M is for Myg

Live your god damned dream

Archive for the 'Real Life' Category

Well, hey there!

I thought some of you who once subscribed to this blog might possibly be interested in reading something I wrote. It’s a Twilight fanfic. Don’t laugh! Okay, well, you can laugh.

But seriously.

Imagine if Twilight had been written for grown ups, by me? You might like it then, right? Maybe? Perhaps?

I think you should find out for yourself!

You can check this out as a blog post over at Twitarded. Or you can visit the story as it unfolds at its own subdomain here.

And if you are a big fan of Twilight and the rest of the series, and are over the age of 18? You may really like it quite a bit. And if you are over the age of 25? You might like it even more. And if you’re older than that but are Twilight obsessed? This fic’s for you.

And if you do stop by to read at those other places? Please, please say hello and let me know you came from SL.

hearts and puffy things to you,



Here and not here.

I know, I know. You may think Mygdala March is no more, given my lack of logins since the kids were born in January. And I can understand that. But I want to assure you, Myg is still very much alive. It’s just that I’ve morphed my online personality to fit a bit more with my first life, or real life, or whatever you want to call it, and I may choose, “Holy shit I have twin boys and I’m getting no sleep but life is awesome” life.

I read this short but thought provoking piece, “Good as Dead”  by Tateru Nino about a month ago about what happens when someone disappears from their virtual world, and I felt so bad I almost posted. Almost. The reason I didn’t was really a matter of how much time and energy I’ve got these days, which is next to none, and what little of it there is, is spent with them: 

Five months

Can you blame me?

Then most of my spare time, of which there is, actually, none, I am asleep. Because folks, it’s been over 5 months now and the babies still aren’t getting through the night without getting up at least once. Between two kids, that makes for one spotty night of slumber.  Which, ironically, reminds me of the first several months of Mygdala March’s entrance into Second Life.

Funny the parallels there. Back in November 2006 I gave birth to my online self, Myg. The nurturing of that self took a tremendous amount of time and energy, and was also a labor of love. It was a time of play and exploration and creation and possibility, which is what drove me to spend hours upon hours in world, and no, I don’t regret a minute of it. I love Second Life. I love Topgol and the places we’ve created there. I love and miss you, my digital companions. I dare say I will be back, but I can’t say when. When I learn to better manage my time, I suppose. When the kids sleep through the night and take regular naps, perhaps.

Some of you have an interest in my life outside of Second Life, and I’ve been able to keep in touch. If you are at all interested in the whole Myg, you’re invited to follow me at Wisermom.org, where I blog mostly about the “holy shit” experience of being a new mom. You can also connect with me on Plurk or on Twitter, which I’ve re-embraced along with Oprah. No, I haven’t literally embraced Oprah, nor her talk show.

Some of you aren’t interested in my life outside of Second Life, and hey, that’s alright too. I totally understand that. This started out as a Second Life blog, and I do intend to keep it that way. But unlike real life, or first life, or whatever you like to call it, my Second Life can wait a little while.

But those adorable little monkeys in diapers and onesies in that photo up there? They don’t do “wait.”

I can’t imagine where they got that quality from, either.

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Cruel facts of pregnancy

They call it “pelvic rest” but it means orgasms are right out too.

I can’t have any – and I mean any type or variety of sexual activity – because it can start contractions and my risk for preterm labor is too high right now. Did you know nipple stimulation can start contractions? I didn’t. Pity me, pity my husband. Because after the kids get here, well, anyway I don’t want to think about that right now.

appropriateness of belly tattoo

I didn’t take this photo to talk to you all about my pathetic lack of sex, actually. I took it because I noticed that this tattoo (DaVinci) from Truth Hawks actually has a fetus on the belly. Ha!  But looking at this picture made me think of sex. Well, looking at the wall makes me think of sex right now.

Pregnancy, nature’s miracle, is a cruel mistress of irony, indeed.

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Is it February yet?


I can promise you, if I make it to February with these two turkeys in the oven we’ll all be impressed. The last couple of weeks have been a little more exciting than you’d like a twin pregnancy to be, what with a couple of hospital stays due to some preterm labor symptoms. I’m not and wasn’t, by the way, in labor. Thank god. But I was in the hospital, and I am on strict bedrest now until, well, until the boys are here. If all goes well, they’re not going to get here for another 10 weeks. If it goes decently, it’ll be another 7. A lifetime and an unconscious blink, all at once.

But guess what? Second Life turns out to be the PERFECT thing to do when you have hours upon hours of time where you can’t do anything but sit your ass in one place!

So over the past few days I have renewed my obsession with building things. I mean all day long staring at the laggy assed screen obsession. Like, trying to keep myself out of SL right now long enough to write this post obsession. Mostly I’ve been making furniture for our loft in Topgol, hopefully that will be tweaked for the store I wanted to open way back in the way back. This has forced me to try to relearn how to make poses for the furniture (hellloo Qavimator and thanks Ana Lutetia for saving my poor head from being cracked open on the corner of my headboard from repeated banging. Not the good kind, either.)

The pose Alex and I are in up there is not of my making – I am nowhere close to that talented. It’s one of the Adore poses by Torrid Midnight and you can grab it at Torridwear. Of course, it’s a much sexier pose if the two avatars are, say, not pregnant and not grimacing.

And by the way, speaking of Alex, you should all go read his piece on identity. It’s rather good and makes you think. That is to say, it’s good if you like to think.

Hey! I might start posting regularly here again!

Seriously, Second Life might be saving my brain from serious stir craziness. And that just rocks.

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Happy Stuffed Fowl Day


Here in the state’s it’s Thanksgiving, and we’ll all celebrate by buying the largest damned turkey we can carry without back support and serving it up for our friends and folks. Then we’ll fall asleep in front of the television, feeling slightly ill from way too much food and drink. When we wake up, we’ll do it again for either dinner or a late night snack, and fall asleep plumped up and bloated. It’s the American way.

There are a number of things about this pic that are fiction. First of all, I am on strict bedrest now after a short stint in the hospital (I’m fine, the babies are fine too), so I won’t be serving Alex any damned bird. Second of all, even if I wasn’t, I can’t cook a turkey anymore than it could cook me. Alex is the birdman. I do the salads, soups and sauces. And lastly, I do not own a Thanksgiving dress, but rest assured if I did, it would be orange and I would probably layer it over something totally inappropriately matched, such as the grey and black striped shirt I have on here.

On that note, I hope you all have a totally wonderful day with loved ones, and may you sleep soundly through every commercial!

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Wiggle room

Have you heard?


Well, the rumors are true. I, Mygdala March, am going to be somebody’s mother.

Don’t laugh!

It’s perfectly true, and I’m talking about REAL LIFE knocked up, not just a wacky avatar role play thing with gruesome prim babies. Nothing against wacky avatar role play stuff, seriously.  It would be really great if I could relegate my tremendous back pain to the realm of the digital, but sadly all the discomfort that goes along with the condition is mine in the physical world as well.

Actually to be accurate, I’m going to be two somebodies’ moms. Wow – what’s the correct grammatical structure of a sentence like that? In any case, that means I’m having twins. Twin boys.

They should be here in February, but because they are twins it’s hard to predict exactly when. Depends on how much space they have in there I think. (And by the way, if you’re interested in following the gritty real world adventures of my pregnancy, you are welcome to do so at http://wisermom.org.)

I had to write something about my new shape – the prygnant Myg, because in the past I’ve been rather vocal about NOT having a SL shape that was closer to a RL shape. I summed it up this way:

You are you every day. Don’t you want a chance to be someone, well, different? In some way?

Well guess what was happening? I would log in and see myself in this shape that was so far off from the real one I have been grappling with, it didn’t feel like me anymore. I had lost my attachment to it, if that makes sense.  Since I’ve been pregnant I don’t spend much time in SL anymore. I think reality these days has been fairly engrossing, and I’ve not had much left over for SL. So when I do go in, it’s usually just to see people I want to see. It suddenly became important to me to share what was going on in my real world with my friends in the virtual world. And it became necessary for me to see some representation of that reality on the screen in front of me.

So, there you have it. And now I get it. SL can and should be a lot of things to a lot of people, and what it is can change for the same person over time, as it has for me. Maybe I’ll remember that in the future and keep my mouth shut before making sweeping generalizations about what SL should be.

But I doubt it! After all, I’m still Myg. I’m just, you know, pregnant!

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Coolest president ever.

I can’t remember ever feeling quite this good about the world. Thanks America!

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My brain is different.  My body is different.  The light is brighter.  The night is darker.  Color is a distant fire from an indifferent circus. The future is a gaping nowhere and the past is a rat gnawing its way through a blanket of resolution woven from words and tears and many years.

I find I am still here. Even when I feel like I’m not.

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