There you are, taking advantage of a rare, free afternoon, coming to terms with the fact that you’ll never get that Moose, or taller, or any of your larger, more “tailed” sisters will see the light of Heroic Archimonde, and who do you see in trade chat, but one young Ftbubbler, Esquire, asking if anyone wants to do a heroic Arch run, for love, gold, and moose-s.
You inquire. It’s fair, You trade. And you’re ported away to the platform, zip boom bang it took about five minutes to bring him down, and look: #19 on the meters!
Oh, there’s more? You got a 720 Level Mace that is now making that angel Zep turning feel-green with envy? And that snooty shaman is just shaking her head in disgust? Oh, and of course there’s the DAMN MOOSE–you had to travel to Moonglade for Velen’s sake, talk to the hairy feathered dude who walked to the lake on two legs, washed off a red rock, and made a moose out of it. Don’t tell me those hippies ain’t smoking some of whatever’s in their herb pouches. At least they share. At least they share.
Look, we’ve all known for a long time I have no shame. I really don’t. I could give two gnome boogers about being carried for this moose. If it put some gold in a paladin’s pocket and made me a little happier, screw it. And who more noble than a shitty shadow priest named Pessah to see it through?
Well, damn, I’m sorry east-coasters. All we have here in the northwest is rain, and more rain. Some of my friends from Florida are making plans to move back to sunnier climates, though, because they just can’t take the darkness. And it is dark, make no mistake. CD Rogue gets in a funk. I battle it. And there’s not much to be done for it, truth be told. But hey! There’s always Ulduar! The most beautiful place in all of Azeroth. Since the Mimiron mount is still on stingy-mode, thought I would put together a little fashion show based on the hodgepodge of pieces from various places, but including at least one Ulduar find:
Moods–quirky lot, those things. All week I’ve been in the mood to write a love story, about waiting, abandonment, life with ghosts, all covered in ivy, icy moonbeams, and seamstresses tailored in silk.
But I can never think of an ending.
But, if anyone’s interested, here’s what I’ve been doing — over the Winterfeast of Veiled Disappointment I made sure to run those dailies as often as I could, on every character, until I got the yeti mount thing not only for myself, but Druid Cub and CD Rogue. Yes, I could have sold the extras, and for a pretty gold penny too, but meh. Oh, and our mutual friend Breige talked me into moving some characters to Aerie Peak to join ConvertToRaid, and I haven’t begun to dig out all the bonuses they offer.
CD Rogue found a new job, so hopefully things will improve around here. I’ll find some head space to write, but right now I just feel this pallid sense of letting everyone down all the time. Over the holiday I did catch a horrible case of blues, so bad, so sudden, that I couldn’t go to my book club. It was weird: it felt anthropomorphic, and cruel. But that’s why we in the Northern Hemisphere light a lot of fires in December. I damn near wanted to set the manger on fire, but nothing should make baby Jesus cry.
Yes, Old Ladies. I need you. Look for requests to go do stuff.