Category Archives: Momokawa

Tiny Story Time: Pennyroyal Tea (1 of 3)

The night before, while tending to resentful business, next to the iron bank vault, the hibernating druid rested his bony bottom on the floor, encased in leaves, bark, twig and twine: all knotted up, tight. Wound as a top, the energy entombed, potential power, ready to pop. The iron leached the cadence of the forest from him, poisoning marrow, residing, tainted, and twisted. She saw that he was ill, and heard his raspy sleepy breath, and dared not wake him. Momokawa finished her business, and cast her spell.

The acrid gloam blew dusty spores onto the back of her neck, scuttling, skittering like tiny spiders, into the hidey-holes of her pores. Momokawa scratched the back of her neck, her fingernails and fingertips coming back a dry, baby-kind of brown dirt. This area where she landed on her roulette-wheel of a spell, the spell that would cast her to any area in the world promising of fat, lush nature sent her somewhere…unsafe. She looked up at the sky, and most of the trees covered the sun’s milky edge to the west, too low for summer at the time of day she believed it was, and then she was uncertain. The hour never seemed to change. The air cotton-balled in her throat. Landing in the middle of a mushroom circle, not perfect, but a confident, I-Dare-You to question kind of circle. The top of her head fit just under the tallest mushroom.

The spores dug in further: she saw the meadow is in that middle space between decay and regrowth. Hair brushed down on her face, unwashed but not unclean, growing from the oils and dirt of the false meadow. She studied the circle, a bit shaggy in the corners, wondering why her odd spell would bring her here. It had never happened like this before, not one time. She usually transported to tired, green forests, so old and soaked with chlorophyll, transforming all living things to shades of unnatural emeralds, limes, celadon and citron. Verdant to the point of obscene. Mating in those woods was as natural as life spawns, budding in the open, spiraling fronds and dewdrops. She wondered why no elves lived there permanently. It offered every protection to the outside world: no harm or fire ever touched those old forests.

But this forest was old, too, and offered no protection.


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…

Fat Bottom Girls

I asked JD’s permission if I could post my own variation of the Mogolympics’ entries after others are published. The entries for the cyclying event were very Sturgis-inspired (and I thought this long before reading others’ comments and observations). I have many friends, women in fact, who ride, and ride to Sturgis. leather-clad mommas who have found freedom from the mundane on their very own Harleys. That’s awesome. But my interpretation of Olympics-inspired cycling was much more Tour De France than Tour De South Dakota. Perhaps I was thinking more of the Fremont Festival Solstice Parade, which I have mentioned before: (Not safe for work!? Heck! Take it to the streets!)

You may not care for this ensemble one bit–that’s fine. And that’s what I would like to tell all the entrants of Mogolympics. Every single one of you did a great job. Every single one of you spent time doing something you enjoy doing. You may think the use of the spinning fist weapon silly, but I love it. Momokawa looks like she’s ready to fly on her bicycle.  And isn’t that what we all want to do? Just fly away sometimes? 

Educating Miss Momo

Momokawa hiding in a tree

Yesterday, a minor calamity. My coffee maker, well, it kept leaking and damaging the counter, so much so I found a puddle of coffee in a mixing bowl in the cupboard. So, into the garbage, and going to wait till payday to get a new one. And the a/c broke. It keeps freezing up, and it finally turned warm. These are silly, menial bugaboos, but suffice it to say I’m not feeling super sharp right now. My similes are sloppy and my metaphors mopey.

Thank heavens other writers are writing great just-in-time articles:

Navi provides another amazing comprehensive guide to her tree spec and choices. See people, this is what I’m talking about! Now I am going to take a look at Momo’s and shake up her tree a bit:

Also, Tzufit has a wonderful reflection on our sense of competition and raiding progression:

Finally, JD writes an editorial on why we should have account-wide ignore:

His idea has been expressed recently even in my guild chat. I was musing to myself that if that happens, at some point none of us will be talking to anyone in game, kind of like how no one likes to go out anymore–we all just nest at home. And in our nests, if we find friendships in the social interactive world, and get to pretend we’re flying and killing dragons, what a bonus!

This brings up a bigger issue, and I was trying to find the research to back up this theory, but in any social context, things start off great, and then disintegrate. My druid Momokawa has been the recipient of asshattery, and I am hesitant to even log into her character for the concern that again, she will not win the healing mace to make her more efficient, or any of the tokens she needs to help her help others. But that’s what I get for having so many alts and enjoying the game on many levels–shame on me! If I had just focused on one or two, they’d be flying around on their blue dragons with talking staffs and there’d be cookies and ice cream for everyone! (This brings up my annoyance – I just wish we could trade good weapons across our alts. Know it will never happen, but sure would be cool.)

Some links to articles on social interactions and computers:

A link to what motivates us: (love, baby, it’s always love)

And finally, a book review link from a Forbes writer, Why Doesn’t Society Just Fall Apart?

I have no doubt that the wizards at Blizzard take long, hard looks at these kinds of studies.

Even Yoda evolves…

However good the intentions are of MMOs and their desires for us all to get along, work out our own issues, and report for spam, my continued response is we are not sea-monkeys. We did not spawn out of salt and water. Well, we did, but okay, I’m hoping we’ve evolved a tiny bit since primordial soup and crackers days. Soup to nuts is more like it.

We all want to belong.
In the efforts to belong, sometimes humans are cruel thinking that is what will gain them social status.
We all need play.
In our efforts to find respite and relaxation, sometimes we choose activities that are competitive and goal-oriented.
Sometimes people are jerks because they are.
Studying their motivations for psychotic behavior is a full-time job, and we as a society often fail tragically.

Case in point: Yesterday I was went to LFR with my dear friend. There was this shaman healer, and something…wasn’t right. A druid grabbed the healing off-hand, and you would have thought he punched the shaman’s mother. The shaman would NOT SHUT UP, even after the druid whose main space was resto, offered to another healer besides the two who were griefing him relentlessly, and I mean relentlessly. I even opened my mouth. The shaman kept yelling NINJA NO HEALS I WILL NOT HEAL IF DON’T GET THINGY NINJA NINJA….and guess what? I voted to kick after we wiped twice on Blackhorn or Blackthorn or whatever, and he was not healing anyone. It took another wipe before people clicked to kick. Unbelievable. It was quasi-hostage mode. I know certain personalities I like to call “hostage takers,” who play the social game stakes way too high. These are some scary, crazy dudes. Maybe he read The Psychopath Test by Jon Ronson. Or maybe he didn’t.

The fact is behind the screens are many mentally imbalanced folks. We are not doing a good job as a civilization in taking care of them. Now, I am about to veer off into territory I don’t want to, so I’ll stop now.

So when life takes your coffee pot, make tea. It’s more civilized anyway.

Postscript: Just saw this image on Facebook

Little Miss Crankypants


There once was a druid named Momokawa
And sometimes her healing was a tad sour
She mashed and chomp leaves
Kept potions and drinks up her sleeves
But decided to drop group for a flower

Momokawa needs a healing mace. What had dropped hundreds, it seems, of times for Zep, Matty, etc., never drops for Momo. If I am with a good group, doing good DPS, healing any and all current dungeons has not remotely been an issue. I saw that this group was in trouble the second the tank had the highest DPS/damage in Well of Eternity. The warrior stepped it up, but even at first I told them I would gladly go if they got in trouble again. After a wipe on trash, the tough trash before the horned devil satyr boss guy, before I even got a chance to say, “Okay, have a nice day,” I got “FAIL HEALS.” 

Hence, the “that is what I said” — no “Hey, look at the rogue and mage doing under 18K, with Well buffs…..

So, yes, this made me a bit cranky on an already cranky spirit. I’m worried about some stuff (it happens from time to time, have a mighty worry gene that sometimes kicks in on overtime), and I just….want…that….damn….mace. Why?



Cause it’s fun to throw leaves around. 
It’s fun to hear “whoooosh!” 
It’s fun to have green, or blue, or teal, or purple, or silver hair and face markings of a pretend tribe.
It’s fun to wear feathers and leather and claws.
It’s even fun to have man-hands and long ears.

I have horrible gear on this druid, and know I am scraping by on a wing and a prayer with this one. I was seriously thinking about finding the tank I wrote of several weeks ago who was so chivalrous – perhaps Momokawa should look him in her little black book and change realms, the one who told her what her name meant. But–no. That would be weird. If Momo was just a character, sure, but those humans misunderstand friendships sometimes. They think the wrong things, or make awkward assumptions. 

But little boy mages and girl rogues…watch out. I might get that mace and smack you over the head with it.

And you warrior —

Dear readers, I do have a better, another grand story to tell, but it’s in my mind right now, from an event that transpired yesterday. Be patient. Going to make myself some tea and read. Gotta get the crankies off of me.


The emotional responses we have to our virtual world are well-documented, heck, just look at my blogroll. For some reason, my ‘cohesion’ button is broken, so forgive me if this veers off toward the ditch. When I checked in to my reader list, delightfully, was bombarded with great things to read, but before I sing the praises of my fellow writers, I have few things to get off my chestpiece:

In this time in my life, I can’t believe I can still get my virtual feelings hurt by others. Yes, I got protective, mothering defense mode for Momokawa yesterday. That little Druid is my sixth level 85. I know…enough is enough. But she’s sweet, self-righteously young, and her character represents all the confidence of youth. And, her gear is crappy. But because she is my sixth high level character, I know what to do to compensate for crap gear. No one has died in a dungeon, or in LFR if I had any control over the heals. Stand in purple goo? Sure–when I go to hit my Leap of Faith button, it’s not there. Left that in the other priestly-pants pocket. 
So anyway, I ran the first part of LFR with her yesterday. Nothing dropped for her, and I’m saving the Deathwing portion to run with buddies in case a healing mace or staff drops for her. Bottom line, cocky Death Knight rolled on the gloves, and offered them to the group:
Now, he never said anything about giving them to a guild-mate, but he did say this to me/Momokawa before he dropped group:
Wait – what? Little…. Okay. In my healing gear, which includes a 346 healing mace, a 316 Rainsong, and some other junky stuff, again, I healed by face-rolling, no one died, and I know what to do. It was a record kill, by the way. For the first time in a long time, I was just glad the hunters didn’t put on Aspect of the Pack during the lightening round, or only one player stood in the ice. 
And then I did something I am not proud of: I started a toon on his server to give him a piece of my mind: all I said was that was not cool to say something mean and he just said “I was going to give the gloves to a guild mate, I never said I was giving them to you.” (Edited for grammar.) And then I was immediately put on ignore, which was understandable. I mean, who wants crazy players coming to your server to chide you? His logic was I didn’t “deserve” the gear because my gear was bad. (Which reminds me of the stats post….) Logically, I know there was nothing I was going to accomplish by speaking to him–he wasn’t going to have some grand “epiphany” or grow-up. I have known 12-year-olds who were better behaved, so to call him a 12-year-old is kind of an insult to them. Is he a grown man? /shrug
Again, on my own, without any help from the RNGs or the Swags of the world, I got enough Valor Points to purchase a new trinket, and replace my Rainsong. Should just say “Go find your own healer.” 
But I did kind of hit a wall. The legions of bad parents who not only are not supervising their children as they “play their computer games” but also post embarrassing videos of said children, or embarrass them publicly in social media venues, astounds me. You. Are. Bad. Parents. There. I said it. I am judging you. And I am right.
I kept playing that scene from Fried Green Tomatoes where Kathy Bates’ parking spot is taken by two young hotties, and she rams her car into them with the justification that she is older and has more insurance. That is such a cathartic scene for all of us who do the right thing, try, play by the rules, and then some cocky asshat thinks the rules don’t apply to them. I know there is a huge comeuppance debuff coming their way, but they still won’t “get it.” They are the abusers, the liars, and the low-lifes. Must have been the theme of the week, because a few close folks in my world were also hit by the Asshat Factor. Therefore, I made us all this:
So, if you ever feel like ramming your Buick in a parking lot of the Winn Dixie, I understand. Momo is covered under a hefty malpractice insurance policy, and has no problem not spreading the leaves of love on your sorry self if need be.

Here Is Where I Make My Real Point

Recently, Tzufit from Tree Heals posted another insightful post on the aging of WoW, and its players. In a conversation last week with another, the point was made that there are studies that have been done that demonstrate the decline of manners and social graces in any virtual world or social construct. Meaning: we are all nice at the beginning, and then it turns to…you know. I have witnessed this myself many times in my real life: everyone starts off kind of shy, putting the little toe in the water, and then works to find their “place” or role in the group. I am not sure what is to be done about it, other than just awareness and honesty–let others know you are aware of what they are doing and why, and this is usually reserved for those folks who are indeed, behaving like an asshat. No one ever stops and says to the good guys, “Hey, thanks for not being an asshat!” Negative attention is better than no attention at all to most humans. 
So to all my friends: “Thanks for not being an asshat.” 
And you’re welcome.

Lock and roll.

Once again some things converged.

This past week, I finished Terry Pratchett’s Wee Free Men.  Aside from having this overwhelming, ‘where have you been all my life’ feeling about Terry Pratchett, there is a repeated term the Nac Macs use, “kelda.” Using my lofty powers of context clues, I figured out it must mean a witch, or queen. Or Witch Queen.

It is an absolutely, completely, charming book. My paperback copy is now chock-full of annotations and highlight quotes (Kindle was left at home).

So, being the clever witch I am, thought I would make a character named Kelda. Not that there aren’t already 32 million Terry Pratchett fans out there, it was somewhat original, right?

Silly witch. Literary references are for smart players. There are 219 Keldas listed in the armory. But see, I know how to make funny typography, and made a Kélda. There are three of us.

And then, I met this Kelda:

Damn. Probably should have rolled another priest. Not quite sure why Kelda was slumming it in an LFR, but hey, even shadow priests need valor points, too, I suppose.

On a completely different note, Momo’s coming along fine. Waiting to get done with her heirlooms so she can hand them over to Kélda. While in Utgarde (still laugh over friend’s comment that every time Ingvar dies, an angel gets her wings) she noticed some things:

Vykruls have cool tats, and:

Their furnishings are pretty fun, too. And damn, that stew looks good!

Was lamenting to Guarf that I wish “Matty” could get some tats. She would love nothing more than to go native with the Vykruls. He commented that in his opinion, that should have been the next race. Agreed. Maybe not replacing worgens or pandas, but it sure would have been cool. As Guarf would say, “Just sayin’.”

Just peachy.

Having trouble with the whole “I broke the Internet” thing, and think all is on the mend, but not without having to kill a computer gremlin or two. Apparently “somebody” put “something” on my computer that was keeping all the good stuff out. Damn, wish it had the AI to sort through my screenshots automatically. Bottom line, no Diablo III yet, while I feel like all the rest of my friends got ice cream money from their moms and are chasing down the drumstick and popsicle man, I’m just messing around with Momo. (And that is NOT what “she said.”)

But, happy accidents:

Got in a few runs with some great folks, and DK tank tells me that Momokawa means “peach river” in Japanese. Soru, from Laughing Skull- you’re the coolest! I was thinking how fortuitous this is for a Druid–her orange sigil is kind of peachy, a deep peach, and I love peaches, especially peach cobbler. (Which reminds me of a fight my mom and favorite uncle had once over her peach cobbler, that it was not the same as the Nanny J*****’s, their grandmother, and hurt feelings and big tears ensued. It was delicious, and made all the more so with the bitter pit of my family’s dysfunctional goofiness.)

He also told me to look up momo kanji and kawa kanji:

and I looked up momo kawa kanji and got some sexy anime. Well, not really, but a link to Sentai Filmworks.

In any case, she is lovely. She received a new leather kilt, so immediately had to go and change hair color, style, and other items to match. Naturally.

Theme song: Peaches/POTUSA (there are ninjas, so keep watching)

Boo-boo bear

Maybe because I’m getting the hang of it, or maybe it wasn’t that difficult, but changing Luperci into a Holy paladin for the quick LFR rush wasn’t bad at all. So taking stock, from the shaman’s restoration spec, Zep’s Holy priest, Lupe’s Holy paladin, and now Momo’s druid leaves, there is a definite pattern: there is the light touch, the boo-boo kiss I call it, to the full-mana-blowing triage, get the crash-cart Code Blue big heals. And like all output, gear, talents, and numbers matter. Right now, dungeons are a bit boring with Momo at this level (60s), but those home-grown organic healing casts sure are pretty spells, and she is lovely casting them. None of my skills as a healer is that great, but it is a VIP pass to quick entry to any situation. Healing is serious business, but somehow I just don’t feel as anxious about it as when looking at my DPS scores, or even the tummy-wrenching moments in tanking. (Ever get yelled at by a Dwarf speaking Portuguese? It is transformative.) I mean, I hate to see good elves die, but healers can blame players for standing in stuff, or the tank not holding aggro. Healers seem to get this pass on performance, fair or not. Good healers are nearly invisible–if no one is dead, then they have done their job. And like misdiagnosing or arrogant physicians, the only real issue is when healers think they have their practice all summed up — but things change, there is always something new to learn. It will come as a shock when Momo is at a higher level and I actually have to run and heal–moving my tail is not my strong suit. (It’s the lack of using Healbot or Macros–I do most of my healing spells the old-fashioned way, and so far so good. But in real raids, that ain’t gonna cut it.)

In the meantime, she is lovely, isn’t she? She changes her hair color frequently to match her ensembles, and once in a while will go in her owl form to put the astronomical-object smack-down on evil doers. And then, she goes and chills in the forest, with her leaves and, well, paraphernalia. Druids have stuff. A lot of stuff.

Too big for your britches…

Today, after work: Clean out that Quest Log. Man, do I love Dreamer’s Rest. Could just look at the view forever.

First of all, if duct tape can’t fix it, it can’t be fixed, in my opinion:

Here is what I have noticed in the lower level dungeons with Momo:

She runs out of sake. A lot. 

With the exception of the Leveling Festival with the best-mannered paladin ever, every dungeon since has been a deathtrap. I spam, spam A LOT,  I mean, I only have Spam, ham, bacon, and eggs to use for healing. I know more will come, a few more spells, but when I look at the spell menu I still still a lot of ham, bacon, Spam, and shred. Lots of things for kitty-cats, bears, and owls.

My dear mage friend simply said let them die–I’m not a mind reader after all. (This tickled me to no end – you’d think those status bars would work as divining rods, but alas, “healthy healthy healthy dead.”) A few times on the planks of the mansions and dusty, bone-strewn catacombs of a dungeon and they’ll get the idea they can’t pull twenty or two-thousand monsters and expect to live through it. What I am wondering is, or suspect in any case, is that players have a few level 85s that have been ripping through old content and then expect their matched levels to do the same. It’s not working. However, the RNGs will be humbling us all once again when we need to go to level 90.


I may just go see if I can find that paladin after all: at least he let me stop for mana along the way. Some of these guys just tie the dog to the roof and hit the gas pedal. Maybe it’s time for Momo to stop and smell the Mageroyal along the way, and get some questing done. If you see a big lumbering owl wandering around, smelling of sake and spam, well, just say hello and offer her a cup of cheer along the way.