When you love outside your own timezone, there will be casualties.
I always felt we existed in a kind of twilight, since my early mornings were his evenings, and vice versa, though once the torrent of words began, whole days and nights could and did disappear. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't bear to tear myself away. After a while, though, one of us had to, and so he did.
I rented Idle Rogue within a month of rezzing. It was to be a space to build, so it didn't matter that it was a mountainside block. I covered it with trees and a pagoda, put in a chess table and sine wave's kung fu balls (better than sex - though frankly I have nothing on which to base that comparison).
As he withdrew from Second Life, he added me more and more to his real life, always with the understanding that he would be back. And from time to time, often, really, he did come back. And when he wasn't there, I waited for him. I don't wait easily, so I got busy.
First it was a Christmas Party. My first actual building ~lol~ a platform that looked like an iced pond, but it was fun. There was lots of fun there. After the christmas party was over, I came up with the idea of an all day music festival, and that grew out of hand to include a designer market. Idle Rogue Live was successful, so we thought we may as well address the shortcomings of the venue. A sleepless weekend later, Idle Rogue stood as it now stands. I have much love for that building. It will stand for some time yet.
By then, of course, I was learning the hard lesson that all aspiring live venues must learn: live acts are expensive, and operators get very little return on the fee they pay to have an act appear. Avis rarely tip the venue, and they disappear as soon as the act is over. It was always our aim to be self-supporting inworld ... but I lack the skills to be a successful content creator.
I had an idea to put together a "show", something different to, or more than, a live act. I wanted to run a blues night, and couple a performance from Arman Finesmith to, I hoped, a performance by a traveling burlesque troupe. And it was on my hunt for this traveling burlesque troupe that I walked into Ellie's Burlesque Club on Jupyter. I walked out with a job, and a burlesque diva was born.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
rezzday musing (cross-posted from LiveJournal)
It is my rezzday tomorrow. I joined Second Life on October 4th, one year ago, thinking it might be a cool way to chat. I always loved chat, but had been offline for several years. When I came back, none of the old crew seemed to be chatting any more. And then I remembered I'd heard about a thing called Second Life.
I really had no idea, I must say. I look at the people I know now, my new crew, and they all had some idea of what it was, and what it involved. I didn't think about things like content creation, I'd never heard the term. I wasn't a gamer, I was a chatter. I rezzed, rushed through Orientation, and set about changing the way I looked. Within days I was scooping up freebies and had found the "rebel enclave" on my home sim. That was where I could get a chat, certainly not at the mainstream events, where a tired old clique were running tired old events and getting their lols out of taking potshots at noobs. I look at how I looked then and I gotta laugh, but hey, I was trying. I'll tell you something else, through all that's happened since, I stil lurve noobs, and I still spend hours with them getting them to where they want to be.
I still went to the mainstream events, even though they were unrewarding. And on my fourth day there, Y approached me and offered me a better lip piercing (and thank God, cus you should have seen the bullring I was wearing). I don't remember what he was wearing (though I assume, now, it was the preppy set from Redgrave), I just remember his way of chatting. Articulate, concise, overly-courteous. Here, at last, was someone who could wield words!
Y was a month older than me, but had been "at" the game solidly. And he was a natural creator, with a creator's curiosity. Everything he'd learned to that point he told or taught to me. Everything he learned beyond that point, we learned together. For the first few days, we worked on the lip piercing, he, in his infinite way, tweaking and refining it, me wearing and re-wearing it, learning how to move prims and edit my appearance. When finally the piercing was right, what had been casual conversation and instruction became a true dialogue. And I was smitten. Oh ... so smitten.
It is a year later, and Y is mine no more. But what a year it was. All I've learned, all I gained, all I lost. All entwined with him, and with my utter adoration of him. All on the marvellous eye-popping grid, in every way, so much more than I had prepared myself for.
I really had no idea, I must say. I look at the people I know now, my new crew, and they all had some idea of what it was, and what it involved. I didn't think about things like content creation, I'd never heard the term. I wasn't a gamer, I was a chatter. I rezzed, rushed through Orientation, and set about changing the way I looked. Within days I was scooping up freebies and had found the "rebel enclave" on my home sim. That was where I could get a chat, certainly not at the mainstream events, where a tired old clique were running tired old events and getting their lols out of taking potshots at noobs. I look at how I looked then and I gotta laugh, but hey, I was trying. I'll tell you something else, through all that's happened since, I stil lurve noobs, and I still spend hours with them getting them to where they want to be.
I still went to the mainstream events, even though they were unrewarding. And on my fourth day there, Y approached me and offered me a better lip piercing (and thank God, cus you should have seen the bullring I was wearing). I don't remember what he was wearing (though I assume, now, it was the preppy set from Redgrave), I just remember his way of chatting. Articulate, concise, overly-courteous. Here, at last, was someone who could wield words!
Y was a month older than me, but had been "at" the game solidly. And he was a natural creator, with a creator's curiosity. Everything he'd learned to that point he told or taught to me. Everything he learned beyond that point, we learned together. For the first few days, we worked on the lip piercing, he, in his infinite way, tweaking and refining it, me wearing and re-wearing it, learning how to move prims and edit my appearance. When finally the piercing was right, what had been casual conversation and instruction became a true dialogue. And I was smitten. Oh ... so smitten.
It is a year later, and Y is mine no more. But what a year it was. All I've learned, all I gained, all I lost. All entwined with him, and with my utter adoration of him. All on the marvellous eye-popping grid, in every way, so much more than I had prepared myself for.
To my chagrin, I have attempted this once before, over at LiveJournal. Here, for the purpose of elucidation is my first post from there:
"And here I am. Twice. Once in each of my lives. It's occurred to me that some of the things I get up to in my Second Life are not that interesting to people in my real life ... and vice versa. Not to mention I've some angsty Second Life stuff I really need to get out of my system, and the people on my contact list have run out of patience listening to it. In my real life, I have found journalling my thoughts and experiences to be cathartic. So I'm thinking the same approach might work for poor poor chry, who always has such a lot on her cartoon mind."
From which you may deduce my RL has a blog, too, somewhere on LiveJournal. Don't go, it's 600+ posts of dull dull dull, and gets updated less than Plurk. On the other hand, chry really wants to vent some things, so I'll try to be a good blogger. Of course, I'm a noob here, so don't be expecting all that fancy-schmancy slurling and linking. Yet.
I'm here because friends blog here, and it's easier if I try to keep up from one space. Important things to know: I love my second life, often at the risk of my first; I am big on words; and I have a chronically lazy little finger on my right hand. It annoys me much more than it will ever annoy you.
Next post will be my rezzday musing from the beginning of October, posting of which will allow me to kill off the livejournal account. I'm moving in, blogger, fix the damned elevator.
"And here I am. Twice. Once in each of my lives. It's occurred to me that some of the things I get up to in my Second Life are not that interesting to people in my real life ... and vice versa. Not to mention I've some angsty Second Life stuff I really need to get out of my system, and the people on my contact list have run out of patience listening to it. In my real life, I have found journalling my thoughts and experiences to be cathartic. So I'm thinking the same approach might work for poor poor chry, who always has such a lot on her cartoon mind."
From which you may deduce my RL has a blog, too, somewhere on LiveJournal. Don't go, it's 600+ posts of dull dull dull, and gets updated less than Plurk. On the other hand, chry really wants to vent some things, so I'll try to be a good blogger. Of course, I'm a noob here, so don't be expecting all that fancy-schmancy slurling and linking. Yet.
I'm here because friends blog here, and it's easier if I try to keep up from one space. Important things to know: I love my second life, often at the risk of my first; I am big on words; and I have a chronically lazy little finger on my right hand. It annoys me much more than it will ever annoy you.
Next post will be my rezzday musing from the beginning of October, posting of which will allow me to kill off the livejournal account. I'm moving in, blogger, fix the damned elevator.
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