The Letter

I haven't really written much of late, but I thought I'd post a rambling letter that I sent to our lovely friend Jake Slichter a few weeks ago. I won't post his response which was characteristically charming and kind. And, despite what follows, he still claims it's nice to hear from me...

Hey Jake,

Silly question, but do you happen to know Jennifer Egan? (Growing up on Long Island I had this fantasy that all writers in Brooklyn knew each other.) I just finished reading "A Visit from the Goon Squad," and saw she mentioned Semisonic and thanked you for your book. And I thought, hey, I thanked Jake in my book too (well, my Master's Thesis). I finished the book on the bus home from work yesterday, a bus that brings me from Nevada Test Site back into Las Vegas where I live now. I work for a government contractor as a technical writer out there. Commuting 4 hours a day, and working 10. I'm just glad to have a decent job. Still, it's a long way from teaching English Composition at BYU. Back then, idealist that I was, teaching your road diaries to my students as personal narrative examples, especially the one about Vegas, it seemed highly unlikely that I'd end up here.

The memories came rushing back of that time, now 10 years ago, the Semisonic bbs, and meeting the gang at the All about Chemistry gigs. And September 11th. That morning I was getting ready to go teach my class, and then everything changed. As I was thinking about this, my bus pulled into the Department of Energy complex and the Security officer was coming down the aisle, checking our badges. He bent down because he dropped one of his ammo magazines, which made me laugh for some reason.

I got in my car and drove home on I-15, passing the Las Vegas Strip where a building-sized banner advertised "The Beatles Love by Cirque du Soleil, Now in it's 5th year!" And it struck me, God how long have I been here?! How did all this time go by? Which of course is what Goon Squad is about. I thought about how no one even writes emails anymore; those are the old days now! Since everything happens in 140 character bursts and Facebook updates. Well, you know, we're all still in touch, but not reaaaally...

It makes books an even greater miracle, just the fact that anyone still has that kind of attention span. I can't manage to write anything more complex than a sporadic blog entry. Everyone has a blog. Everyone's a writer. So to make something stand out from all the noise, that's a lot of pressure. And it's doing my head in. Being a tech writer makes me a WINO (writer in name only). I keep telling myelf that it's because I don't travel much these days, not much adventure to draw from. But that's not it. I wish it was.

So now bin Laden is finally gone. I was watching the Mets v. Phillies game when the announcers broke in with the news, and it spread through the crowd, along with the chanting of USA...USA. The Mets and Phils went into extra innings, and I switched back and forth from ESPN to the President's speech. I pulled for my Mets to win it. Strike a blow for New York, I thought, then just as quickly I remembered the plane that went down in Shanksville. And the fans kept chanting...and I thought wow, something Mets fans and Phillies fans can actually agree on.

Monday, I got back to my office, filled with government workers, all abuzz with the big news, but they're making me sad, my colleagues, with their snide comments about the Pakistanis and Muslims in general; they still don't get it. One particularly ignorant woman actually said the Navy Seals should be let loose on the Mexicans trying to cross the border. She says stuff like that all the time.

I looked at the photo on my desk, me at a Mets game with my best friend's kids, a Pakistani-American family, the kindest most generous people I know. Hina, who is my best friend from high school in New York, she told me that on September 11th, she couldn't get to the kids' school to pick them up because of the chaos, and that she was frantic because there was already speculation about who was behind the attacks. I don't remember the anti-Muslim sentiment erupting so immediately. But the kids go to a Muslim school across the bridge in N.J. and it wasn't the first time they'd met with the ignorance. And it certainly won't be the last.

Back on the bus, a few tears rolling down my cheek, I wondered, would things ever change? Would people ever learn? And meanwhile, would I ever make something of myself? Is there still time? Time really is a Goon.

Still, every once in a while, I wake up excited, because I've dreamt that I finally caught a glimpse of that mysterious Maskipper, though he's always gone just before I can reach him. And by the time I'm fully awake, he's slipped completely away.

So Jake, why am I sending this random and disjointed missive your way? I guess because of all the connections that are coming up lately. And because I knew you'd get it. And because you have helped to bring about some of those great magic times. And because you're still one of the coolest guys I know. I hope this finds you well.

Cheers,

Jennifer :)

Bicycle Race

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike...I want to ride my bicycle I want to ride it where I like....and not fall over.

Girls & Boys

I'm beginning to think that Jemma may need her own blog. Not only has she accepted a marriage proposal from Mo, with the prospect of a full blown Second Life wedding, she has somehow also obtained a girlfriend, Megan. This is all with Mo's blessing, and participation! He actually found Megan, a noob on her first day of SL, wandering on a beach, perhaps on Orientation Island; he didn't say.

This whole thing makes me think Skip may have been the wisest of all, keeping his identity hidden all these years. Well we always knew he was wise, and I have requested his Maskipperly advice more than once. But it goes back to the age old question (well, as age old as the interwebs), "Who are you talking to online? Is it a real person, or someone playing a role, pretending to be someone else?" Or maybe it's that person feeling free to finally be themselves, without the limitations of snap judgments, or a physical body.

Tom Boellersdorf's ethnography of SL discussed the population of residents who have physical handicaps in real life, and yet are free to walk and run and fly like any other SL resident. Does that make their SL identity false, or deceptive? Not at all. Some of these residents choose to have their avatars use wheelchairs or other aids, even though they don't have to. Does this make them more authentic? Perhaps they just remain as they are already comfortable with themselves. Similarly, I've created Jemma in my own image, as a short, full-figured woman. Does that mean it's me doing everything she does, or is she just my agent, able to safely try things out that I would never really do? Whether it be bungee jumping, or a new haircolor, or something more significant.

What makes me (and/or Jemma) uncomfortable then is when Mo and Megan confess about their real lives. "In real life I want this," or "In real life I feel that." They both sound really similar when they speak like this. In fact at first I thought perhaps Mo created Megan as an alt. It just seemed too convenient that a willing noob, still in noob's clothing, could be found so readily. And she also talks like maybe English is not her first language, just like Mo. Now I'm pretty sure Megan is not an alt. Mo would have to be quite a multitasker.

Speaking of Alts, Marshall attended his first SciFri. On his own due to continued sporadic outages of the SL grid on my iMac, he was immediately welcomed by a cute girl there.




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Whitechocolatespaceegg

Yesterday I woke up dizzy. Just a little. So that getting up from standing or sitting made my head swim a bit, like my equilibrium was off. And I had a headache. After planning what I was going to do this weekend, I ended up staying home. I watched the Mets, then I lay back down in the afternoon to take a nap. Then I remembered that new Doctor Who was coming on, so I made myself get up. I mentioned the dizziness to Dad, who in turn mentioned it to Mom, who got so worried she came up to my room with a blood pressure cuff. She took my blood pressure which was elevated, and then yelled at me about how I'm not taking proper care of myself. Yeah, she's right. But it's not easy. I finally got around to making a dentist appointment for this week. One thing at a time. But I should go see Doctor Ryan. It's been too long.

Mom went on about how I could have a heart attack with blood pressure this high and I wondered what would happen if I did die in my sleep or something. I wouldn't have time to fix things. And then they'd clean out my room, and find all the new shoes I've bought lately, clothes with tags still on, and the stash of Cadbury's Mini Eggs I have in my closet. Eventually they'd get into my storage unit, and see the piles of shopping bags, and plastic tubs full of handbags, way more than they actually know I have. And they'd find out, sooner or later, that I have MINIfir stashed down at Annette's house. They might look through my stuff on my computers. Find evidence of...what, I don't know. Just stuff that's none of their business. People always find out stuff they really didn't need to know about their loved ones when they are gone. I usually feel like I've nothing to hide. But we all have something. I haven't even thought about the stuff I keep in my desk at work. And since they don't really know any of my friends, would they ever be able to let people know? And would anyone notice that I wasn't around any more; and would they only vaguely wonder why and then forget about me?

Well, enough of that. I guess I'm just thinking about these things because of poor Lis Sladen (Dear Sarah Jane!).

It's Easter. And I feel fine today. I'm just tired. And a new work week begins, and I'll be more tired. And then the weekend will come and I'll make plans, and probably just drop them and stay home. But I do still have things to look forward to. New episodes of Doctor Who and In Plain Sight. The Glee concert next month. AMVIV. Maybe a trip to New York this summer to visit Hina. So I'll take a deep breath, and do what I have to do, and hopefully everything will be fine.

Mohammed My Friend

So Jemma is feeling a bit pressured by her friend Mo. Every time she logs on, he is there demanding her time. It's not just that. He is constantly telling her how much he loves her and thinks about her. Jemma has to be blunt. She doesn't feel the same. How could she? She barely knows the guy. After being offline for a few days this week due to my dead Time Capsule, Mo tells Jemma he was worried about her, and wants to know if she was thinking about him in RL. I have to admit I was thinking about him. I was thinking maybe I should take an even longer break from SL to let him cool off. But then I got a better idea. I created an alt. His name is Marshall, and while he is not as yet fully formed, he's going to have something to say if Mo doesn't stop putting so much pressure on Jemma. Getting Marshall and Jemma online at the same time requires two computers, and since it seems SL is always crashing at least one of my computers, that hasn't happened yet. But it will, hopefully soon.

I noticed when creating Marshall that SL has changed the way you choose user names. You don't pick a first name and then choose from a list of available last names. I guess it got too hard to keep coming up with unique surnames for the millions of residents. So Marshall's name is MarshallMiller (one word). I spent a bunch of time last night trying to dress and style him to somewhat resemble his namesake. But it was trickier than I thought. He still looks pretty generic. I think Jemma will have to buy him some clothes and maybe some different prim hair, since he's not going to have his own money.

Other than that, not much has happened in SL this week. I had to work on Friday, so we missed SciFri, and then by the time I got the new Time Capsule up and running, I was too tired to spend much time there. Jemma kept Mo at arm's length, which he wasn't happy about. And she did chat again with Madame T., her neighbor. I'm trying to see what use the Pocket Metaverse app is on my phone. So far I can log on and respond to messages, but not much else. May come in handy though when I get bored at work.

You're the One for Me, Fatty

Apparently, Jemma has a boyfriend in SL now. Which leads me to believe one thing: Egyptian guys dig fat chicks. Okay, I kid. But it's a funny story, and not really one that has to do with the picture of poor fat Miracle above. But I may get to her later. So I went roaming around last night in this place that described itself as Main Street New York, and seemed more a comglomerate of many downtowns from cities all over. I saw a few people wandering around. Then in one store (at least I think it was a store), I met this guy who said he was from Egypt, but lived in Saudi Arabia. At least this one spoke English. His name was Mohammed, but he goes by Moha. He asked to be my friend and I told him I was going to walk around some more and he could come if he wanted. He followed me for a bit, and kept asking if I wanted to go somplace called Epica. We teleported there and it appeared to be a beach area for surfing and other water sports. I spotted a canoe. I decided I'd come back to try that later. Moha did not seem to want to do any water sports. He just wanted to sit on the beach with me. There were some animation rez balls that allowed for a couple to cuddle and kiss. I guess he had come here before to do this, I don't know. The thing that cracked me up was that he kept saying that he felt really close to me, like even seconds after we met. I was like, "Yeah, you are taking this too seriously. We just met." But he was in a hurry, and soon after we arrived in Epica, he wanted me to come back to his house. I was just curious to see what someone else's house looked like, so we teleported there. Once we were there, he said something like, "Now you are the queen of this place." You can feel free to do whatever. He had a nice sofa arrangment with cushions on the floor. But before I couild sit down, he said, "You can see upstairs too." So we went upstairs and found some more scattered furniture, including a big round bed. It was one of those beds I had seen so many of when I was shopping for the bed at my place. It came with all sorts of sex animations you could do. At the time I had wondered why all the beds seemed to come with these. Doesn't anyone in SL use their bed just to sleep? Apparently, not so much. I mean, obviously, if you were just going to sleep, you would quit SL and go offline. But I always like to put Jemma to bed before I log off. Then when I come back, I find her on the bed, like she's just waking up. Anyway, Moha invited me to try it out. It was fairly amusing. But I tried the canoe today, and got such a kick out of it! It reminded me of the old days in spinchat with Skip and Jazzie. Space Canoe ride anyone? :)

Mothers Talk

With all the havoc Mother Nature has caused lately; Earthquakes in Haiti, New Zealand, Japan (plus the Tsunami), things are pretty calm in this little corner of the world. Here, winter's last gasp comes in a grey, windy weekend, just before the first day of spring. Baseball is in the air, though the boys of summer have yet to make their way north from sunny Florida. And I think it's time to remove the cover of snow from the farm.

Soon it will be dress and sandals season. And I learend this weekend that apparently I've been wearing the wrong size bra for years. I am not a 42C as I'd thought. And despite putting on quite a bit of weight lately, I don't need to move up to a 44. The lady in Nordstrom measured me and talked me down. It took a while to get my head round it, the fact that I should be wearing a 40DD! A Double D is for girls who are particularly well endowed, I always thought. I'm not that big. But apparently the discomfort of the band riding up and the sides gapeing out didn't signal the need for a bigger band, but a larger cup. A much larger cup. How could I have not known this? I'm nearly 40. My cluelessness has reached a new level.

In other news, I'm talking to Mom and Dad about it maybe being time to get grandma her own place. The stress she is causing has got to the point that I spent nearly all of my session with my therapist this week talking about it. I stopped by a nearby senior apartments complex. They are having a special on 2 bedroom apartments. She doesn't need a 2 bedroom. But they don't have any 1 bedrooms available. But $619 for a 2 bedroom, that's just a no brainer. Of course Mom is still conflicted. She kept coming up with reasons. "She can't afford it." Well, she can. All she has to do is quit gambling, and pay her rent instead, then she'll have plenty left over for food and anything else she'd need. "But wait, what about furniture?" Oh, well there's the old couch and everything I gave to George when he moved out. He's got it all in storage again, since Heather had already fully furnished their apartment. The tension in the house right now just seems enormous to me; that's my personal stake in it. But grandma will be happier too, having her autonomy back, her own place, her own kitchen again. Well, so far the jury's still out, we'll have to see what happens. All I can do is suggest.

In the meantime, my quest to crack Second Life continues. I haven't had much time to work on it. Yesterday I spent about two hours trying to get my clothes to fit. Finally I gave up and just went off to find some people. I tried the popular places list from the Dummies book. They were pretty deserted. I guess Saturday night PST is not the busy time. Or maybe it's because of daylight savings? I dunno. I'll try again at a different hour.

Oh well. Here's an extended sigh for the end of another weekend.