I've been reading Tom Boellstorff's Coming of Age in Second Life, an anthropologist's look at the most popular of the virtual worlds. I now know what AFK means ("away from keyboard") and a lot of other things, too, about this complex online environment and its cultures and mores.
I've spent a number of hours exploring Second Life, flying my avatar across digital landscapes that materialize as my bandwidth catches up. I've strolled through the arcades, been a bit puzzled by the Halloween party feeling of all the tricked out avatars and people typing to each other. I even used some of my free Linden dollars (the currency there) to buy a necklace for my avatar. I don't wear necklaces in real life, so this was stepping out a bit for me. I have been reluctant to engage in this demi-monde. Once, I landed on an idyllic little spot and strolled through a lovely house beside a stream. A woman avatar typed/shouted at me to get out. This was her land. What was I doing there? I didn't know. A bit embarrassed, and frustrated at not being able to figure how to create objects and buildings (that obviously so many have become so adept at), I left Second Life. I haven't been back for a long time.