I.D., Please ...

Whoo-freakin'-hoo. Finally, an entire evening with a viable internet connection on the "new computer," which for the moment is fondly named "Hog."

Of course, I spent a lot of time "in-world" last night, picking up tons of free stuff and meeting people. I still don't have hair that perfectly suits me, but I do have a recommendation for a hair shop from someone whose hair I admired. I made a friend who gave me some really awesome skin and a pair of black leather bootie-shorts from her inventory. I've revised my clothes again; I'm becoming less of a watchful wall-flower and more of ... well, oddly, more myself.

This brings up an interesting point. Sometimes I feel a separation in my head between my avatar and myself; she's "her" and I'm "me." But sometimes there's no separation at all. In the middle of "Clothing Olympics" last night (which is something I seem compelled to do both in SL and RL) as I was changing tops, I had a look at my avatar half-naked in the new custom skin and thought "Wow, my boobs look fantastic." Not her, not those, but my.

This, I must say, is NOT a thought I've had about myself recently in RL, but that's not the point. Or, rather, that's a different point, and kind of an unintended one at that, and a pun to boot. But I digress.

The point I'm trying to make without cracking myself up is that I am beginning to identify with her. The more detailed she becomes, the more customized she becomes, the more I feel she is me. Oddly, I can sense that I'll be seeing parts of myself emerging through her that I thought were long-dead or discarded, things I would be if I had her freedom, her physical attributes, her mobility. She may even choose a different artistic path than me; she may become a rock star or a dancer, choose to be in front of the camera rather than behind it as I might have done if things, if I, had been just a little bit different.

I am thinking Second Life should perhaps change its name to Second Chance.