to give it up: The Cop and I generally had a drink together out at dinner on “date nights” (Tuesday and Sunday evenings), and it was a nice ritual. He’s been gracious about my abstinence.

Spent some time last night (since I got to stay up late! like 10PM!) goofing around with Second Life. As My Gift said, when I asked her if she was familiar with it and told her I am looking at it as a potential environment for virtual class events: “Your plans sound like ‘The Sims: Business Edition.’ Kind of lame, but probably more fun than people who work in offices usually get to have.”

I got myself all set up with the software and launched into the program. Had to pick an avatar. Well, a harajuku girl, of course! Then I found myself “born” (you see yourself fade into view, fully grown) on “Orientation Island.” Humorously, and kind of freakily, and also kind of touchingly, you can see all the other new players coming alive around you continuously. Offers a rather visceral notion of population growth.

I looked around, and all the people looked like… like regular people (jeans, ponytails, sneakers). Huh?!?! When you can look like a goth anime or a harajuku?! Then I saw a guy with an animal avatar, like a fuzzy animal fetishist. “Weirdo!” I thought. And then, “Oh wait, people are probably thinking that about me, too!”

Some people started trying to talk to me right away. But I wasn’t socializing. I tried flying (yes, flying!), and then I made my legs more muscular. Hey, this is kind of like real life! With no easily discernable instructions, I set off. Eventually found a car, into which I climbed, and took off. Drove with no sense of direction and rather clumsily in what turned out to be useless circles. Yes, this is JUST like real life!

People tried to engage me in interactions, but I just wanted to look around. As soon as I found a sign, I headed toward the tutorials on how to communicate, feeling rather alien and disoriented. Yup, like real life. All of this took at least an hour.

And so today, in the spirit of being myself in both real and second lives, I’m going to search for information about this system and figure out how to optimize my performance.

I wonder if they have yoga?


9 Responses

  1. “night I did what all teeny Ashtanginis do: ate a lot. ”

    ha ha ha 😀

  2. you know, I just gotta say, that you might be the sweetest of all of the young ladies around these parts. You’re all a nice group of gals, but your comments have warmed this old sales dog’s heart like none other. I don’t know what zen has to do with donuts or moms but you’re A-Okay in my book lady.

    Reminds me of one time when I was selling those weird little sand gardens. I think they were zen brand, too. never could figure out what they were for but those long-haired kids sure took a shine to them. 35% margin on those babies!

    you could use some widgets, though! 😉


  3. Donuts, we need to talk. Turns out that last night you had not two lives but THREE. I dreamed that in the middle of a murder mystery I was living out on the streets of Mexico City, all the characters of my Clue-like fantasy were transported to Arizona, where we visited you and The Cop in your TWO desert vacation homes (they were incredibly tasteful in the minimalist style– just my thing). The Cop seemed to know secrets to the overall mystery, but in the first house he would not speak. When you ushered us downn the path to the second house, he began to dance like a leprecaun and sing jibberish (echoes of David Lynch?– but he was full-sized and handsome–looked exactly like a cattle rancher I know in Montana). Last thing that happened before the dream wafted back off to Mexico City was that the Cop was doing a jig on some beautiful stonework in a fountain while I tried to find my way to the house’s exit and pursue my original mystery. I was a really detailed and vivid dream late in the night, but this is all I can remember now.

    Jury’s out on what it all signifies.

  4. The Cop is, in fact, the strong, silent type, and quite handsome. He has also expressed interest in being a rancher in Montana. You’re on to something (0v0)! I’ll check out his leprechaun dancing skills when I get home and let you know how well he does with that. Relatively well I’ll bet, now that I think of it, given he’s Irish. Now you’re just scaring me!

    I don’t have even a single vacation home, but you are welcome to visit the desert homestead any time you find yourself in these parts.

    Gil, I will check out the widgets. You are an excellent salesman in the finest tradition of old-fashioned salesmen: 90% narrative, 10% sales.

  5. I didn’t mention that in the dream, he was Irish (like myself). For some reason that felt like too much to say, in the last comment. Creepy.

    I think the two homes represented successive “chambers” of the the castle of spiritual devolpment–a metaphor that shows up in Christian mysticism and gets compared to the chakras. From contemplation (silence) to ecstasy (dancing), maybe. So I don’t think that new brick-and-mortar homes are involved.

    I’ve had what my brother and my sweetheart call “telepathy problems” since Kapotasana. It’s not something I talk about.

    Or blog about.


  6. Oh, I’d very much like to hear about the telepathy issues. I am loving kapotasana lately, and if I get extra telepathic sensitivities as well… well, that’d just be TOO good.

  7. We’ll have to communicate about this telepathically.

  8. Okay, I’ll be waiting for a transmission this evening.

  9. Interesting! this last month I’ve had strange dreams. Once I woke up at 1am telling myself that I needed to ask my coworker if she was ok, because in my dream she was crying. On the other one, I “found out” that He had become a father of a baby girl and his current girlfriend (not the mother of the girl) was pregnant now. Wonder if there is/was any ounce of truth in them.

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