
I've been kicking around in SL for about a year now, mostly as a tourist and voyeur. Given the environment's inherent social possibilities, I've been a little surprised at my lack of sociability on many occasions: watching other groups interact from afar, breezing past people without a hello, even TPing away when it looked like someone was about to approach me.
That's not to say I've been totally disconnected. I've struck up conversations within certain sims that have led to acquaintanceships that had some sticking power, usually around some shared topical interest. I've also helped many a newbie by answering questions and sharing landmarks & inventory. But until relatively recently, I could take or leave most of the people I've "friended" in SL.
I'm drawn to the sims featuring nature or environmentalist themes, and Commonwealth Island is probably the core location in that regard. A few months back I was there and overheard something about a new project called Etopia that would demonstrate sustainable

living in a cohousing environment. Now of course it's not possible to actually use eco-friendly energy in SL (unless the servers and clients are running off solar power), but I liked the concept of at least acting out a smaller ecological footprint. The social arena was less of a draw, but what I noticed as I kept coming back to Etopia was the friendliness of the people I would run into while wandering around its beautifully crafted streets, alleys, courtyards, and trails. There was a sense of belonging and welcoming that I associate with real-life communities and co-operatives. Something appears to be working.
But I wasn't prepared for what would follow when I stumbled across a group of women who call themselves The Pirates (among many other labels). Right away they invited me on a balloon tour of the island, and after we'd chatted a while they started lobbying me to rent an apartment in the commons area, where four of them shared two apartments with prominent pirate flags displayed on their porches. I'd been wanting an electronic pied-a-terre for some time anyway, so it was easy to give in and rent space.

Now, this is the SL space in which I wake up as Salmakis, go about my day, and go to sleep (which the pirates call poofing or pumpkining). Every time I log on I am almost immediately contacted by at least one of the pirates: "How's it going?" or "Yay! Sal's here!" along with a friendly invitation to join them in whatever expedition is currently underway: invading the drum circle via balloon, shopping for clothes and furniture, sea battles in pocket pirate warships, line dancing in a Renaissance pub, or just sitting around talking about life: SL, RL, and whatever lies beneath both illusions. I've really connected with a couple of them, but here's an interesting added layer of revelation: I don't really have a strong desire to form a RL friendship with any of them, nor am I more than midly (for the most part) curious about what they "really" look or act like outside SL. For that matter, no one in the group makes more than passing, anonymous reference to RL and likes it that way. RL photos in the Profile are, for example, a bit of a no-no.
This is, I think, more than a bunch of overgrown kids playing pretend (though there's a lot of that to enjoy!) but part of what sets SL social interaction apart from earlier friendships I've experienced in mediated environments from CB radio to UseNet to AIM. Though the invented persona, the "handle," the avatar is nothing revolutionary, SL is qualitiatively different as an immersively real visual space, which contains those personae embodied as quite realistic avatars that one almost reflexively anthropomorphizes. It's a real enough place, and the people there are real enough, and when I log in, I am not only playing at being Salmakis, but she's (I'm) actually in there, behaving and perceiving and responding to the environment and the other souls represented there.
In that sense there's very little about that reality that fits the word "virtual." I will always have a special place in my heart for good old MeatSpace, but it's fun to share the dreamworld too.