I had all kinds of good intentions when it came to my next post: talk about love of shipyards (I have no idea why), talk about my approval of time-walking dungeons (though most groups have really sucked, and have some idea why), and how I am digging the lime-green effulgence of Draenor. I have tried to run a few mythic dungeons with pugs, and those have been an abject failure, but I’ll be able to go with Breige’s group on Friday. I need to watch training videos about the new raids, but alas, i am watching new New Zealand fathers creatively hold a baby. My personal favorites are the double-Jesus and Stinky Nappy for You.
In any case, Stinky Nappy for Me or Stinky Nappy for You, it’s summertime, baby, and time to chill! Nothing about Azeroth, or the real world, should be taken seriously. Think I’ll go have another popsicle…
Update: I don’t know what happened, but around 3PM my time everything started working again.
Maybe my bitching worked.
Going to name a new priest, Wuhdafuq, because seriously BLIZZARD: what the hell did you do?! Shadow form gone on mounts? WHY FOR THE LOVE OF VELEN WHY? Did some junior designer get bored one day and decide to make this change? And no, shadowy friends does not work. What the hell happened to all my pet slots? WHY AM I A GROWN ASS WOMAN GETTING SO INFURIATED WITH THIS #$!$$!!!!! GAME? i will put in tickets. i will go find what I did. I will try to fix my mounts. But sh*t, Blizzard. knock it off
Sometimes the real bosses in the game aren’t bosses at all, but menial chores, or death by a thousand paper cuts kind of thing. I admit: had a teeny, tiny hangover this morning, just a little one, and just wanted to goof around and make a pretty mooncloth robe for Pessah. Little gnome priests look darling in mooncloth, don’t you know? (Maybe it was moonshine from the moonwell?)
Zep went hither and yon to collect a few items, and remembered there is a moonwell in the Caverns. Well, apparently that moonwell is just for show, and not actually a functioning one. Since her hearthstone is all used up, she’ll have to wait until she can find a working well, working well. (The one in Shadowmoon Valley doesn’t work either apparently, and has a big stinky rock in it.) Someone needs to call Bob the Super to come over and fix it. One thing she refuses to do is plunk down 2500 gold for a mooncloth robe someone else made.
So guildmates: if you have some extra felcloth lying around, would you send it her way? She’ll eventually find a working moonwell and make that robe for Pessah. Or sell it for some gold. And don’t mention moonwell moonshine to her this morning: her stomach can’t take it.
A few weeks ago, during all the hullaballoo over flying, I had the repressed sense that there was something else going on. And it dawned on me:
Mataoka still, and never will, look the same.
The subtle shading of her Mona Lisa-esque smile is gone forever. Unless I toggle between old and new models, I am learning to let her old self go. Blizzard disconnected us from our characters, and in doing so, disconnected many of us from Azeroth.
So just who are we in Azeroth, and how much sway do we have? We can’t be gnome hunters, nor gnome druids, or forsaken paladins, but there is some wiggle room. And you know, if there are 7 million of us who role play and dabble in alter-egos on a daily basis, who are we to judge one woman’s role?
But maybe that disconnection to our old character models isn’t such a bad thing. It’s an opportunity to get away from the computer, to look in a mirror instead of a screen. As much as I would like to see Azeroth in more detail, at the same time I wonder if it’ll fall into Lego-syndrome, where every detail is prefabricated so no imagination necessary.
I’ve decided today I’m going to be 24 and thin again. If you don’t see it, that’s your problem. :)
Ack! Cough! Cough! Gasp! Sniff…man, it’s dusty around here! So much clutter and dust! The pets haven’t been leveled, the alts are floundering, even the mains are bored out of their pixels…the NPCS have that thousand-yard stare from lack of purpose…praying for a garrison invasion just to break up the monotony, the poor dears. Well, Mataoka ain’t no Halaa-back girl, and it’s time to start swinging again.*
This editorial in GeekMom got me to thinking about our choices of time. Of late, my focus has been boxed in squarely on real life, but no complaints. I have found in my brief and fleeting time on this blue rock that where energy is spent is where energy pays off. The Matty-shack is in a transitional phase, one of those moments in history where clutter, old, worn, worn down and out, simply must go clutter up the planet somewhere else. Man, do we human gather a lot of stuff. CD Rogue is still on the hunt for a new gig, young leet druid and cub are doing their things, and I’ve been saying my Kronokai Khrystor’s to just about everyone I know. The outcomes have been wonderful, with the collateral damage being this blog is neglected. I can’t make any promises: I’m not remotely ready for 6.2,* have had to leave my sweet raid team for a bit, and just chip away at my garrisons’ mines and pick flowers, take some Claritin, and pick some more in the herb gardens. Well, I’m up in the middle of the night once more, so perhaps I’ll go back to sleep for a bit, then who knows what the day will bring? Weeding through clothes, books, and mines. Guess I have too much time on my hands.
*The best part of that video is when Guldan rolls his red eyes at garrisons…hilarious. Even he wants to redecorate in shades of toxic green.
*This may be one of the best written definitions in Urban Dictionary.