Saturday, June 30, 2012

"Get the fire extinguisher!" Click, please!

JD from Amateur Azerothian spotted the smoldering Ceniza the other day, and recommend I add her to Neri Approves Red Carpet Contest. The voting is up, and I am asking that you please go vote for her. All the entries are gorgeous, but admittedly, I would like it if she got some votes! I'm always for the underdog, or in this case, the under-spacegoat!

Click to vote please:

After you vote for Ceniza (so subtle, aren't I?) please go check out JD's mog of his wife's mage - stunning. 

Friday, June 29, 2012

Know Your Archetype: The Devil

Beetlejuice. Beeltejuice. Beet-

This illustrates the architecture of a demon...
Thinking about Ariel and her voice, and…other things…made me think about the archetype of the devil. The "deal with the devil" is a linchpin of plot connections. There is usually a pivotal moment where the hero gives. trades, barters, or denies something that is so important to their powers in exchange for something they think will save themselves or others. And does the devil need all that stuff? I mean, what does he do with it anyway? Does he own a chain of storage units on the outskirts of town, where legions of trash pickers come to collect the $100 bills behind the sad clown paintings? 

Oh -sorry. Got side-tracked there. 

Anyway, what the devil does with this stuff, I have no clue. Usually he, or she, wants to fill a personal emotional vacuum, such as Beetlejuice's marriage proposal with Lydia, in exchange he will save the Maitlands. He's just really lonely, and is tired of going to miniature model houses of ill repute.'re feeling a little..anxious...if you know what I mean...
Illidan is one such hero turned villain due to his dealings with devils. In an attempt to save his people on a mighty wave of hubris, he turns all dark and brooding. Well, maybe if Tyrande had kept her quiver full, none of this would have happened. It usually helps to blame women, right Eve?

That's hot.
The devil archetype is just about in every narrative and line of discourse. On one end it's simple bargaining, to the other extreme we lose our eternal souls. Dammit, I needed that! Just got that back from the cleaners!

In Azeroth, the big temptations come in the form of buying gold, or paying a guild to carry one through heroic raids for prized weapons and gear. Getting out of those moral entaglements usually takes the rest of the bucket of popcorn and 45 screen minutes to get out of--it usually isn't worth it. Whatever we accomplish in game, and more importantly, out, is worth keeping our souls for, at least 21 ounces doesn't get much in the auction house. Might as well vendor it out.

Every boss that does some sort of slow-burn damage, or face-changing is a type of devil, I suppose. I haven't played long enough to know if there are any current fights where the players bascially need to sacrifice themselves for others' gain. Now those would be interesing fights, to say the least. Think about it: deals with devils in order for the whole raid to succeed, but the sacrificial lamb gets nothing? How would that ever work? Maybe that should be part of a legendary chain, and we all get a chance for pretty blue mounts and dragon-infused staffs. 

Oh wait, we do. Go down to the crossroads and talk to a man there. He'll help you out.

See girls? He loves you.

Thanks, Con. 

Innocent but still feeling guilty. Or, it's a wonderful virtual life.

Okay. I am sorry.


I said it.

I am sorry that there was a player who played so much, so often, and had so many characters, gold, and stuff, that when he decided to quit the game, it was like the death of a favorite, and rich, uncle who left me damn near everything, including: Vial of the Sands, ready to go, gassed up, keys in the ignition. I even wrote about it here.

This apology has been swirling around my mind for awhile, ever since I knew Tome was A. Looking for it, B. Found it, and C. Frustrated over the materials. 

Tome, pretend you are a REALLY big pigeon, and you that thing that pigeons do on statues...

I have often thought about this player, whom every one of his characters' names began with the letter "Q." I was telling a game friend the other day about him, because all I was just nice, and as I told my friend, not "escort service level nice." Just nice. I am a friendly little Draenei, and genuinely do love people. It's a gift I guess. I'm one of "those." Try as I might, I just can't hate humanity. Doesn't mean I want to be around them all the time, but all in all, do like you guys. 

But Tome, I get you. I really do. This gift was unexpected and most likely unwarranted. I mean, to give away at 40K mount meant that player was really, truly, quitting. No angel named Clarence was going to come and show him how Azeroth would be different if he wasn't there. No angel was going to get his wings every time a bell in Stormwind rings. And certainly no Old Man Potter boss was going to be bested by friendship and community service. 

I know why we players get saddened that the "big goodies" are so out of reach for the solo or partner players, and why the raiders feel a certain amount of deserved entitlement to the good stuff. Tried to kill heroic Shannox last night with new guild, and did great the first, oh, 12,789 tries, but the 12,790-12,987th tries I keep stepping in *!*!*&(&(*&$YOSEMITESAM&*&(*#(*&($ traps. They were hidden under Shannox's big, fat, phallic, slimy ass tail, or hidden by shiny Sanctuary, or stepped on a rock and the sun's in my eyes-damn-I-am-tired-and-need-to-take-my-pills. 

It takes a balanced cocktail of creativity, ingenuity, luck, and "Frankly Scarlet I don't give a damn" to enjoy Azeroth. The cooldowns and wait times and bean counters have it all too well mapped out to give us players what we want. The luck favors the House, always. There are no clocks in a casino, and few in Azeroth, and when the layers cross over too much to real-world grinding, well, then damn. 

I have a rich uncle in real life. Well, kind of. He inherited some money from a friend, and then took the whole family on a Caribbean Disney Cruise a few summers ago, during the oil spill. I would never have gotten to see that part of the world if he hadn't had a rich friend in college, and then the friend dying, and then my uncle feeling the need to pull together a somewhat dysfunctional family for fun on a boat. It was hot, the beer was too expensive (ran up a $1400 tab--hush--I wasn't the only one drinking), and got the living beejeezus scared out of me by the actions of another person (long story, not to be shared here). But---

---I did see blue, blue waters, manta rays that I got to pet and feed, bought Starbucks from baristas who didn't give a sh8t and weren't all-hyper, and watched the Little Mermaid on a large movie screen on deck with cocktails. 

Again, I have no real point. I wish Tome would get her pet, her mounts, and her materials more easily. I wish DirecTV wouldn't praise me for being a customer since 1996 and then not come out and fix my dish. I wish my dreamcloth wasn't so stupid to make so I can make my own magical pants. And I wish my new boss had been more respectful of my concerns when I brought them to her at the end of a very, very difficult time. But alas, none of these things happen. And my mojo also gets depleted. 

But there is blue, blue water out there....and somewhere Ariel is wishing for legs so she can dance with her only cost her her voice. But these silences are temporary--in the end, the tentacled monsters are defeated, and there is a happy ending.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Sharp pencils.

A game friend let me know yesterday he added me to Google+. I asked if it was my "real" self or my "avatarial" self. He wasn't sure, and when I checked, sure enough it was my avatarial self. Dammit. Will the real Matty please stand up? The reason I mention this is I was having perhaps a tiny bit of writer's block, that feeling that whatever I would put down would be the same old dribble and slop, and as I told Guarf yesterday, I was even tired of reading it...

...but then this other thing happened. I love to spam my visitors, it's true. Once in awhile I'll catch a friend or two whom I may not see in game, but they stopped by this virtual home for something to read. I also love to see what posts folks are persusing, and this morning it is:
I clicked on the drabble "Kolin," because there was no recollection of even writing it. Sure enough, it's pretty darn good!

The point is, if my avatarial selves get inter-mingled, they are the vehicles to my voice, my little imaginings. What we come to expect, if we begin to feel apathy or take the extraordinary for granted, will trip us up every time. It's that one little fraction, the slightly-off perspective, that keeps life interesting.

One misstep at a time, people, one misstep at a time: New York City Subway Stairs

More great reading suggestions:

From Draenor with Love
Warchief's Command Board --series
Amateur's Posthumous Story

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Monkey see, monkey you are a jerk

Well, crud.

Sitting here enjoying a nice afternoon of ibuprofen-relaxed profession leveling on Momokawa and Zeptepi (damn, that enchanting stuff is pricey!) and I read this stream in trade-chat that is like witnessing a gang beating up a kid in an alley. Did I stop them? Did I say anything? No, I chickened out.

Basically, what you don't read before this is the citizens of Whisperwind deciding Nenrock is gay, and 12, and then subsequently harassing him to leave the server. Nothing I read by Nenrock suggested any reason for this harassment, no trolling or provocation. And even if he was, no need to blame the victim/target--he was just bullied, plain and simple. His spelling was perfect, by the way, suggesting that he is not 12. As to his sexual orientation, that is his business, just as mine is mine and yours is yours. The language of bullying is clearly demarcated: we call each other the names that we feel we are most vulnerable with, things at our very core we cannot change: the color of our skins, our sexual orientation, our cultures, our parents, and our gender.

I hate it.

Now this screenshot is out of context. I have no idea if "Kylerie" was secretly whispering Nenrock with nice words, or if it was a usual trade-chat hoax. I hesitate to even put this here because if they are innocent of harassment, then they should be left alone, too. But I decided to put it for maybe some greater good, a message to myself, that if I do see trade-chat bullying, to maybe step in when I need to. I have whispered players in the past to see if they are okay, or to give them clear information, and it's either met with a "thanks, I know, just kidding around" or a "thanks."

Radiolab: Lucy

Social Media Chimps:

Speaking with an adolescent authority on this issue this afternoon, because the younger generation is clearly ensconced in a code or diatribe we digital pioneers still do not grasp, or want to, he reminded me that in evolutionary protocols there is much "bullying" in chimpanzee communities as part of a strengthening of the tribe. Okay. I get that. But at what point do we humans stop de-evolving and step up our game a bit? At what point do we embrace the extra-ordinary, the outsider? Maybe we all swing from the "not in my backyard" to the "welcome wagon" syndrome every day. For every trolling incident or harassment, there is a balance of "LFM" or guild recruitment ads that encourage all levels of players.

I guess I would like us all to be a little less Lord of the Flies and a bit more open to the quirkiness. I just want to scream from the cathedral tops and the heaps of pixelized ruins, YOU ARE ALL QUIRKY SH*T-HEADS PRETENDING TO BE ELVES AND ORCS! GET OVER YOURSELVES!

But alas, I fear no one would hear me. And then they would just start throwing poo.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Written and directed by...

As some of my close friends and family know, I went to get my squiggly-spooch out yesterday. It required an overnight in a hospital, and from what the surgeon told me, apparently, I have screenshots! Hey! Guess what? Not going to post them. (I haven't even gutted up enough to see them...get it?)

So while I'm sitting here in a tiny haze of Vicodin and ginger-ale, wanted to share a few things, and will try not to over-share. But writer friends, if you're looking for that screenplay idea, I may be able to help you out. As long as you get me a cut on international and domestic gross distribution, and cast me in a cameo role, we have a deal.

The hospital is very much a typical large not urban, not suburban, but that quasi-area where city meets burbs and there is still a lot of traffic. There were several very old, very sick people around me, and it made me sad that they were in pain quite often, and I could set my watch by when they needed more meds. I also learned I have tiny veins, and my own IV would shift at the slightest movement, thus setting off an alarm, and I would have to call in the nurse to turn it off. Apparently hitting it with clogs is not cool. (Not sure how that is going to appear on the bill.) The other thing I learned is at this hospital, they pipe in the Brahms' Lullaby rift every time a baby is born. My mother asked the poignant question what do they do if there is a sad mom/baby story, which unfortunately does happen, and then I could tell she regretted asking me, but only because I didn't have an answer, and she knows once I start thinking about something...well.. In any case, I counted ten new little souls in 24 hours. There may have been more when I was asleep. Quite a fertile little bunch, all in all. Being in a hospital is a lot like camping, at least for me. All I want to do is go home and take a shower.

But here is where the screenplay idea comes in: when I was deep in my anesthesia in the post-op room, I dreamed I was in a real-time Azerothian style battleground, and then I wanted a puppy, and then I saw the "Release Spirit" button, hesitated on hitting it, but did, and woke up. There you go. A virtual after-life experience. Yea yea, I know that plot has been done a thousand times before. "It was all a dream" is in the rankings of horrible endings.

Should have known it was just a dream: next time I go on a vision-quest, I demand...a puppy.

PS Did I mention the Vicodin?

Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Tenacious Tank...and a tired one

My vacation is starting here soon, this year a bit different, a change of pace...I really should be in bed asleep, but I'll have plenty of time for that.

Luperci takes off shoulder, shield, and mace...g'night, moon, g'night room, and g'night Lupe
Had a great time on a normal DS run with the new guild*. Decided since Luperci has been doing nothing much but banging her shield against her horns, she should try the big guild for a while, and see what opportunites await there.

I have so much to learn, re-learn, and alter for tanking. It's not hard, but when you make a mistake, it's really bad.

Ended the weekend with many smiles-- ah, what great friends I have. You make me laugh-- guess what? Out loud!

Here are some highlights:
Matty got to feed rats to panthers...

Ceniza realized the reason she was doing not so great was she forgot to equip her orb...dios mio, Ceniza....

Happy Summer!!

Momokawa, the Peachiest Peach River of Druids, admired the beautiful frescos in Tides, and reached level 83...

What a wonderful world.
Theme song: Put Your Records On/Corinne Bailey Rae

P.S. Señor: Zep is still the boss. Take care of the guild, and don't let your cat find the escrow papers.

*New guild is super cool-- never mind the publicity, so shout out to Lost Soldiers of Darkness!

Training raiders...WOOF! OUCH!!

Disclaimer: Tome, before you worry, don't make too many assumptions and watch the whole video.

Big Bruiser Bosses

I am excited that my new guild is putting together a Team 2 raiding team. The details are still being ironed out, and I see that creating a good balance of DPS, Tanks, and Healers takes careful planning. 

However, one area that is somewhat new to me is the guild forum thread. 

It's not that I am not familiar with blogs, wikis, forums, and other on-line forms of communications, but the guild forum thread must be its own animal. The lexicon of texting symbolism, iconography, is requiring a Rosetta Stone of runic translation tablets for me. 

In other words, what the heck is going on? What do you want me to do, and when and where do you want me to do it?

Am I on the team or not? I need graphs, charts, and data, people! Give me a good old-fashioned T-chart or other graphic organizer, and I'm good! I don't understand this altQQ @@ QQ! I am feeling like the ignorant end of a Navajo code talker right about now. I do understand the statement, " enhancement shaman is a rare find..." (paraphrasing) but am not sure if this enhancement shaman of mine is being slotted to a lower position to make room for the elemental shaman, or what? Are my 390+ geared alts worthy? Who knows?! QQ~!

But here is what I do know -- raiding is an interesting endeavor. It is better to learn from ground up with a group, lead by patience and tolerance, and it is never just one player who causes all the success or failures. Ever. This is a computer game, with coding, matrices, and rules, dammit, of 0100100s. But, there is what I call the "mojo factor," the "it" thing that cannot be described. Sometimes you can have all the buttons work, and everything gels. But it takes time and practice. Winning teams do not go out on the fields and win championships without a whole lot of drills, whistle-stops, push-ups, and whatnot. (Being more of a solo athlete, I get the concepts of team sports, and can slop out a sports analogy with the best of them. There is no "I" in metaphor.)

My rogue buddy told me yesterday the reason I was getting trips and blips was because I play on a Mac. He's probably right. He always is. Not much I can do about it. Not getting a PC. Never mind that many games are designed on Macs. I guess the analogy is just because the Maserati is built in a factory doesn't mean the factory workers are race-car drivers. Okay, not that great of an analogy but I'm tired people. Spent an hour trying to uncover the subtexts of guild forums. Cut me a break. 

I had a Great Dane once. She didn't bark, except at men, and especially men wearing hats, which was problematic living outside of Chicago when I was a kid. But I bet every raid leader would like one of these for the raid team members:

The dog owner uses the collar on himself first: his cross-eyed response when shocked is priceless. So raid leaders -- put the collar on first, Alpha, and lead the pack. 

Omega out.

Salty Sailors...

This is the sky this morning in my area:
Not bad, not bad --really nothing to complain about. Misty, chilly, great sleeping weather in fact. But often I find myself as restless as a fruitfly on a one-day shore leave, and my lifespan is 23 hours. Just have to get done what I can, and sleep can wait. No rolling over under warm covers today.

Ceniza is restless. Maybe a change of clothes...or weapon style...or another monster slain, or herb gathered will satisfy. And while trying to ignite the world with her power, she's feeling a bit fizzled out...she gets the fluff and tinder smoldering, it catches, and then the rains come, the oxygen diminishes, and her competitive nature to bring fire, to control it, is once again humbled, humiliated even, by more powerful forces who remind her, again, like a lesson she cannot learn, that she is merely a catalyst, the stick and not the spark, she made nothing, created nothing. Only the gods are allowed to dance with fire--she is here by invitation only. She bested a hunter with her abilities yesterday, but not the rogue. Never the damn rogue.The rogue with the amazing daggers and skills--he also reminded her of her place. She blinked into walls, and he noticed and laughed at her clumsiness. Mages are tricksters, fire mages especially, but they are also prideful. Tease them enough and at some point, you might get burned. She knew he meant no harm, it was her ego that was weakened and bruised. Not his fault.

She would never be great, only good. Only good enough. She wondered why did these over-powered fighters ask for her company? It certainly wasn't for the challenge, for they bested her every time. She didn't know, and tried not to care--if she wanted to be powerful, she supposed she could, if that were her only focus, and all else fell away. Antiguo Amor looked up at her, and tried to get her to smile by blowing smoke rings and jumping through them. He created his own entertainment. Shouldn't she do the same?

Ah, the ships of the shores of Ashenvale. The lavender sky embraced the indigo treeline, transparent periwinkle stars freckled the universe with wine kisses. Ceniza stood on the prow and waited for it to set sail with unusual patience for her. The moment of serenity passed, and off she went. This ship was going nowhere.

When the tasks were done, the goals met, she put on her finest robes and went to Booty Bay. Ah, it is so beautiful here...the temperature a perfect 24 C/75F, winds from the North to balance the humidity, and the goblins were friendly. They looked at her admiringly, appreciatively, and unlike the citizens of Stormwind, respectfully. She could be so stupid sometimes--what was keeping her from living here? She could go anywhere in the world in her portals, and if she made this her home, her hearth, she could come here anytime. The innkeeper took her reservation with a minimal amount of gruff, she drank a bottle of junglewine, and went straight to bed. If you want to find her, look for her in the Salty Sailor Tavern, just under the gryphon master, next to a large hanging shark in Booty Bay.

We nest where we can.

Most of you have turned off the soundtrack of Azeroth eons ago. You need your focus for Vent or Mumble instructions and conversations. A few weeks ago I purchased the soundtracks because I still love the music in Azeroth--there are riffs that break my heart, ones that make me nostalgic, and ones that make me want to dance.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Tome & Matty's Excellent Adventure: Way Out in Outlands Winner!

We might say this beautiful Tauren is winner by default
Because no one else had the time or thought
To travel around Outlands in riding togs
Over hill and dale, and quite a few bogs
The only submission to our contest beats all
We love you, Navi, and hope you had a ball!

Once again, I feel I am the true winner--watch Navi's entry in the T&M Excellent Adventure, Way Out in Outlands:

Navi, your prize has to wait till payday. That's how I roll in the Matty-shack.

Next up (not for a while*):

Eastside, Yo!
True North Northrend
El Kalimdorado

Next rounds will have fewer stops, clearer clues (my bad), and I'll post all clues at once.

*Going to be out of commission for about a week. Getting a tune-up and my carburetor repaired.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Lay me down.

Room for one, please...
Disclaimer and Dedication: This post is dedicated to all the Role-Playing Romantics out there, the legions of women (including my Snakes & Tea friend) who have been telling me to read Fifty Shades of Grey (now available at my local grocery store--as IF I'm going to buy that in the produce section!), and to the good people of Blizzard who want their players to be well-rested--remember, this is a fantasy game, after all...

...and it's the Summer Solstice, there is plenty of sunshine in the Northern Hemisphere, and the time to run around with green-eyed girls, smile a little bit more, refreshed, and relaxed is kick off your flip-flops, dig your toes in the sand, and dream of wonderful places to sleep...

There are a few places in Azeroth that beckon one to sleep -- while doing archeology, Matty enjoys Dreamers' Rest, while others may prefer the more luxurious, but slightly tainted, accommodations of Karazhan:

(Erinys, I couldn't find my own screenshot - if you want me to take this off, I understand...that roll of film got messed up in the x-ray machine...)
Erinys' Screenshot of the beautiful boudoir of Karazhan...

Once you clean off the dead bodies and get the slumpy, slurpy thingies out, you'll find the chocolate on your pillow. Charming. (It looked like chocolate, anyway...)

But Haanta especially was wondering what might happen in Grand Warlock Alythess's chambers:

Okay, I get the big bed, but the little matching chaise lounges? What the?! And for the record, I think the Grand Warlock is one of the most beautiful creations in the game. She looks Draenei, and amazing, and wonderful. More, please!

Most of my favorite resting spots are the campsites and waterfalls in the jungles of the south--oh, to find an abandoned hammock and nap a summer afternoon away!

Of course I can't let any of you rest - yes, Road Rally, yes, DK story, yes yes yes -- and here is one more:

What jammies would you Mog for your sleep-overs?
Luperci sleeps with a shield under her pillow....

Ah...the exquisite nap.

Theme Song: Dirty Heads/Lay Me Down


Oh--if only.

If only.

I am contemplating intentions this morning, mine and others'. Good. Bad. Unsure. But intentions of all kinds.

Here was my intent: To go into LFR and maybe win a good trinket for my shaman. She's still sporting the acorn of agility, and while suffice it to say squirrels and their nuts are extremely agile, and it's served her well, perhaps with a new one her dps would be a big more tight.

Going back to first person -- I won two. I was with a guildmate, and just wanted to roll on whatever he might need, too, and won two trinkets. One I had, one I didn't, the Starcatcher, which -- and this is an important detail--really is for hunters in my opinion, with its haste and all-- but was happy enough.

However, I forgot to pack my shit-storm shield from the flying barrage of harassment and FUs from other hunters in the group who wanted this trinket. I was called horrible, horrible names, greedy, and more.

Here are my choices:
1. Put them all on ignore (Guarf's post-LFR suggestion, which I didn't consider during the heat and anger of the moment--more on this;
2. Tell them to go effthemselves and ride off into the merry sunset, all trinkets, all things.
3. Wish I was a disenchanter and do what other players do, and say meanly, "I'm going to disenchant this all right in front of you all and laugh."
4. Realize that this player, Bigstash, had his (or her) own issues:
The level of nerd-rage, hate, anger, and sheer player frustration on the part of this player melted me --and here is what I am not sure of--did I give into a bully, or did I take the high road? Did I turn the other pixelated cheek in kindness and empathy, or did I just get run over by a virtual steamroller?

It reminds me of third grade, and Joe ZXXXX. Yes, you Joe ZXXXX. I had a huge crush on you, and you decided to honor my 8-year-old heart by punching me in the stomach. But here is what I know about you, Joe--you are probably still very, very short. Your whole family was short. And you have a big nose. I am imagining this because third grade is pretty much where I left our villain, Joe, behind. I have no way of knowing, and no, don't look him up on Facebook. I don't give a sh8t.

To Bigstash: I get you. I really do. I understand when you're playing, life isn't going well, and you keep hitting your head on the concrete again and again and the big bossy bitches of life keep slamming you back down. Dear readers, you can call what I did a great moment of weakness or strength, but I gave Bigstash the trinket. It truly--truly--meant beyond the scope of reason to him--and that's that.

Zep looks at the big picture...

In my real life, I am not getting something I desperately need right now. Not want. Need. I too have been hitting my head on the concrete repeatedly, thinking it's going to get better, and yet, every turn of the cycle I find myself crying, angry, hurt, and diminished. But I pull my head out, look around, and say to myself, "Hey--I still have this, and that, and the other thing going for me. I got this." And I am stronger and better for it.

But---hear this clearly, "desperately need" is all a matter of perspective. It's not a kidney, or a bone-marrow transplant, or a the best cheeseburger in the world. It's just a thing, nothing else. And I will not only "make do," but make it rock.

I, too, have mentioned Gladwell's 10,000 hours on this blog, like Cynwise (somewhere on here...) and I am going to remind myself again that I am an expert at what I do in the real world. I really am.
Just play. Just. Play.

Sad to say, I am not naive enough to think that I "saved" the Bigstashes of the world. They may be used to punching and yelling through life, and "win" by their harassment. But I walked away with a huge epiphany--one about the true nature of bullying, and that it is far more complicated and simple that perhaps we understand--we are all trying to seek control, some facsimile of our happy lives. If that Starcatcher ups his DPS by even a few points, and makes the time he spends in Azeroth just a tiny bit more relaxing, that he doesn't have to prove anything, then it was worth it to me. Whether or not he gets the lesson is up to his karmic journey, not mine. My path is clear.

Postscript: I really, really like my new guild. They are fun, sweet, and for Azeroth, what I need right now. Trying not to let them down, and appreciate their patience as they get to know me, and I them. It's all good, and I will gladly go into any situation and get what they need, too.

Ceniza is working hard at getting Nozdormu's it, girl!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

More awesomesauce for the day...

Just gotta show this off, too:Vidyala's watercolor of Mataoka:
Hot Pants!

Need a hand? or Sisterhood of the Magical Elf Pants

Get it? A hand?! Isn't that a cool off-hand weapon? Off-hand! Oh I just got that!

Another stuffed-up day in Matty's REAL LIFE WORLD EXTRAVAGANZA!!!


No, really - it was full of some Machiavellian-level maneuverings and the Spider whispers. I could go on, but man is this story old. But I had to ask a very dear colleague to talk me down from that tree yesterday, and in emails and a phone call or two, she did, lots of all-caps, DON'T QUIT kind of stuff. I know from my new boss's perspective she solved the issue, and I tried one last attempt this morning to state my case, but am pretty sure it won't do me any good (though for the record it's not for 'my' good, but the good of what larger-picture kind of thing, but lately, no one considers the human factor anymore, it's all part of the machine. Machine must be fed.)

Okay - anyway. There is hope. There is always hope.

My new guild did indeed bench me for a player who came back from vacation, but asked if I could be there on Sundays to begin to work with and gel with the second ten-man team. Sure. I only asked that the RL let me know that I wasn't going, because I was waiting for 40 minutes on stand-by seeing if I was going to raid last night. He said he would, and then I noticed everyone was there, and he hadn't confirmed.


Asked him if this other player was there and he was so I said thanks, and then logged off for Zep. This parallels to my new boss not knowing my name, my seniority, or my expertise fully, and is quite discouraging. I have to be the understanding one.

Got pants?
So, onward. Ever onward. Tried to do a dungeon but it was dumb. Then, saw that BH was opening up, so what the heck? Took awhile to scramble the players, and we wiped once (it was silly, but no biggie) and then went once more. Flawless. Hey, look at that! Cloth 397 pants! One person rolled - 2: me: 20-something. Another: 60s. Damn. Big frowny-face poop.

And then one player said to the one who won them - "Hey, you rolled twice, not cool!" 

Long story short, they grabbed me back with whispers, the player who rolled twice apologized, and gave me the PANTS!!! But the funny part was I was on the phone with my friend while she was talking me down from said tree, alternately crying, raging, and mumbling, and then when the whole pants thing happened, I told her, (she knows and understands my Azerothian avocation), and we laughed our heads off. Too damn funny! I explained how only one poor elf had to die, but these were magical elf pants! She suggested I make a miniature pair of these magical elf pants and put them as a ward or totem of sorts in my new (old) space -what a great idea! Our new motto is going to be "I Have Elf Pants." 

Believe me, she and I are at the point of not being ashamed of putting magical supernatural aid tokens around our work environment. 

This image is here because I just like Dawnbeard's style.  That is all.
See? There are stories of players being cool and polite--good karma all 'round!!

But the other cool thing was a buddy as me to run on Zep in Naxxramas and I got that crazy hand off-hand thing. Nothing like a "handbag" to keep my stuff in! Get it?! Okay, I'll hand over the puns now. 

Finally, third and magical charm: Lots of /hugs from player friends, and could sleep in peace. 

And I got pants.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

RTMT: Volatile Mutation

Today's Random Tuesday Morning Thought is brought to you courtesy of Insomniacs, Anonymous: for when you can't stay asleep, and mutterings in public forums seem like the right thing to do. 

Ah, stress. The stress associated with the unknown (and it's all unknown, baby), the stress of half-done jobs and projects. For anyone who has ever had to move offices, you know what I am feeling. I have to move my work stuff again. I have a lot of work stuff. Guarf knows. I sent him a picture last year. I am not sure where my stuff is going exactly, because my "new" place is much smaller than my last, but I don't want to be where I am currently right now. This is going to be the most ridiculous, superstitious thing I may have ever written or thought, but my current place has sad memories, and I need to get back to the start, emotionally, physically, and intellectually. I put these same sentiments on Tree Heal's current post, which is a good read for any of you who have ever raided, or are thinking about it.

So, while I'm waiting to get going, I was aimlessly wandering around the netty-web, and thought, "Hrm, wonder how I can get that First Mate's hat?" and found some interesting things, including where to get that rare parrot thingy, too. More this, more than, and then saw over at Cymre a question about rare things we want but can't have. 

What do I want? Got most of it. But right now I really want a new mattress, but since I am a cash-and-carry kind of gal, that ain't going to be happening any time soon (sad unhappy whiney frowny face). It always seems that in the grand scheme of planned obsolescence, everything goes at once. The mattress. The washer. Dryer. Cars. Trucks. Body parts. /cough

I was thinking about my best friend from middle school the other day, in fact, I think of her every day. I need to email/call her, but need to find a time when I can cry, because I know when I call her, I will (need to tell her about some things). She is the one who always was quick to remind me of every little thing I have ever done, every misstep, mistake, bad boyfriend, stupid cats, time when this and time when that. Sometimes I have avoided talking to her because of her focusing too much on my quirks and not enough on "you are a wonderful and beautiful friend-ness." And though she has never once told me I am beautiful, have great skin, or look stylish in my hand-painted clogs, she has told me she loves me, and I love her, too. She lost her father last year, and we spent hours on the phone crying, and I listened. If I called her and said, I need to cry now, she would be quiet, and listen. The cliche of life is too short over petty bullshit is true, true, true. If you are lucky enough to have a friend, one friend, consider the friend you are, too. What do you really want? If you have one true friend, and you are equally respectful and loving, you have all you need, or could ever want.

Now to go see if I can get that First Mate hat for my friend (and I enjoy my title of Queen of Dorks, by the way.)

Tome & Matty's Excellent Adventure: The Link Love Edition

Stupid 5AM--anyway, before I hit the snooze alarm, just wanted to link you to Tome's Clues concerning the Road Rally, and the MMO Melting Pot's mention of our little diversion, too!

Theme song: Drive My Car/Beatles

Remember, at the heart and soul of our intent is to share a story or two--well, that's always the case.

Monday, June 18, 2012


Yes, that is a wine opener, and candle, peanut butter, and tomatoes you see. 

Why is there a picture of Jo Malone perfume on this silly blog? It is purely for me. I am in the up-to-my-elbow purge right now of clittery-cluttery junk. I have too much stuff. This perfume, a tangy, tart blend of tangerine and peach, was purchased for me, in real time, by my mother in a posh store, a Neiman-Marcus in fact, years ago, approximately five years ago. It is barely used. Why? Because when I was trying them on, I tried this one and a more orange-y one, my mom and sister liked this one more, so home it went. It stinks, though. It has an acridity that punches my nostrils. The orange and honey-blossom one would have been much better. Alas, I have had birthday gift buyer's remorse hence, and when considering each and every object in my shack, I answered some hard questions about each thing that I am tossing. Into the garbage it went.

The likelihood of my going back to Neiman-Marcus and getting the other scent is damn near zero. I'm not driving my beat-up truck into the valet parking of this fancy-schmancy shopping mall, trying to explain to the attendant how to twist the broken headlight knob just so, or why it "smells this way" (a heady mixture of spilt coffee, books, picante sauce packets, and Northwestern rain boots). Now, perhaps, someday I'll stride into N-M, head held high, and say, "Good lady, purveyor of over-priced astringent and matching couple submarines, tally up a bottle of your finest Jo Malone stinky spray, toute suite!"


Stay with me.

While we're all making decisions about what to keep and what to let go, I appreciate Bear's credo on a "no asshat policy." I wish getting rid of the Punks and Trolls of Azeroth were as easy as tossing a stinky bottle of tangerine and peach overtone toilet water. (Didn't that make you giggle when you were kid? Toilet water? Because although it's fancy French "toilette," meaning, "getting dressed," it's still toilet water!?)

Given the choices between kicking, ignoring, or deserter timers, there needs to be the "Asshat Option." A button we can push when this current mix is just not what we want. I have called for many times for the partner-quests, the trio quests, the things we can do that do not require five people, five strangers, to be forced into a situation. It's like being trapped in an elevator with someone who just ate a Taco Bell full-meal deal, a collicky baby, and a lynx with a bad attitude. Not fun. That is an emergency situation, a crisis, it's trauma, and to seek it out, hell, seek it out?! Pay $15 a month for this experience?! No-- please. These adreneline-inducing-fight-or-flight lizard brain screaming experiences, well--they stink.

Blizzard: Consider, please providing a valor point and justice point scale for trio or partner work. Please consider giving mass ressurection and summoning for all guilds. Please consider mini-raids for those of us who also try to meet other responsibilities (I still feel guilty and the worry that my new guild are going to reject me--players are back from vacation, and I'm sure I'm about to be benched--it feels like I'm about to get sacked.)

Quit locking me in that elevator with the lynx. He smells like peaches and despair.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

On target....

Señor inspired me to get Haanta out of hiding, and that little hunter girl has been having fun. Before making dinner, and not being able to go to Firelands due to previous obligations, took a few minutes and ran through Sunwell, and she picked up this:

Man-oh-man, those runs are fun.

Now--I want to find a First Mate's Hat - does anyone know where I can get one?

(psst....little help?)

Once upon a time...

Movella is having a WoW fanfiction writing competition (I think Navi turned my horns in this direction), and I need your advice - if you have a favorite little story or drabble you think should be turned into a story, would you let me know? The deadline is July 7, and I'm going to be out of commission here and there these next two weeks, and wanted to use something I've started instead of from scratch.

Some of my favorites:

Blackberry Winter
Pyramond & Theleste

The Death Knight

This isn't a poll, just--request for guidance.

Roadblocks removed: Tome and Matty's Excellent Adventure -- All Clues!

Pink fuzzy dice beaten off a 

Due to unforeseen highway construction projects, the Tome & Matty's Excellent Adventure has been extended, and here are the final clues, rules, etc.:

Round I: Way-Out in Outlands...

The Rules:

1. Read the blog for clues. New clues will be posted with the regularity and frequency as time allows, but I do have a deadline, and that is June 17th. Unexpected construction! Deadline has been extended to June 24.There will be fabulous prizes! Yes, yes a pony! The clues will be posted with plenty of time to try, so don't freak out. I am going to ask Tome if she could host the winners, results on her blog that week, as I will be under construction myself. No, not plastic surgery. Although....

2. Try to find the secret locations: this round will have eight, and in Outlands. You will need an add-on that shows the coordinates, and screenshots should include this information. When you submit your screenshot, also please add the details of your find, the coordinates, and anything interesting that happened along the way.

3. You must, absolutely, must go on a land mount only. If you cheat, we have no way of knowing. But you will know, and the RNGs will know, and bring shame upon your family. Just sayin'.

4. This is important: Do not, please, do not submit anything to my or Tome's blogs. Only submit your screenshot and verification of the spot to our contest email:

Note: This is a road rally, with timers, and such--it has a winner in time, so in your screenshot and message, put the a time stamp on it. If you have already submitted your entries, those who submitted first-come, first-served is the order. Don't hate, just have fun.

First Clue:

In the forest of Terokkar
Staring eyes haunt you
Chilling and cold
and though you may have traveled from afar
be brave when crossing
this terrifying threshold

...these are no ordinary lepidoteras
their pixie dust is fatal
but for Outland quests, this is a beginning
where the journey is in its cradle

Second Clue:

Rock of Ages isn't just a movie
This is where you go when things are not groovy
Seek out this place, and you will get tired
Sit and stay awhile, what's your hurry?

Third Clue:

If you eat these shrooms you will see double
And watch your step, there is bound to be trouble
Just there, in that knoll...
Watch out, there may be a troll

Fourth Clue:

The inhabitants here seem nonchalant
and even, perhaps, a bit gallant
But in their pool you try to fish
You will quickly soon wish
That you were somewhere else
Perhaps Vermont?

Fifth Clue:

There are trinkets and talisman
Sold from this gent
He will offer you protection 
Drop our names and tell him
it was us who you we sent
(but don't expect a discount, he hasn't that level of dedication)

Sixth Clue:

You can stand before this fearsome mother
If you get over your phobias and fears
There are many who can't be tamed
but if you treat her gently, hunters,
This one can be claimed

Seventh Clue:

The children of Azeroth need care
See if you can help this one
Lost in the ravages of war

Eighth and Final Clue:

There is a long tunnel
Similar to life
It twists, turns and pours us through a funnel
Full of joy and strife
What will you bring with you?
And what will you leave behind?
Let us know your story
(and don't leave out parts that are gory!)

(Seriously --watch and dance)

The prize:
Winner will receive an e-bay gift certificate for $50 to go toward a TCG mount or a Heart of the Aspect Mount

Theme Song: Route 66

*Thanks to Tome for creating that great image!
AND -lest I forget (it was early when I wrote this) Tome did all the heavy lifting to find Outland spots!