Yes, sometimes you get the bear:

Steady…steady….keep calm…hit the tamer button…careful!

Arcturis decided he wanted to go home with Haanta after all. One or two other hunters stopped by, the last one inquiring about spawn times, and politely left.

Obviously I did not have time to go hunt down some better mog gear before this screenshot: that’ll be my next project. Might even change my hair color…

Now–let’s think about this for a minute.
The real buffs in Azeroth do not come from a button or spell:

Mataoka’s cloak: Friendship element
Haanta’s bear: Patience buff
Ceniza’s pet: Pure Dumb Luck charm
Kellda’s green fire: Ah, now this one, this one is going to take cunning, study, trial-and-error, repair bill gold, and a whole lot of smarts. Call this the “Most Clever Witch” enchantment. This is going to take some brain cells and elbow grease.

Momokawa received some assistance in her Gokk quest, too:

Which is a sight for sore eyes.

I was going to link one of the awkward album covers from this BuzzFeed, but thought against it. If you have eye soap, feel free to click. Otherwise, you have been warned. These…these are not good. No. Bad. Very, very bad. If you think Anous is evil, well…

Day 17: Exercise


Zombie gnomes, spirit wolves, and elementals: all helping me–what more could a girl ask for?

I was so…proud of myself? No, pride isn’t the right word. Just –feeling that sense that ‘nothing succeeds like success” kind of feeling, that I accomplished something when I wasn’t staring so hard at “it.” A few years ago, I gained weight due to stresses at my job, bad life habits, taking care of everyone and everything else but myself. Then I started playing WoW when the big life project was completed, and I noticed, slowly, surely, over time, weight started falling off of me. So much so I had to buy new clothes, people noticed and praised how good I looked, and I thought to myself, “Never again.” I even have a post about it: Work It.

Here was my advice:
*When you are waiting, waiting, waiting, get off your tail and dance like a Night Elf, male or female. Both are fun and sweaty dances. Did you think I was kidding when I said that? Top Ten Things to Do While Waiting in Queue.

*Get your RL drudgery done FAST so you can play

*When snacking, eat like a gnome. Lots of fresh apples, carrots, etc. Drink plenty of water. Don’t touch the mana cakes.

*Walk everywhere you can, like a lower-level toon. No level 20/40/60 speed mounts for you. Hoof it.

It’s tough to look at a Draenei girl’s ideal form and not feel either completely hopeless or inspired. The superhero over-articulated and idealized artistic form would look weird and maybe even kind of horrifying if it existed in the real world. Mat’s human will never have a tail, hooves or horns. (She may have invisible horns when she’s feeling mean, but that’s another story.) Besides, she couldn’t find shoes for those big hooves, and the nearest blacksmith is in the next town. But, she does have some height and the smile going for her–that’s a start.

And she can rock it like a Night Elf.

Well “never” is a short time.

I leveled healers and a tank, and no longer did I have to wait in queues. Slowly, sinisterly, waiting for queues became more important than getting off my ass to do something around the house, to use that nervous energy to move. There were more things to do in-game, more dailies, more coins, more more more more more and my spectrum of ‘process addiction’ tilted toward the end of unhealthy. Leaving Azeroth became more difficult, and the scale, and tight pants, proved it: but tight pants can be silenced by sweat pants, all soft and quiet, who don’t judge, and there there Matty, it’s okay – that wine you gave up? And beer? Yeah, giving that up was a huge help in weight loss, and its return has been a huge factor in being, well, huge. It’s funny, too, because if I chart the life-stresses there is a causal effect for weight gain too. Yesterday CD Rogue and I were at a thing, and he got an unexpected low sugar. Not wanting him to pass out (go figure, huh?) I ran to find a vending machine located up several flights of steps. Both panicking to reach it in time, I hustled, and it made me short of breath. NOOOOOOoooooOOO….this is NOT who I am! This is NOT my level of health! But apparently it was. I made it and returned in time with a few snacks, but he was out of sorts the rest of the day, so no walk, (yes I could go by myself) and kind of left me in a funk.

Unlike sweatpants, many of you are going to judge me fiercly for what I am about to tell you, and I am stealing myself against the criticism now, but until you walk a mile in my red Tom’s shoes, /shrug. My friend Turk helped me a lot with the final Wrathion quest, and by a lot I mean A LOT – he gave my restoration spec a huge makeover and put the training wheels on my bike, so to speak. I want to thank him for his time, expertise, and assistance. My justification in his level of help comes down to emotionally, in game, was ready to move on. In my evil heart there are things I need to do in the real world, and constantly re-examine why I spend time in Azeroth is getting to be too much.

Case in point: Momokawa was trying to open the big Gokk clam last night. She was on her third try, and about halfway through its health. Got a whisper did I want to go heal Meagera. Sure. But. Sure. Okay. Took Zep, three wipes later, (not my fault: there’s not I in fault), and that’s that. Would I have loved to swoop in there, heal all the mess, do all the things, perfectly and wonderfully? Sure. She had no flasks on her, no food, no potions, and apparently no one else did either. I saw one of the tanks advertising in trade chat this morning for a healer for a raid spot, three nights a week for four hours a night. There was no way in hell I would venture into that territory.

No thanks.

No. Thanks.

I’m hunting spirit bears and big clams. And — that shaman–takes my breath away in her enhancement beauty. Seriously: how can you not love that girl? Her hero helped her get her that cloak, and she will wear it well.

PS I have a training dummy of my own in the garage, from my tae kwon do days. Couple of round-house kicks to that thing relieve quite a bit of stress, too….

Sorting through…

While I’m thinking about how to best approach my ‘exercise’ post for today, I came across the WoW Insider Breakfast Topic: What Storyline Left You Mumbling Wait Wut?

I was telling CD Rogue yesterday that writing these coin stories has been one of the most engaging things I’ve done in a long time: they take a bit of research, I learn more lore, and can exercise my creativity. For me, and I realize ya’ll will call me a lore noob and rightfully so, I am still not totally clear on why Bolvar Fordragon is now the Lich King, unless it’s just that simple: he is truly noble and sacrificed himself for the good of all. Usually those “keepers of the damned for all eternity” means eternity isn’t what we think and is cut short. Hmmm.

This is one fan’s imagining of the Return:

And I also always wondered why this girl was in the bubble, and who she was:

So now I know.

My Kindle charger broke the other day. I’ve had to resort to reading…gasp…real books. I’m not sure if it’s the charger or the connection point. After payday I’ll take it into Radio Shack and keep my fingers crossed. That is one thing I love love love about real books: they don’t need to be plugged in.

So I’ll finish The Night Life of the Gods by Thorne Smith soon; in the meantime I have Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs. Good stuff.

Mataoka’s and Navimie’s Fished–Up-Wish: Molok

This–ends sadly.

“Just once–that’s all I ask for, just once–let the lass ride with me.” Molok’s drunken heavy lids stayed closed a beat too long when he tossed the copper in the fountain. Dwarfs…never underestimate their capacity for imagination: he could almost feel her thin, strong arms holding tightly to his waist, her spun-flaxen hair tickling his ears in the wind. She would be no burden to bear, one so light as she. Dwarfs’ reverie, however, is usually short-lived. He opened his eyes, heard the water of the fountain, and felt a great need to piss. He lumbered back to the inn to sleep off the ale.

He saw a couple strolling hand-in-hand, hearing a hearty hello from Rhonin, and a nod from his beautiful wife.  She hooked a strand of her flaxen hari behind her long, delicate ear. Aye, Rhonin was gracious enough, a good leader, a fine man that one, but argh, he could be a bit pompous in the pompadour. Molok’s service and loyalty was to one true  hero: Falstad. Daily flights and practice aerials were part of the duties of a gryphon master of Molok’s calibre, and part of the drills were to take diplomats and their families to safety. Falstad trusted Molok’s gryphon handling skills above all others, so Molok was charged with taking the heaviest in weight, and in political power. In mock simulation after another, Rhonin was his charge.

But just once...

Navimie’s Genn (wondeful as always)