In Another Life

Recently I signed up to enter Second Life; A virtual world that has been around for a few years, and has sort of already had its 15 minutes of fame. You don't hear too much about it lately. Except on Science Friday, which has its own island "in world."

I haven't done much yet aside from create my avatar. I named her Jemma, as in a combo of Jennifer and Emma. That quiz on Facebook that was going around said that if I was born today, my (not creative) parents would have probably called me Emma. I like it because it reminds one of Jane Austen and therefore sounds British.

People in virtual worlds like Second Life join for all different reasons. It's fairly common for citizens in these places to want to make their life as different as possible from their real life. They may give their avatar a crazy fantastical appearance, or just make it look like a dream version of themselves. The way they wished they could look. There must be some who want the avatar to be as realistic as possible. To represent them in this world. Not to be anything he or she is not. I don't think you hear about those kinds of people much. But I am one of them. Aside from the British sounding name, everything else about Jemma so far is fairly close to my reality. I could have just kept the default female avatar body, but I wanted to see what I actually look like walking around in the world. So I made her short and curvy, with a large ass and muscular legs. Big feet, olive skin, dark eyes and hair. I even made her jaw a bit long and gave her dark circles under her eyes. I haven't got it all 100% right yet. The appearance editor in Second Life is even more sophisticated and specific than I know what to do with. I'm not sure the exact length of my torso, the angle of my nose, or the slope of my cheeks. Or the degree of bowleggedness or pigeon toe my walk is. How can I be sure what my exact proportions would look like if plugged into a computer? I can only approximate. At first I made my butt a bit too big. Like you could see each raised cheek under my dress. I think mine is more wide than it is plump. It's hard to say. I really never look at myself that closely.

With an approximate likeness of me, I next tried getting Jemma to move around and explore the world. It took an age for me to figure out how to get her to sit on a bench. She's still on Help Island right now. I've managed to get her to tour the model house on display, and sit on one of the sofas. (See the snapshot above.) I've changed her clothes into something more casual than the cute pink dress she started with. Some jeans and a sporty sort of T-shirt. I think it was technically a boy's outfit. But it was all I could find. And when I put it on her, it comformed to her shape and size. So it looks okay.

I still haven't figured out the whole "shopping for goods and using money and whatnot" in world. Supposedly there are a lot of free items around for those with no money. I haven't yet been able to navigate to any stores or other locations. Apparently I can fly, or teleport but I have no idea where I am or where I should be going. That means baby steps for now.

Anyway, I think my exploration of this world will be helpful in some ways. I can maybe try to figure stuff out. See if I can interact with people. Find out how they see me. Find out how I want to be seen. I don't expect to make any great strides in my therapy through it, but it may turn out to be a supplemental exercise.

I had a session with my therapist yesterday and she seemed a bit frustrated by the fact that I am still doing a lot of negative thinking. I should know better by now surely. I was practicing restructuring my thoughts. But those assumptions (mind reading) and exaggerations (magnifications) just keep jumping out, before I have the chance to stop them.

Maybe playing some of it out in Second Life will help. I can be a fly on the wall, get a different perspective from outside of myself/Jemma. And maybe I can find a bit of truth.

New Year's Eve

So the year ended as it began, in a crowd of people in the middle of Dan Bunin's family room. All day I prepared. I got a new coat and scarf in case I ended up standing out in the backyard in the cold. I got a new clutch so I could have my technology at my side. I got dressed in my carefully chosen outfit, and arrived, fashionably late. And promptly fell down the steps into the living room.

I spotted Kate first. Then Ralph. I gladly greeted them. And we chatted. Ralph introduced his friend Rob who sometimes helps out at his store. We took some pictures. And then I noticed him. Keir was now in the living room, showing someone his portfolio. Now on his new iPhone! He'd grown his hair long again. And he looked good. Healthy. It was a relief seeing he was okay. But I'd have to try not to pay him too much attention. Indeed I wasn't there for him.

I greeted Janice, and Joe and Dan and Mike and a few of the others. I stayed close to Ralph as usual. But eventually I greeted Keir. "Hey, how are you?" "Good, you?" "Good." "I thought I might see you here," he said. Momentarily I wondered. Was he glad?

So just like last year, I milled around, and felt awkward, and talked to a few new people and some familiar ones. I did bits of catching up. I work at the Test Site now, blah, blah, blah. Some good music played and some not so good. I danced a bit. Especially when a block of songs off the Glee album were played. We sang along, and danced and there was much drinking. And Janice had Barb with her. A bit of her ashes enclosed in a silver charm hanging from her neck.

Late into the night, Keir requested a special song. And he and Janice danced. They were both drunk, I think, and maybe for those few minutes they were back in that place; Keir held her tightly, as they swayed and teetered around the floor. I winced and stood against the wall. But I knew it was right, the two of them. And even though it went wrong, it never went away.

I stayed very nearly to the end. Because I didn't know what else to do. Or because I couldn't leave until I was sure it would hold me over until next time. In case another year goes by. I got Keir's new phone number. And hugged each of those who were left. In the living room, Janice was crying. Another time I'd stumbled into her at a bad moment. It was time to go. And I gingerly made my way back down the street to my car.

And it didn't matter what I wore. Not to anyone but me. Which, I guess, is the point anyway.

Don't Make Me Over

I had a pretty good day yesterday for my birthday. I got some free stuff (carwash, gift at Sephora, drink at Starbucks) and my lovely family were generous as always. Dad took us to dinner at a nice place, and earlier, I got to hang out with my brother George at his place. He gave me the DVD of Glee and we watched a couple of episodes. Then after dinner, me, Mom and Dad watched some. The whole family is into it and that doesn't happen very often. It made me happy.

Anyway, as this year ends, my 38th, it's hard not to examine your life and see if there is anything you might work on for the next year. This blog has been my project this year, and I can't say it's been a resounding success. I haven't kept up adding entries as much as I wanted to. I feel like my writing is still not back to where it once was. But I'll try to carry on. And not write so much about handbags. I'm way too obsessed with them.

As for changes, I can't keep making the same resolutions year after year without learning that they most likely aren't acheiveable. I am at the point in my life where, this is who I am, and that's probably not going to change much. The year started at the Bunin's New Year's party. I was hoping it might be the beginning of a greater effort and success in my social life. Not so much. I haven't made much headway with Janice and the gang at Paddy's. I've not seen Keir since the beginning of the year, and it still makes me sad, but actually I'd hoped that his absence would help. And those guys would see that my hanging around, it's not all about him. I've wanted to hang out with Janice one on one, but there just hasn't been a good time to ask her. And a year on from losing Barb, she's still got bigger things to be thinking about than befriending a shy quiet girl who used to work with her ex-boyfriend. Cool shoes notwithstanding.

Should I go to the Bunin's party tomorrow night? Technically I wasn't invited, but they are pretty open with their invitation to friends of friends. And Ralph and Kate should be there. I'm thinking of wearing my new dress, and cool shoes, and bringing along my iPod with photos of my trip to New York to share. Will it matter? Will I blend in or stick out? I don't know. But I do know I'm better off not trying to be someone I'm not.

Shopping Girl Maniac

So Christmas has come and gone. And I mostly stuck to my resolution not to buy myself a new bag until next year. After Christmas sales are very nearly next year anyway, right? And the new Cole Haan I ordered from Neiman Marcus on Christmas Eve won't arrive until January. I had to use my gift card before it expired.

That's no rationalization though. I mean, if I had found something I wanted at the right time and the right price I would have bought it, resolution or no. I nearly bought two bags from Luna Boston on Black Friday, if not for a website malfunction. I ended up buying a couple of small accessories, which is how I've got by during this embargo. A Treesje cosmetics bag here, a Rebecca Minkoff pouch there, a Marc by Marc Jacobs cosmetics case. And that tiny crossbody Cole Haan I purchased that day wouldn't have counted...plus I ended up returning it. I don't count the little Kipling crossbody either. I needed something waterproof to take to the Muse concert. Yeah, there's no sense denying it. I've not been very good at holding out.

At least I am employed, actually have a decent income, and few expenses. (The MINI is paid off!) I'm not getting into debt. If I do use a card I pay it in full the next month. I'm not paying interest. It's just convenience, and the racking up points with the store cards. Last year, somehow I managed to spend $500 on a Mulberry Bayswater the day after Christmas. I felt a bit of remorse considering my state of unemployment. How could I justify such a splurge when I was receiving barely $300 a week in UI? And then I didn't use that bag for nearly a year. It's strange how that happened. Considering I'd purchased a bunch of bags during that time. I was saving the Mulberry I guess. But I finally got it into the mix.

So today I headed to Burberry for the after Christmas sale. I'd missed out on the Ashmore Glossy Grain tote I'd been considering online. And the larger Glossy Grain tote I was eyeing at Bloomingdales still hadn't gone on sale. So I opted for the Pilgrim satchel from the same family. Same lovely detailing and textured leather. A smaller bag than I would normally go for. But the good thing about that is that it will be easier to work into my rotation. It won't stand out as much as a new bag Mom hasn't seen. I was even thinking it might do for the New Year's party. I need a little black bag to go with my new Anna Scholz dress. Pros and cons being weighed: It's not quite a clutch; it might seem odd if I'm holding onto it all night. And yet, I won't really want to put it down somewhere where it can get sat on or spilled on. I've still got that adorable Coach Parker clutch in mind. But it won't arrive from Nordstrom.com in time for the party. And the little Hayden-Harnett Bleeker clutch doesn't quite hold the stuff I want to bring. Blackberry, camera and iPod. That's a definite argument for an all-in-one like the iPhone. But I'll probably go with that one. My other option is the little Treesje pouch I just got. No wrist strap, but small enough to keep with me all night. I have to see if my gadgets will fit in it. Clutches are problematic, because I hardly ever have need of them, but I'm still tempted to buy them.

Anyway, it's the big bags I tend to go overboard on. I buy one after another. I've got my eye on a few more right now, if I can catch them on sale. And I haven't spent the money on other stuff. I very nearly bought a hat as well at Burberry today. I do need a wintery warm hat for my bus commute. But I certainly don't need to spend almost $200 on one. And I wanted to buy two! Fortunately, I resisted.

It's a slightly slippery slope. When I tell myself I shouldn't buy so many bags, I feel okay about buying other stuff like shoes, wallets, clothes. The Anna Scholz dresses, and that coat; that very expensive coat which I just had to have. I love it, I do, but how much am I really going to wear it? And then scarves and other goodies will come along with it. All money I'm spending even if it's not on bags. I'm treating myself well. And why not? I don't have kids. I'm pretty generous with my family for birthdays and Christmas, I think. I got Mom some Chanel No. 5. George got that nice Sony iPod dock clock/radio he wanted for his birthday. And for Dad, the first season of the original Star Trek on Blu-Ray. I think they all liked their gifts. And I asked for so little from them. Just the Mets snuggie which I love. The expensive stuff, I'd never ask them to buy for me. I'd rather spend my own money instead of theirs. They have so many other things to take care of financially around here.

We were talking the other day about the new City Center and how the expensive shops in there don't necessarily make it a haven for the rich. It's too commercial, Dad said. The very wealthy don't want to be shopping alongside the tourist looky-loos who can't afford the goods. Mom agreed, yeah they don't want to shop with the riff raff. But I said, who do you think you're talking about? We are the riff raff! But no, we're middle class, Mom argued. Well, not really, Dad said. Not anymore. Maybe we were back in the 70's and 80's. I guess strictly speaking we are still middle class. I mean we do have a nice house, and the big screen TVs and each of us has our own car. But standards of living dictate that most people have those things. Certainly a canvass of the lower income folks living in dilapidated apartment complexes will find that some of them have that stuff too. It always amazes me when I pass by the older parts of Vegas on the bus and see those small run-down houses with bars on the windows and fairly new cars parked outside.

Priorities definitely seem skewed.

I'm certainly not the only one guilty of it. I like the fact that I can walk into a nice store and can chat knowledgeably with the staff and buy a designer item more often than not. Usually on sale, but still. I know I could easily be outed as the cheap shoes/expensive watch type. My clothes are rarely expensive. It's in vogue to mix high and low end these days, but I'm still very aware of the contrast between my expensive designer bags and inexpensive clothes. I suppose there's a whole other world of "by appointment only" boutiques which even I don't have the guts to step in.

As much as I think about it, and indulge myself, perhaps unwisely, deep down I know what's really important. The other day I cut my finger while shaving in the shower. I went down to the kitchen and pulled the band-aids out of the drawer to bandage it up. Mom was there and immediately tended to me. Then Dad came over and cleaned my finger with a disinfectant wipe and put the band-aid on. I'm 38 years old in a few days, and my parents are still always there for me. Just like when I was a little girl. And that is priceless.

Too Much Information

Thursday nights as I go to sleep my mind is usually spinning with all the things I need and want to get done on the weekend. I'm also trying to process the information I need to accomplish these things. I know I have to go through my mail, and check all the usual sources for coupons and other discounts which are time sensitive. I feel like if I do anything, I have to do it in the most cost and time-efficient way possible.

Then Friday morning comes, and I haven't got as much sleep as I had hoped, and it's a bit hard to drag myself out of bed. Time flies and I've done nothing. The pressure I've already put on myself is weighing on me. So I try. I start to sift through all the information. And there is too much. It's overload.

Part of it is because I have so little time during the week. I have to put off thinking about things that I should be taking care of little by little. And then three days doesn't seem like enough to catch up. Especially when a whole day will go by when I get nothing done. Not because I didn't try, but because things just weren't going my way.

And then I get that lethargic feeling. I don't feel like scouring catalogs and websites. I don't feel like getting caught up on blogs or facebook. And I feel guilty for not wanting to. I know it all will go on without me. If I miss a sale, the world won't end. But I'm plied by the advertisers who are screaming at me daily. Last chance! Final hours! Get your discounts now! And the updates come in, they follow me. On my blackberry and iPod, on computers and in the mail. I know there will be more. There always are. Specials on free shipping? They have that every week. It would be silly to pay for shipping ever if you're smart. You can always get it free if you pay attention. Pay attention to all the information coming at you or you might miss something.

And is it all information I want? No, I'm subjected to stuff I don't want to know, no matter what I do. The gossip shows, the conversation of strangers. Even the news sometimes. And I can't turn it all off. I might miss something important.

But what is important. My family is important. I try to take care of things important to them. They don't ask much of me. Still I struggle. I can barely keep up on my own stuff. I can barely see though the fog of all the data coming at me. Then there's keeping up with friends, which I've been lousy at too. And then how can I rest, knowing of all that had to be left undone. So I do two, sometimes three things at once. Catch up on TV, surf the web, check the mail, play Farmville...yes, the distractions get in there too. And then none of it gets done well. Focus is what you have to give up. I do it at work too. But at home it seems especially fruitless. I feel like I can't write anymore. My mind just won't process everything the way it once did. So all I can do is hammer out a complaint here and a half finished thought there. And for now, that's going to have to be enough.

Neighborhood

This week another LV Metro officer was laid to rest. Officer Trevor Nettleton was killed in an attempted robbery at his home. His wife, two children and mother were all in the house when an assailant entered his garage where he was working. Officer Nettleton was able to wound one of the gunmen and the perpetrators were captured soon after. This death hit us all particularly hard as Trevor was a member of my brother George's squad. George rode with Trevor on patrol many times and learned a lot from him.

Officer Nettleton lived in North Las Vegas, just a few blocks away from my friend Chuck. Chuck was not surprised by the incident. He had witnessed the S.W.A.T. team conduct a raid on his next door neighbor's house last year. They were apparently conducting weapons sales from the home. One of these weapons could have been sold to one of the street gang members involved in Officer Nettleton's murder. You just never know what's going on in your neighborhood. I've been to Chuck's house a few times and his seemed like your average suburban street.

As we just had Thanksgiving, I know that I'm thankful that all my family members are safe. And I'm thankful for the men and women of the police department who are looking out for us everyday. I pray for their safety also. Especially my brother, but also those he works with, and those he doesn't. And even that Henderson PD officer that gave me a speeding ticket on Tuesday. It's such a hard job they do. And they all deserve our respect.

Alma Matters

Warning: Cliches to come, fast and in great numbers...

So the High School Reunion has come and gone. We made it through, Hina, Melissa, Andra, Sue and I. We're not so sure about Gerry. We worry about Gerry.

But overall it was good; it was okay. To see people you knew when you were in 1st or 2nd grade. To see how they have changed and that they haven't changed. And to see if they think you've changed and if so for better or worse? Yeah, all that stuff.

Who was too good (read too busy and successful) to come back to old BHS? Who did we hope to see? Who did we not want to see? In the end it was the core, those close friends you had, the ones you were delighted to be back in touch with via Facebook, that you stayed with most of the time anyway. And the rest, were a curiosity. Life did go on for them after you knew them, and it turned out pretty decent. Not great, not fantastic, but good, just like with you. The Ups and Downs. Check. Weight gain, check. Ill health, check. Those who still irritatingly look fantastic, check again. And there I was not sure where I fell. Somewhere in between I suspect.

It took a lot of energy. There were some awkward moments: one person's response to the fact that I have no family of my own: "Oh, that's okay." Yeah. So, in another 20 years, where will we all be? Who knows? But it'll go by just like *that*.