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Moriash Moreau: My Second Life
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
 
The Case for Immersion #2
(For an explanation, see this entry.)

This one is pretty straightforward. Last Monday night, I was scheduled to attend a pitch meeting for a project that Chrestomanci, Laura, and myself have been working on for the past couple of weeks. I won't go into too many details at this point, but basically we were tasked with rewriting a script for the Second Life Theatre Guild. (A project which has been the source of a considerable amount of heartache and consternation over the past couple of weeks. I'm sure I'll whine about it here it at some point.) That night, we were to present the script and deal with the reactions.

In order to make a good impression, I decided to dress up a bit. I donned my expensive (for me, anyway) black suit and tie, and hunted down the black leather dress shoes buried deep in the bowels of my inventory. As I did so, Chres donned a fetching powder blue qipao, and dithered over the thigh-revealing cut-up-to-here slits in the sides. (Laura opted for her trademark black with fedora and scarf. The classics never change, I guess.) Finally, appearances secured, we moved into the Garden of Mo to kill a couple of minutes before heading out.

This is where the lines blurred. For a few moments, as I walked across the unkempt weeds and fretted about the upcoming firing line, I found myself seriously worrying about getting dirt on my suit. My virtual suit, in my virtual Garden.

Okay. Not a riveting story, I'll grant. But it is another data point. More to come.
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