This is how it starts. First, I think I can handle it. I delude myself into thinking I can do all things for all people. And then I realize the futility of it all. How do I congratulate a dear player friend on her success, and still manage to laugh at myself and my foibles without offense? No veneer, no pretense, the fact the our amazing Cymre has her own NPC in Azeroth may be the highest honor a player can receive, and she, thank the gods, is very much alive, awesome, and generously giving us great advice and finds. I love Bubbles of Mischief, and think Cymre is wonderful. I was sharing this news with CD Rogue on our afternoon constitutional, and we both remarked that this is an honor we would never realize. I told him of my dreams of being ‘sexy librarian’ in the game, a mage or warlock who snatches off her tortoise-shell glasses and undoes her auburn hair and she says, “Hush, this is a place of learning!” But alas, we both decided that if I had an NPC in Azeroth she would be “Molly McBallbuster” and her famous lines would be “I’ll crack yo’nuts!” and she kicks you in the …and you get a new emote of “owmyballs.” (This is CD Rogue’s creative genius, not mine.) So, I tried to make a Molly McBallbuster, but alas, the name was taken:
She hangs around in Coldridge Valley, nagging the blacksmith trainer night and day, but he loves her, and won’t do a thing to harm her. She’s right, you know. Always right.
I don’t know about the weather patterns where you live, but here in the western side of Washington state, we have a phenomenon known as “June Gloom.” Some even call this month “June-uary.” I will always wake up early in the morning, I believe, even if I dabble in ‘night owlery.’ But this perception is somewhat false: yes, it’s overcast this morning, but by afternoon the skies will clear, the sun will pour mild, sweet 75-80 degree rays on us (23C), and the dandelion weeds in my yard will exponentially triple in size and furor. They call to me, taunt me – “We DARE you to come out here! PULL US MORTAL!” But I am weakened by the allergen debuff, and well, there’s only that. And the laziness issue. That too. But I do enjoy projects, yes indeed I do, and if getting the yard not so trashy is one, I’ll get on it. Maybe. Years ago I planted butterfly bushes, having seen them at the Woodland Park Zoo, with, you guessed it, butterflies, and thought they would be cool. Butterfly bushes are basically weeds. Big weeds. Weeds that shower their fertile flowery goodness all over the place and rendered any attempt at gardening or landscaping futile. I have cut them down, trimmed, hacked, pruned, and suffered while showered with their flower “love seeds” destroy me. They won. A boon is they draw hummingbirds, which are the essence of delight. Who can say no to a hummingbird? And yes, there are butterflies, too. But I wouldn’t know about any of these because I haven’t really spent any time outside in a long time. I see the dandelion weeds from my window because well, it’s easy. They’re huge. But the hummingbirds are fleeting. I better get out there or I might miss them.
I’m trying to get back to what made Azeroth also so wonderful, so engaging, while still striking a balance of work and play. One aspect of play I cannot resist are new characters and specializations/classes. I have no plans or ambitions to tank anything at this juncture – I just like different characters. I am becoming the GRR Martin of Azeroth. (And yes, just as many get “deleted.”) So introducing Jujuoka, who shall be a Bear/Cat druid:
I still have my Warlock project going, and met up with this very interesting fellow last night, Vitus Darkwalker:
Oh Gilneas, my beautiful, beautiful starting zone, why oh why doesn’t Blizzard do more with you? Now, I wonder if Master Darkwalker will get a make-over like the rest of the Azerothian human males? Hubba-hubba!
One thing I am not loving about the WordPress format is Blogger has a blogroll feed that allows for easy clicking and reading, and WordPress does not. The blogroll is static. But maybe that’s just as well: I am overwhelmed but the sheer volume of media and connections I have allowed in my life. This links to that and pings this and updates that and blasts over there and yikes. A lot like butterfly bushes. The other day my adolescent nephew spammed Facebook stickers at me, and this morning just this second I got a ping from my friend who needs help cleaning out her work place – which involves me, my truck, and my younger son. Not what I had planned today. If I had silenced my phone I could have claimed blissful ignorance, but because I heard it I jumped up to see if it was my mom or other son, and….sh*t. When does the statute of limitations run out on people asking to borrow your truck? Never is the answer. So I was thinking about trying a screen-time detox of sorts. Anyway, she’s off to work with others who will respect and treat her like a valued college, something I am dreaming of, too. I’ve been in many situations where I’ve worked with great people, but my current situation is a bit toxic. I know it when I see it, both good and bad.
Speaking of good: OLRG – if you’re not doing anything this Saturday how about we go get that staff for Momo? Sure! Let’s! See you around 3-4’ish? And I haven’t forgotten newer content too, but am going to write that post another time. My friend Turkic just laughs at me when I say, “Do you think Xak will ever come back?” Running With Scissors is where I met most of the friends I still have to this day, and Xak and his fabulous brother Con are two of the funniest, smartest young men I know. Whether or not you go back to raid leading or not, Sir Smarty-pants Xak, is completely understandable, but it sure was fun and I learned so much.
All right – guess my friend needs me, my son, and my truck. Guess I’m a bear tank after all today.
I was told yesterday by a dear friend regarding another leader I know that I am too trusting, that I don’t think in devious or hurtful ways, so when I have these epiphanies about others’ motivations/agendas I am newly shocked and disappointed. I always expect the best from people, and no – I am not always disappointed. Far from it. I recognize and celebrate when someone does something that is of good character, too. But one thing that never disappoints or surprises me is when people tell you who they are, listen. Seriously. If they tell you others have called them an asshole, on more than one occasion, listen. If they talk behind your back, and you hear it, listen. If they continually slam the door in your face, hear the sound of the welcome mat being yanked out from under you. One subtextual disappointment is that others continue to support this behavior by their presence. But truly, I’m not interested in what others do, and once again I am reminded that the toughest actions are those we have control over. Which are most of them.
Back to Sheep: again, I wish I could find that one post. It reminded me of some insight I had when I first started playing, that many of the players, not all by any stretch, are grown men who find ego soothing for perhaps when they were teenagers, made fun of for being a nerd and not the cool jock. Unfortunately, there is a class of nerd that has the ego of the stereotypical jocks, and the smugness that accompanies them. These are no ‘welcome to my fort’ kind of boys/men. And yes, it tends to be men. You may call me on my casual sexism if you wish, you’re welcome to. Most women I’ve encountered are some of the nicest, smartest, most welcoming people I know (and most of the men in game, too). So I’ll meet you halfway: like the minority of players who are women who expect to be ‘given’ things is mythical in my opinion, however the minority of men who trend toward nerd-asshattery is fairly common. It’s kind of a ‘little man syndrome’ thing in pixels.
Yesterday before my social network smack-down, I worked on making a new path for myself in my real life. I did listen (it takes a while for things to get through my thick skull). I asked for advice from those I trust on how to go about this, and received this advice. This summer is going to be a time of life reorganization, and I’ve already begun the process. I’ve always felt it’s better to run to something than run from something.
Next week I’ll be starting a writing seminar session that will last for two weeks. I cannot wait. I am in such a rut right now, that it’s going to take a grand change of scenery and conversations to get me out of it.
In Azerothian news, besides from realizing I may never get Garrosh in normal mode because of, well, so many things. I’ve done this as Kellda and others in Flex and so many normal raids up to him, but…but I don’t want to lose heart yet. Momokawa is at the stage of the cloak quest at the Thunder Forge, which I hate. Hate. Hate so much. Hate.
And indeed, how can I stay annoyed when there are beautiful angels like this in Azeroth? I mean, just look at her! It’s my world, too, little men of Azeroth. With blessing and abundance of friends and riches.
Mr. Snerguls here: Update: I really need to keep better track of what I read. It was an article on Grimmtooth’s blog: http://wowblog.grimmlabs.com/archives/1878 not Sheep’s. Both are superlative blogs, and I highly recommend them.
I’m pretty sure, my theory is, and have formulated a hypothesis that the new Battle.net interface has ruined my life. My eyesight is going, my work ethic crumbling, and procrastination levels have reached code red. It is just too damn easy to click and fall into a game of Hearthstone (priests: I hate you). It is the first official Monday of my summer sabbatical (unpaid, unstructured, and unappreciated) but I am mustering determination to get the nitty-gritty stuff done I’ve been putting off forever. Garage? Yes please. Bills and paper work? Why, sure, don’t mind if I do. Hang up silk blouse and put away clean underwear? Now you’ve gone too far. So today is list day, and with a list I shall arm myself with concrete/sequential goodness. I treated myself yesterday and went to a university bookstore. I swear: what is it about the smell of used textbooks and insignia T-shirts that make me swoon with nostalgia? There is no sweeter aroma than perhaps a baby’s head than the smell of academia for me.
But I digress. (It’s what I do.) Saturday, a much needed goofing-off time in the land of Ulduar with my buddies (welcome back, Helke!) and as always a pleasure Tome and Breige. Tome got to hear the story of how I lost my mage:
I thought this was a very charming letter. I am sure the Customer Service representatives’ lives are just as ordinary as the rest of ours, however I think it would be fun to write these correspondences, too. Here’s the thing: when I am stressed, I spend money. It’s part of process addiction responses, I am sure, a coping mechanism that brings about more trouble than it’s worth. Don’t ask me about this mage. I’ll just say I thought I was deleting a new druid and because my eyesight is crappy, and things were stressful a few weeks ago, and maybe there was a shot of Silver Patron tequila involved, I deleted an expensive mage. SHUT UP. Okay, okay. I discovered her loss (and this is a true story) when I had Zeptepi make her some glacial robes (because this mage’s theme is all blue and frosty) and when I went to transmog her she…wasn’t there. Now, we all know mages are tricksters, but this was even beyond normal mage shenanigans. My anagnorisis pained me: I had deleted her. Off to the customer service buttons! Click click type bring her back spell! And there she was, intact, none the worse for wear, but a bit peeved. (It’s hard to tell if a frost mage is giving you the cold shoulder.)
In any case, her name is Keaek: I wanted a palindromic name for a mirror-mage, and I admit she’s a bit too self-possessed for me at times, and I have a lot to learn about frost mages. Mostly she’ll be a fashionista, and if I learn more about frost mages along the way, all the better:
On Saturday, as mentioned we did a quick run through Ulduar, and Helke picked up a great set of leather goggles!
I find that Ulduar’s sensibilities are quite Steampunk. Which reminds me of two new addictions of late: Weird Tales Magazine feed – the illustrations will make you gasp on a daily basis, guaranteed. I mean, seriously:
I have also been enjoying the photography/illustrations from Gothic Beauty magazine. I do not dress like this. I own no black lipstick. I am too old and too Yankee Doodle for this. But I swear, I have an outer wardrobe, and most certainly an “inner” wardrobe.
Now, you’re probably wondering about the title of this post. Who wouldn’t? Well, I have been watching movies again. Actually watching them. Not just looking at my laptop while it’s on, but getting into it. This multitasking bullshit is taking its toll, and is highly overrated. In fact, when they say the devil is in the details, its big brother is Satan is a multi-tasker. I noticed there, in Freya’s forest, a beautiful nymph named simply dubbed “Misguided,” and that led me to wonder, what exactly would a nymph do to be deemed misguided? I mean, really- think about it. Nymphs by nature enjoy sexual liberation, scoff at “shaming” of any kind, and have a robust interest in pleasure. What’s not to like? So if she is misguided, does that mean she’s joined a religious missionary and is out spreading the gospel, trying to convert her lusty, lascivious friends to a life of chastity and…boredom? She is misguided indeed.
Next: Horny Chileans. Watch ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,’ and you’ll see this small but humorous plot point. And much like the protagonist, Walter Mitty, I hope to make some of my own oxygen choices and get up, get out, and do things.
So many little pieces. So many little pieces coming together. This one has curves. This one ninety degree angles. And maybe ninety angels. Angels watching over you, but you sacrifice time after time, click-by-click, tock by tick, one-way treadle to provide. Our keeper. Our keeper who reluctantly sheds skins of molted scales of time. Time. Time is our gift; we spend and spill it like seeds, like children, wasteful and squandering, missed targeted, but not lost. The spell worked. The spell worked and you fell down while I floated and you fell but you fought. You fought.
There’s one born every minute, including the one who is credited for saying this. I saw that Black Prince buff, and being too overwhelmed to do anything about it, I did what every leet player does: I ignored it. But when I had a moment to read it, and saw Cymre wrote a post, too, thought I should take another look. By the way, did you know that Druids are the most passive/aggressive of all the classes? It’s true. Momokawa told me those pants didn’t make me look fat, even though I didn’t ask, and then she said “Shame about your guild issues and derping so that you’ll probably not get your wolf pony from Garrosh. Wish I could help, being your best healer and all, but alas, no cloak.” Damn, woman! Okay, okay! So let’s give it a shot. Everyone complains about the PvP portion, and I figured,
hey, if I can get through it on three other ladies, it won’t be that bad. It kind of was. But you know, the second Momokawa switched to heals from her owl feathers she rocked it. Keeping those hot-shots alive is actually more important FTW than being one of the hot-shots. So as it stands, she has until the 30th to get more Secrets (she’s currently at 7/20) and the trillium won’t be an issue with all the miners in the family.
Oh, and about that PvP, I really am kind of proud of that. She lived through the entire Temple of Katoblahblahblah and almost through the Silver Thingie Place.
So OLRG, if ya’ll are around on Saturday I should be available, too. I’ll start seeing what’s what around 3pm Pacific Time — it’s the first day of summer in the Northern hemisphere, so I don’t blame anyone for taking advantage of the extra light. We need our Vitamin D you know.
I swear – I will be back. In the past 48 hours, I have been the most important person in people’s lives and been called a “f*cking crybaby” by others. I have uncovered real life trolls who look like beautiful young ladies on the outside, but their hearts are dark and warty. I have met young valiant squires who are going to become amazing men. And, I have played the witch and the goddess in a single moment. It’s kind of exhausting.