Written 29 January, 2006
When my five-minute after-the-party cleanup was done, my Mystitool told me Sweetie had arrived. She was 75 meters away, on the Pele South land.
And so was her suitor.
I can’t tell you how this made me feel.
It was after one pm Linden time. I had been in-world since 6 am, playing hostess, charming visitors and being sergeant-at-arms to the few who had misbehaved. With the exception of two three-minute bathroom breaks, I had been at the keyboard in a highly stressful situation for more than seven hours, running my open house without assistance. And now, Sweetie, who had barely said hello, was off with the one person in Second Life who makes me nervous.
Martin, her suitor.
Now, I am not by nature a jealous person in real life, and Chey is a reasonably secure avatar, but Martin’s intentions and behavior in regard to Sweetie trouble me for a lot of reasons—and I will soon tell you why.
As keyed up as I was, the next few hours were terrible. I tried to finished a bridge I had been making to cross the lava, but chat spam from the trivia machine I had set out on South Beach and Babbler translations obscured my view. I didn’t want to mute the trivia machine, for most of the time I like to play, and I didn’t want to take it up because a late-staying guest was enjoying himself with it, so I just attempted to fix the bridge. Twice I thought I had it, and twice when I took it, there was a part left behind. Damn, damn, damn.
Finally, I gave up.
Eventually, I was alone with Sweetie.
She mentioned that she was unable to rez objects on Pele, so I walked across the property line and took off the ban. When I got back, she was gone.
I could have, should have sent her an IM telling her I would be off-world for a while, but I was so very very weary and so annoyed that I hit the big red X and took myself off world for a nap.