I founded the SLA (SL Alcoholics) around the same time I started Second Life. The SLA Review has been around for four years. Started out on a website with a domain I had to pay for. Then I switched it over to its current home. I am sad that I lost YEARS of articles by doing so. But it really was for the best. I do have old hand written revisions of articles I did way back in the day. I hope to some day transfer those (plus old files) here for amusement.
When I first started writing about our beloved virtual world I never swore. I think the worst thing I may have said during the first year was “hell”. As the years have gone by I have found myself having a sort of “fuck it” attitude. (5L in the virtual swear jar. Hell doesn’t count.) Where did my general anger towards various things, places, objects, whatever, start exactly? I think it was born out of frustration. Shock factor. “OMG…I can’t believe she said fuck in her article!!” (5L more in the virtual swear jar) My frustration lying in the fact that I have a hard time being “wowed” by anything I’ve seen countless times in the past. Or the terrible mistakes of virtual business by repeating the old over & over. Frustration…..yes. I have other reasons. No one else freely curses in anything written about Second Life that I have ever read. On occasion you will see the word “Shit” (5L more) but nothing horrible. People are scared to use the human language…all of the human language…to express anger, sadness, triumph, heartache. As the years have gone by I live by the rule that a word is a word. It all depends on how you use a word that puts power behind it. I can easily say that “This place stinks with its poor design & horrible management” & it cuts deeply to the person who owns it. It’s all about the art of using words to hurt or create joy. “This place is FUCKING AWESOME!!!” (tack on another 5) “Bad” word. Positive meaning.
I like to think that I am still the same retro with a weird alcoholic funky twist that I have always been since day one.
Still the same gal with rocking a beehive on occasion while drinking down a martini. You may find me as a small bulldog or a faun. An angel or the devil herself. Panda or elf ears. Unique yet with a vocabulary, on occasion, that would make a sailor blush. Sometimes…..cursing works. It works if you need to get a point across. Shock people. Make them think. Make them understand.
Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought I have. Maybe I’ve just become a little fucking (5L added to the pot) braver.
(I owe 25L to my jar. All of which I have donated to the Dr. Who museum. I am a nerd who curses with a martini in her hand. Love who you are baby.)