Have you seen my friend?

I'm looking for my friend Asha. She vanished from Second Life several months ago, as we are sometimes prone to do -- myself included -- and no one has seen her since. I miss her.

(Shouts, "ASHA, WHERE ARE YOU???????")

I had a horrible, morbid thought today that she could be dead and none of her Second Life friends would ever know.

Then I felt ashamed of myself for never asking her what her real name was, how her real life was going and what, really, she was all about.

Like a lot of people, I fooled myself into thinking that this isn't all an elaborate game by saying "Oh, we may all be avatars, but the friendships are completely real, and that's really what it's all about here: friendship and fun."

If it's really all about the relationships we form here, why don't I know your real names or what you really look like or if you're hurting in real life and really, truly need a REAL friend? Why do I know every minute detail about the decor in your prefab home or the items in your inventory or the skin you're wearing, but almost absolutely nothing about the real person behind your monitor?

You could say, "Hey, you never asked," but I think we can all agree that it seems really awkward to bring up our real lives in Second Life. It's almost like there's an unspoken rule that we don't talk about them, lest we break the magical spell that we've cast to create these new and improved versions of ourselves.

OH LORDY, don't ask about real life, because then some of you will be forced to admit that while you're sexing it up with a hot avatar in this virtual world, you've got a husband, a wife or a lover who quite possibly needs your attention in the real one. You know, the real world, the one that requires actual work?

If you caught a tone of disgust in that paragraph, it's directed at myself. Sometimes I spend hours in Second Life skipping around in a pretty face and lovely clothes, with perfectly coordinated dance moves and a sexy walk, goofing around with my "friends" -- the people whose names I don't really know. Hell, I go in world to cheat on my whole life.

I hit the "Log In" button and for a few -- sometimes way more than a few -- blissful hours I can forget that in actuality I look a little bit like Mokey Fraggle from "Fraggle Rock" (you younguns can Google it), that I'm getting those annoying tiny wrinkles around my eyes, that my Super Sexy Push-Up Bra really isn't pushing anything up at all, that my ass isn't slowly spreading like a pancake underneath me with every hour I spend at this keyboard, that I am an absolute white-girl klutz on the dance floor (you remember, the ones that don't have dance balls hanging over them), that at the moment I have no job or health insurance, that I used to be a much sought-after writer until the New York Times and every other damn newspaper in this country laid off half their reporters, that the words "wash up" pretty much describe my career right now, that my apartment isn't decked out in cute furniture from Mudshake but is, in fact, a complete disaster, that the man I'm dating in real life isn't a timid little pushover who's also a total bore, that I am terrified that I accidently got a wee bit knocked-up a few weeks ago because my period is late and I am suddenly oh-so-sick in the mornings and hey hey hey this baby definitely will not be a prim one, etc., etc., etc.

A click of the "Log In" button and all of that stuff goes away. At least for a while. Yep, Second Life has become my drug -- a dose of sweet oblivion until I finally log off and am left with the HANGOVER that currently is my actual existence. 

Oh, WHOOPS, I'm sorry. Was that too much information?

But I thought this wasn't a game. I thought you were my friend. You're on my Friends list, aren't you?

If this isn't a game, then why are we all using fake names? Why do I only know three people who have their real photos in the "1st Life" tab on their profiles? I think a whopping two people in Second Life have made the transition to real friendships, but everyone else on my list is a beautiful mystery to me.

I just gave you all the current sordid details of my real life. If you want to see what I look like, scroll down a couple of posts for a photo. My name is Erinn, named after Ireland where most of my family is from -- hence, my really original screen name Emerald. My mother didn't mean to put two Ns on the end of my name -- she said she was too out of it after the delivery to coherently fill out a birth certificate.

You know what? I wish I knew your real names too. And all the funny stories that make you who you are. And what your hopes and dreams are for your real life, not just your inventory or your next build. And how to reach you if you ever "vanish," just so I can at least know you're not dead. And any burdens you happen to be carrying, because I'm happy to share them with you.

Because we're not just a bunch of gamers taking temporary shelter in these perfect fantasies we've created with a few clicks of a mouse and our programming skills, right? As we always say, we're really all about the relationships here, right? Manifesting our truest, purest selves in virtual form? Keepin' it real and all that? 

"It's not a game," we cry in outrage, yet when someone permanently poofs from the grid, many of us are left scratching our heads in confusion.

If anyone knows Asha Brim's real name or where she is now, please let me know. I really miss her.



(I wish someone would've told me a long time ago that boys' hair looks sassy on girls.)

P.S. To all you Plurkers, I killed my Plurk page. It was sucking up my time and attention and, cough, I really need to stay grounded in reality at the moment.

Love and joy to you and yours,

Erinn