Are you there, RNG? It's me, Ceniza...

Ceniza researches. Heavens, does that girl research. That is the nature of mages. Can't help themselves: style manuals, index cards, cross-references and footnotes, poor things. It's all about the source materials. As she's looking for Arcane tomes around Dalaran, she came across this: So You Think You Can Cast: Frequently Asked Questions from First-Time Mages (author unknown, but by the pedantic tone, probably Jaina....)

 Ceniza, sorry to disappoint you, but this book lies. It is all about the damage. Maybe that career in hunting is not such a bad idea...

As luck would have it...

I have a lot to say about the nature of 'luck.' But not right now. I want to show off my ponies. One job that I've always coveted is that of "lipstick and fingernail polish namer." So, since I don't have that job, I can do the next best thing.

Luck of the Warlock! The last one hatched!

Ceniza has been very lucky with her Primal Raptor Eggs in LFR. She "allowed" the warlock to test drive them this morning (not that Azratrax the Voidwalker didn't take her keys or anything...oh no...)

"Bodacious Black"

"Giddy-up Green"

and last but not least, "Don't Stand in the Fire Red!"

Wish for next patch: Being able to name our mounts.


Theme song: Junior Brown/Highway Patrol

Repurposed

I need to make this a Blog Azeroth topic, methinks.

Part I:

What junk items in game need to be repurposed for actual use?

This question was inspired by poop.

The bats who try to protect Tortos drop this. Lots and lots of this. "Guano," for the uninitiated, may sound like a laundry soap (Use Tough-Action Guano today!) or a medical condition (damn, my guano is acting up again today!), but no, it's bat poop. It does have many uses: fertilizer, and well, um, fertilizer. Cross-Dressing Rogue gave me the great idea, however, that it should be used in cooking recipes! Yes! Twenty stacks of bat guano to make Bat-Shit Crazy Cupcakes! They provide a 20-minute psychotic buff that creates berserk-like fighting, and you spout nonsensical political rhetoric to confuse your opponents. CD Rogue unkindly said they should turn one into Michelle Bachman, but I thought that wasn't fair.

So, what other junk items should be re-purposed to make wonderful buffs and spells?

Part II: Get a job, sir

If Azeroth ever virtually retires, or the races in the game need a career change, what would you see them doing?

This question was inspired by a conversation with a dear colleague yesterday morning. I was telling her that every time I call my mom, I cry. I cry because my mom always says THE ONE THING that I am feeling insecure about, worried about, or otherwise am trying to deal with, and unsuccessfully. Yesterday it was that greatest of all taboos: money. I told my friend I wish I could call on some of my Dwarf buddies in Azeroth (they love me there) to lend a hand with some gold. Man, if only. Then that sparked a thought about all the things I could see Azerothians doing way better than we limited humans.

Night Elf: please, please: massage therapists.

Goblins: everything from accountants to home repair. Whatever it takes. Just make sure they're bonded first.

Naughty children? Call a Stormwind guard. Bad drivers? Send them to Flight School with a Dwarf trainer. Milk delivery? Forsaken watchers - they're up then anyway.

I thought of so many in the wee hour of the morning when I think of these things but then need to try to snatch some sleep. OH! Insomnia? Go see a warlock or druid, of course, to put you right to sleep. (Caution: may be forever.)

If only.

The Return of the Awesomesauce

Valor Points dropping like piñata candy. Pet battles of epic proportions. Loot drops for your main spec?  Just click on your portrait, yo! Patch 5.3 may have gotten it right.

But-- the clicking on portrait thing....well...this will teach me to do real life things and not read patch notes. I had heard that one can choose the potential gear drops for any spec. I assumed (and we ALL KNOW what happens when we assume, right?) that this magical spec choice would be a new UI thing, and schwing! The loot choice would just appear to me! What? No? It didn't? Try a coin, see what happens...maybe the choice happens then? No?

Time to actually read how this works:

Dammit.

Tome posted some blog links, and you know how I am...if it's blogged, I must link it. Check out her comprehensive additions here. It's okay Tome, I know I've let you down. Mrs. Whitworth is squashed under a pile of real life responsibilities right now, having the time of her life, while I drudge forward another day. No writing time at work, no writing time in the morning, and only enough time to play a bit and spend time with CD Rogue before he leaves me for Sandra Bullock. (Yes, she's the one. Her, and Anne Hathaway. Ugh.) It's *sniff* okay, Tome, that you read *sniff sniff wipe boogers* others blogs.

My Internet was down this morning, so I---unloaded the dishwasher. Did my familial duties. And am waiting to go to work. My time is more chopped up than a Cuisinart with a paper cut. Even today I have something to do, somewhere to be, from 6:45 am to 8:45 pm. But maybe...maybe I can go sneak in a fishing daily now...

...see you soon...

RTMT: Life and Death in Azeroth

A few summers ago, the Matty-shack inhabitants hosted an exchange student from France. He was a remarkable guest, and showing off the wonders and sights of the Northwest rekindled my own awe of this area. Nothing like playing tourist in your own backyard to see it through fresh eyes. His English was exceptional, and would punctuate many thoughts or expressions with the word, "perfect." In his wonderful accent, it would come out "purr-feckt" and I can still hear it in my mind. 

There are many folks we meet along the way who deserve the title "Awesomesauce." Our virtual bannermen who carry our sigils with honor. Many players who are kind, throw down those healthstones or mage tables, and toss out feasts like Skittles. Many who answer a question with thoughtfulness and concern, and we must include certainly the realm of bloggers, our own Writers' Guild of Renown. They are truly "purrfeckt."

But this post isn't about them. This is about the perfectionists. Perfectionists are annoying. They freeze up when faced with decision making, and are striving for unobtainable, and unnecessary, goals.

Every time I encounter a perfectionist like the DK Juggerballs, I think of one of my favorite Tom Robbins' quotes, about the performance levels of Cheerios:

…they leave the reader puzzling over exactly what might be meant by the “performance” of the Cheerios. 

Could the Cheerios be in bad voice? Might they not handle well on curves? Do they ejaculate too quickly? Has age affected their timing or are they merely in a mid-season slump? Afflicted with nervous exhaustion or broken hearts, are the Cheerios smiling bravely, insisting that the show must go on? 

… do Cheerios measure up to Wheaties with beer, would they mix well with batshit in times of strife, would Ed Sullivan have signed them, would Knute Rockne have recruited them, how well do these little motherfuckers perform?

From Tom Robbins' Still Life With Woodpecker

Players' over-aggrandized expectations are a buzzkill. Don't misunderstand me: I am not putting the heavy-hitters, or the true elites in this category. The players who have made a near career over getting to the highest achievements of raiding and mechanics, but maintain overarching understanding roles of exceptional leadership and team organizational and psychological nuances. I would put Matticus in this class. No, I'm talking about the small-minded souls who expect, nay demand, perfection from every one around them. They have no sense of humor, social context, or patience for any one other than themselves.

But I got news for most folks: you ain't no Matticus. And neither am I. We are Cheerios.

There are few situations that are truly life-or-death. Surgery, trauma, rescue crews, rocket ship engineers, generals, peanut allergies, or not putting the toilet seat down. And again, I'm not talking about the far end of the spectrum: the highest ends of performance to the lowest, trolling, LFR AFK nitwits. The middle-of-the-road. The mediocre. The average. There is a sweet spot where the Cheerios do what they are intended to do, where form meets function. To expect any more is futile. So unless you are in charge of saving lives or launching moon missions, I suggest you start bringing some fun to the game. 

Theme Song: Awkward/San Cisco

Always two sides to every story. Maybe DK Juggerballs is just that awesome. What do I know?

When you assume...

...you make an asshat out of you and me.

This is a picture of my eye in full stage make-up. It was 'fake an injury' day at work (why, why would anyone do this, you may wonder...I don't have a good answer...) It is incredibly realistic. Many of my colleagues, from a distance, thought I got in a fight with the road, or worse, that CD Rogue had used me for a punching bag. (That would be the last thing he would ever do, up to the moment he would lose his mortal coil.) This was really stupid on my part, because many in my world have experienced real traumatic experiences, and this upset them. I told them I fell off my dragon, or unicorn, whatever I felt like, the story growing more outrageous and fantastic at each telling. "You should have seen the other orc!"

The other night, I dragged my poor shaman out of the cupboard to see if, by chance, just a whim, slim at best, I could get another ax or fist weapon for the best specialization of all, ever: the enhancement shaman. My DPS/Damage was sub-par compared to everyone else, and we hit the enrage timer on the twins. (Footnote: I like those twins. I do. When the blue one says, "Are they gone?" my heart melts. I know there was a fuss and all, but...) The blame started pouring out like Ragnaro's fire. I apologized for my DPS, but that I had been unlucky when it came to weapons, and was still using a blue. A little warlock spoke up and said his luck as been equally poor. The DK tank, Juggleballs or Judgeyournutz or something, said "Then you should play better."

Yes, I guess he's right. I should play better.

I should play better by going to play with my stories. I should play with my weeds. I should go play with scrubbing a few toilets around the Matty-shack, cause heaven knows they need it. I should play better and prepare more entertaining and engaging things for my job. I should play better at a whole lot of things. I should play at going for a walk or doing yoga or trying to learn how to make tamales.

Anyway, I am looking forward to 5.3. Big time. Neri Approves posted this link and sometime today I'll read a few more patch notes. I love the fact that I heard I can queue as a healer but choose to get enhancement weapons. But before I get too excited, I am not going to assume too much. Let's hope that all the hype is true, and no one ends up with a black eye. Except that orc. He had it comin'.

Mr. Snerggulls Returns

"Sweetheart, I got some bad news for ya. Ya see, it's like this: your writing, it ain't fresh no more. Smelling worse than a 3-day old dead big-mouth clam, washed up under a troll's butt, on a hot summer day. With a side of pickles. Okay, okay...you get what I mean. Not sure what you think you were doing, there, goatchop, but we gotta get a few things straight, capiche? Do you realize you have used the term "bean counters" about 1,345 times? It's old news, sweettail. And this so-called news about kissing and pets? We ain't running a social rag here you know, this ain't no Stormwind & the Manor. Have you seen the latest numbers? Tome writes about her adventures in PVP and gets about 35,678 comments!"

The shaman started to get glassy-eyed. "But Mr. Snerguls, sir, she's the IRONSALLY! She's awesome! She's kind, funny, and self-effacing, and and and IRONSALLY! I couldn't even get past level 9...And I love reading her, too -- everyone does!"

"That's my point, hornhead! Folks dug this little gazette, too, but lately--well, our numbers have significantly dropped. This ain't no non-profit, moonbeam. I've got 12,345 spawn to feed. You're no Terry Gross or Ira Glass. Folks ain't lining up to read, and you ain't getting paid by the character count."

Mataoka thought this would not be a good time to mention she wasn't getting paid at all...

"So, let's take a look: you're splitting infinitives, transitions are tiresome, syntax is superfluous, raconteur redundant, your spell check is broken, and grammar nonexistent, and I think you lost your Azerothian Aegis Style Manual, 33rd Edition, didn't you?"

"I accidentally deleted it from my bank, sir. When I was finding room for my..."

"Kid, you got no style. If I don't see some fresh ink soon, well, the only words you'll be producing will be 'you're fired' on a pink slip."

Mataoka wiped her eyes. She knew it was the truth. No murloc news is good murloc news. She wish Mr. Snerggullls had stayed on vacation with the goblins. He came back smelling of fish stew and cigar ash. Not pleasant.

"Look, happyhorns, I don't want to let you go. Come back in a few hours with some ideas, all right, totemcheeks? I'll be down at the pub pumping down a few fortifiers, if you catch my drift there."

Mataoka put a request up in trade chat: WTB Muse.

No response yet, but queue times vary.

Got Happy?

First: I hate to keep meme'ing (is that a verb?!) [potential] historical inaccuracies. I'll justify it this time though by saying, even if Benjamin Franklin didn't say it, it's still a cool quote. It's cool, not because of any political agendas, but in spite of them:

Watch the 2011 documentary, Happy

If Blizzard was writing this, perhaps it should read:

"The game rules only guarantee the citizens of Horde and Alliance the right to pursue levels; you have to get the RNG gods to drop items in groups."

Wait, no-- how about:

"Blizzard only guarantees the Horde and Alliance to pursue gear level. You have to do the quest line yourself."

Okay, I give up. It's early. But you get the point. The RNGs guarantee nothing.

Been thinking a lot about what makes me happy, or unhappy, lately. Happy is such an ubitquitious, yet elusive, state of being. Happy, you kind of suck sometimes.

Next, find a comfortable 45 minutes and watch the documentary. It's worth it. Parts of it will make you uncomfortable, so be warned. Parts will make you cry, so be warned. If you don't have time, I'll cut to the big themes:

1. Family and friends are our worlds; when we get lost in creating material worlds only, we are lost souls (watch story on Karōshi (過労死^?)
2. Self-actualization, or the quiet moments of inner peace come in surprising ways--be open to them, even if your sister-in-law runs over your head. (No spoilers -- promise.)
3. Since we all can't live in Denmark or the bayous of Louisiana and eat crab and crawdads all day (oh man would I fit in there!) consider your own little patch of earth and see the joy. It's there, I promise.

Here's the deal. Straight up. Blunt.

I love playing WoW. I am nostalgic already, after only three years of play, though. It is my humble shaman opinion that unless Blizzard does take a open, honest look at the grinding, they are going to kill that joy. That's it.

If you watch the documentary, there's a lot of talk about dopamine levels. Dopamine levels are our happy buttons. They are killed with desperate repetition. Excerise and creative pursuits keep them pumping. Speaking for myself, I found my Azerothian dopamine levels were at their highest when I was doing a progressive achievement task, such as What a Long Strange Trip. I was also happiest when I had my first character, and then discovered a new class. I did not like the same repeated queats. I loved when pets and mounts became account-bound, and love walking into old instances to goof around, and feel like a bad-ass for a few minutes. I love the small amount of RP I've done--it's creative and engaging. I love when I've been on a raid team, even for short times, with funny people who made me laugh. I love my few close friends in Azeroth, that we get each other and I don't have to justify a damn thing to them.

More legendary fun, more solo, two, and three person achievements (not just for ponies, but achievements--a common bond, a goal, a STORY). Every time I read Navi's posts on raiding, the subtext is always the same: she is hanging with people she loves, and who love and depend on her --sure the gear is nice, but that is always secondary. Always. She's sitting at a large picnic table picking freshly caught seafood. When Tome writes about her solo adventures, she's writing about exploration, and making the game her own. She's catching happiness. When Bear writes about Cub, he's writing about family connections and insights that this journey. Even Navi, Kallixta, and I had raised our dopamine levels to the roof when we wrote our fables. (We have more in store, by the way....)


Oh, the blunt part, that's why you're still reading? Not the love fest? Okay. Here it goes.

For every time a bean counting, trolling game design mechanic or "what can I MAKE them do" enters into the equation, I feel a game karoshi moment.

Blizzard: knock it off.

Less karoshi.

More dopamine.

Within reason. Wouldn't want to become an addict, yo?

Theme song: Imagine Dragons

Bellyrub Buff

This cheers me: if you don't have one already, start a male Pandaren. Do a /kiss. Listen. It's slobbery, full-bore, all-the-way adorable and kind of messy.

If it doesn't make you feel like this:

From the Australia Facebook Page...

then, seriously -

there's no help for you.

PS Full report on all the /kisses soon.

three

1. I wish I could stay home and write today
2. I wish I could finally get my house in order
3. I wish it was payday



P.S. I wish I knew what the hell I was doing in the Throne of Thunder things. Nerd rage before 6:30AM is not a great way to start the day.