Angela B. Macala-Guajardo's Blog, page 2

Wedding Plans: Angie & Simon Style

I guess you could say we’re an atypical couple; however, with my severe sheltered-ness, my concept of typical might be outdated. Weddings are these huge to-dos, where two entire families gather, along with close friends, stuff themselves inside a church and get all weepy-eyed, maybe even a twinge of envy, as they celebrate the joining of two people. There are lots of queazy stomachs, fragile nerves, bored children, screaming children, and a pastor who hopes he doesn’t get the names wrong at that critical moment. Once the organ blasts the first notes, a pair of double doors open and it’s all eyes on the bride.

Oh, dear god, please no! *cue the sound of a record screeching to silence*

Ever since Simon and I have started talking spending the rest of our lives together–well, in earnest (we talked lifelong plans as far back as last summer and often reminded ourselves we weren’t even dating)–how to handle the wedding has been niggling at us. I’ve been to a whole two weddings in my childhood, both of which are a vague collection of memories, one of them including people speaking Polish in front of the church. The rest of my wedding samplings have come from movies, television, and family albums. Movies and television are somewhat disjointed from reality, sooooo I don’t have much to go on. And then shows like Bridezillas make me stare in mute horror at the screen. Thankfully I’m in no danger of becoming that. So. Let’s keep this simple.

After a bit of a sage advice passed to me through Facebook, I talked to both of my parents, asking them how they envisioned me getting married. They both said it was up to Simon and I. Dad would happily walk me down the aisle, or happily attend the reception after we eloped. I told them both Simon and I would rather elope. We have no desire to spend a zillion bucks for just one day of glitz and glam. We could get another car/truck or save up for a downpayment on a house, or even knock off a chuck of what I owe in college loans. So, elope it is.

Okay, now where the heck do we elope to?

Now that we’ve signed the lease for another year in Safford, that’s opened us up to pondering on actual marriage. We thought of Italy, since Simon has family stationed there with the U.S. military, but that’d have to wait until 2015, since we already have stuff planned for July and August. Maybe somewhere romantic and gorgeous in California? Get married on a  beach or something. Meh. Cliché.

The more we tried to plan our own wedding, the more our brains turned to goo. But out of that dual pile of goo jumped a brilliant idea: elope to Kansas during our July 4th vacation and let someone else hash out the details. Simon texted our friend Tammy, who leapt at the idea. Ten minutes later, she had a date and time set up, and invitations were going out via a Facebook group. Another friend of ours, Penny, offered to be our photographer, since she already does that professionally. Hell yeah! Things are finally falling into place. So, July 4th at 1PM at a location of Tammy’s choosing. She’s also taken care of finding us someone who’s ordained, too. Go, Tammy! :D

The day will be spent outside with wonderful people, and will conclude with lots of July 4th fireworks (no innuendo intended). It’ll be a day to remember, which is all we want. The most important part of our wedding is to build fond memories.

Now that we got that out of the way, the rings, the dress, and the rental tux are next. We’ve been looking at rings and it’s been a bit of a headache. I don’t care about the ring since I don’t wear jewelry and am aware that it’s just a scam orchestrated by jewelers, but Simon insists. Rings have been embedded in American tradition, so rings it is. He wants a simple gold band and I’ll take whatever looks pretty that doesn’t cost an arm and leg. We looked at gaming-themed rings, but they’re either super expensive or super cheap, and Simon wants to spend enough where it feels like he’s making a statement that he intends to take care of me for life. Fair enough.

Websites had some neat stuff but they didn’t have any World of Warcraft-themed rings. All our attempts to find some led us either to wowhead.com or to these cheap pieces of crap under 40 bucks. The idea was to pay tribute to the MMO we met in, along with our love of video games, but it looks like we’ll be going the plainer route. We’re headed to a local jeweler June 2nd.

Wedding: check. Rings: almost check. Dress: on deck.

Despite my disinterest in looking pretty at any given moment, I want to look pretty on my wedding day. I’ll be doing the whole makeup and hair deal, and wear a dress that makes me feel even prettier. Still, I’m hoping to find a decent one for under 300 bucks. Hopefully that’s reasonable. This dress is the style I have in mind:

Reception: details still need to be hashed out.

We’d like to set it for sometime this fall in California. It’ll be within easy reach of Simon’s family, and a nice vacation trip for mine to fly out to. We were originally thinking one reception on the east coast, and one on the west coast, but everyone in my family told me they’d happily fly out to Cali, so one it is. Also, fall bear more comfortable weather and gives people a chance to start planning ahead. Obviously many more details to come.

Getting proposed to: ummmm… yeah, we’re doing things out of order. Simon’ll get to that before the wedding. He already knows I’m gonna say yes.

As soon as the date and time of the wedding were set, a wave of fear passed through me. I’m getting married. I’m really getting married. I’m gonna be with one person forever, for the rest of my life. What if all this is a mistake?

I sat down with myself and imagined going the rest of my life without him, and this nauseating fear overtook me. I’d be lost without him. He completes me, has made me the happiest I’ve ever felt, and life the best it’s ever been. I know it in my gut that we’re making the right choice to wed each other. And while that acknowledgement doesn’t remove every last drop of fear, it allows me to look forward to how the rest of our lives will unfold together.

Making Time to Let Life Happen

I’ve hardly written or read this year. I think last year burnt me out a bit as a writer. I published four books in 2013, producing two of those from page 1 of draft 1, completing a third, and making a valiant attempt to polish a fourth. The reading part? I’ve buried myself in nightly Sudoku-a-thons. I have no valid excuse for slacking off.

I can’t say taking a break from writing has been wrong. It’s given me time to reflect on everything I did last year and learn from it all: the execution of completed works, the publishing process, marketing, networking, fortitude, humility, and perseverance. I now see books from the business side. Books aren’t your babies so much as they’re your product. I’ll never publish a book if my heart and soul isn’t in it but at least now I have a better idea of which books to prioritize writing. You really have to cater to what the market is craving, until you’ve made a name for yourself.

I’ve also taken a stab at marketing and I’ve drawn two conclusions after throwing away a couple hundred bucks: 1) all those sites that have marketing/promotion packages ranging from 5-100+ are a waste of money. There are a zillion desperate authors competing for a day, week, or month of exposure through all these sites that are more interested in making money than selling books. Don’t bother with them, unless you’re doing a free ebook promo, and don’t spend money advertising a free ebook. The only exception is if you have a series to follow up the handout. 2) You need a lot of money to do proper marketing. Honey holes, like Goodreads.com, start at $5,000/month.

On a more positive note, I’ve gotten a table at the Phoenix and Tucson Comicons. I’ll be in Phoenix from June 5-8, and I’m nervous and excited as hell about it. I’m terrified that, when I arrive to collect my Professional badge, they’ll tell me there’s been a mistake and I won’t even have a table. I just want to enjoy the whole experience and hopefully garner a few more fans. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur that I’ll become famous after one con; that weekend will be a stepping stone laid down on a path I’m traveling. Same will go for the Tucson one in November 2014.

And on an interesting note, I’ll be attending the residency back at my grad school this summer. I’ve been asked to speak on the thesis panel, which I happily will, and I’ll be sitting one on one with a literary agent. I’m hoping all the business sense I’ve learned will give me an edge. We’ll see.

Not writing until my eyes burn at the sight of an LCD screen or until my right wrist feels like it’s gonna snap in two has allowed my personal life to grow, more specifically my relationship with Simon. I’ve been a workaholic all my adult life and put off dating for one lame excuse or another.

In all honesty, they weren’t lame excuses. We all yearn for companionship, to love and be loved, to not be alone. Looking back at this past decade, I believe it was all preparation to be ready to have Simon in my life. What point is there in meeting the perfect person for you if you’re not ready to receive them and be the person they need in return? If you’re single and/or alone, what do you need to personally learn in order to be a great partner and lover?

Ironically, becoming boyfriend-girlfriend wasn’t the plan. Yes, we talked extensively about the possibility before I moved in with him, but we started as friends, even though EVERYONE assumed we were dating when they saw us together, even the neighbors. We must’ve had an air of being a couple or something. It wasn’t until back in March, 9 months of living together, when we finally made things official. Simon went from saying, “You’re the best girlfriend I never had” to “You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

I became consciously aware of my behavior towards him. I’ve never gone to such lengths to make anyone happy and comfortable, striving to make sure Simon has to do nothing beyond work, eat, sleep, and be good company. He’s done the dishes a whole twice since I’ve moved in, I do most of the cooking, and I massage his back almost every night. I find joy in simple pleasures, like his reaction to my making Ninja Turtle mac & cheese, or taking turns sticking our tongues out at each other until we crack up and call ourselves retarded (no offensive intended towards anyone).

Almost this entire time I’ve been worrying I don’t do enough for Simon. I’m so used to taking care of myself and, if I want something, I have to get it for myself. I’m financially dependent on Simon to take care of me, something that’s created quite a few sleepless nights over the past year. However, when we attended his grandmother’s 80th birthday party in Cali, Simon and I spoke with a family member who gave me a different perspective on the dynamic of our relationship.

I’m Simon’s cook, maid, accountant, housekeeper, errand runner, secretary, girlfriend, organizer, planner, and more. The fact that my financial contribution is almost nil is moot. Simon gets all of the aforementioned for taking care of me in return, and he’s also admitted that he hopes I become a rich and famous author one day so all he has to do is go fishing and work on cars. Works for me!

I guess part of me has been feeling guilty all this time because I’ve been enjoying life so much and, growing up with both parents working, I felt like I wasn’t doing my part. Simon and I talked about this and he actually prefers to be the sole provider. He feels a sense of duty and all I do on the home front has made his life the best it’s ever been as well.

Writing about this makes me want to cry tears of joy. To make him as happy as he’s made me is a beautiful thing. Our personalities compliment each other perfectly. He loves me to pieces but I’m still catching up emotionally–but I AM catching up. This is one of those relationships that’s started at a slow burn and grows stronger every day. Our goal is to get married by the end of 2014, and then start a family in 2015-16.

Start a family?! That’s a news flash to all who’ve known me for a while now. We had an oopsie in bed that led to needing to buy a morning after pill, which led to us talking about kids. Simon used to have a grandpa who shares the same birthday but, after he died, Simon has avoided celebrating his birthday. If we were to have a son together, he’d want to name him–first or middle name–Carlos, after his grandpa. It’d be like celebrating his birthday with his grandfather again. I’d get such joy out of giving Simon that.

If we’d never had that talk, I’d still be adamant about never having kids. Now I walk around in public, observing child behavior and telling myself that that’s what kids do. The only exception is that there will be no spoiled brats in our house. We won’t be starting a family until after we’re married and have financial stability. We don’t want the strain on our relationship, or the stress of trying to raise kids on an insufficient income. There will always be ups and downs, good times and scary times, but so long as we can depend on each other, things will always turn out alright in the end.

So… first things first: see how much longer Simon’s current contract lasts before hashing out wedding details.

A Weekend to Remember

Simon and I had a wonderful, wonderful weekend–a much needed wonderful one. He’s been working 13-hour shifts 7 days a week with only every other Sunday off. Add at least 90 minutes of driving a day and I see him a mere few waking hours a day. Simon used to not mind work-a-thons when he was single and had only a hotel room to retire to. Now that I’m in the picture, he yearns for more than just a big paycheck to blow on fishing and Jack & Coke.

Friday started with Simon working from 5-10AM. He was originally supposed to get the entire day off, but a transformer at work went boom and he had to go in to help fix the situation. We went out to lunch shortly after he got home, since we had a solid four hours of driving ahead, our commute including several dust devil sightings and one car with a huge tumbleweed stuck on the nose of its car. I’d expected to watch the vehicle pull over, but since the curved branches were blocking more of the passenger than driver side, it zoomed along without slowing.

If that’d been me, I’d have pulled over. Not only was the bush almost half the size of the car, I’d rather not put around with a driving hazard stuck to my front bumper. However, tumbleweeds are prone to exploding on impact when hit by a car. Simon informed me that anyone would be better off hitting one than swerving to avoid it. If that day ever comes, I’ll probably swerve on instinct.

We pulled in at Avondale Toyota around 4Pm, despite my reservations. We’d made an appointment for 8AM on Saturday but, since our final destination lay in California, another 4 hours of driving, we were hoping the dealership could squeeze us in a day early. However we argued about it along the way, me insisting the non-appointment drive-in was for oil changes only, while Simon insisted it was for everything. I nagged him into calling to make sure he was right but he lost signal during the call, resulting in him half-seriously, half-playfully complaining that I never listen to him, and me saying, “Fiiiine. We’ll go to the dealership.”

Let me pause a moment to explain that “because I know I’m right” will never ever convince me to take a person’s word for it. I want to know how a person knows they’re right, and why; not follow along without question. I just plain don’t work that way. I patiently explained this to him and he met me halfway by explaining how Phoenix is a big place and need to be able to take customers in without appointment for any vehicular needs.

That’s the explanation I was looking for!

We technically arrived a bit late in the day to do the regular maintenance and get new brakes but a couple of mechanics volunteered to stay late since not only do we have such a long commute to reach the dealership, we were headed to Cali the next day. Simon and I ate out at Buffalo Wild Wings and returned with some extra wings for the mechanics as a thank you.

We slept over at Nina’s house (Simon’s sister) but neither of us got much sleep. We couldn’t get comfy on the pullout couch. The next morning we picked up Simon’s mother, hit up a place that sold breakfast burritos for them and a Dunkin Donuts for me.

Simon’s mother talked almost the entire ride, which was fine, since I was in a listening mood and got to learn more about her, Simon, and family, along with the crazy winds we had the week before. We had some hefty winds with gusts approaching 50, but the farther west we went, the worse the winds got. At least the southern part of California we went to has something called the Santa Ana winds, which can reach hurricane force. They’d actually closed schools and whatnot because of the winds, and the aftermath was like a mild version of the snowstorm of doom from October 2011, with branches and trees lining the sides of roads.

Thankfully California’s smog wasn’t as thick as it had been back during New Year’s. It smelled normal, despite tinting the wispy clouds brown. Last time, it’d made Simon and I congested and feel a bit ill, but this time we enjoyed our stay and breathed unhindered. Uncle Martin hosted Simon’s grandmother’s 80th birthday, who’s a sweet old lady with lots of spice still in her. She posses quick wit and a good sense of humor, and even danced a little in front of everyone.

The food, the drink, and especially the familial company was great; however, mine and Simon’s energy level tanked towards the end of the night. We retired to Hama’s and Little Martin’s house, Simon passing out on the La-z-boy in under five minutes, and me taking a bit longer, having to cocoon tall me just right with two quilts, one for my legs and one for my torso.

We tried to sleep in, but by 7AM our circadian rhythms insisted we get on with our day. We had a WoW friend to visit, a D-Backs game to catch in San Diego, and the return trip to Buckeye all that day.

We visited Michael since he was a mere 20 minutes from Simon’s family in California, and was a blast to finally meet him and his family in person after all these years. He has a lovely wife and two adorable daughters, ages–I think–1 and 2. Since Simon and I have been talking marriage and kids, I took the opportunity to observe the children and assess my readiness to enter motherhood. Michael explained that the early years are more about making sure your kids don’t inadvertently kill themselves than anything else. They’re pretty darn easy to entertain and keep happy at that age. His youngest daughter loved being spun in a computer chair, and the older one loves being startled and trying to startle you back. Both girls had me in stitches, and the smile on the younger one’s face while being spun in the chair was so friggin’ cute. I wish I’d taken a picture.

I also talked with Michael’s wife, Amy, about being a first time mom, and if it was impossible to not be scared. She insisted I was gonna be scared no matter what, that she was scared of having something growing inside of her belly, too, and the pain of childbirth–the whole nine yards. It was nice to hear such things from a woman who’d just met me. Still, there’s no rush to start popping out kids. Simon and I wanna do some traveling and whatnot, get steadier work, and, most importantly, get married before starting a family. I already know I want this Legend of Zelda ring he showed me. I’d love that more than a diamond any day.

After Michael and family, we headed to San Diego, scratching our heads at the scant number of cars parked in Qualcomm Stadium before realizing that was for the Chargers and not the Padres. We corrected our route to Petco Stadium and were greeted with the slew of fans we’d been anticipating. The stadium is beautiful, complete with a view of the ocean from the upper tiers, pristine facilities, and excellent dining accommodations, complete with ballpark pricing. It was refreshing to see a live game again, even though the Diamondbacks lost. I must confess I didn’t care who won, since I’m a faithful Red Sox fan, but hey. I’m living in National League territory, so I’ll be rooting for the D-Backs, unless they play against my beloved Sox team.

The game went into extra innings but we headed out right before the bottom of the 9th since we had a hefty commute ahead of us. We picked up Simon’s mom at the birthday grandma’s house and exchanged farewells. Grandma even told me I “better take good care of her grandson or else.” I smiled and defensively put up my fists, and she imitated my stance and smiled back, taking a few mock swings at the air for good measure.

We didn’t reach Buckeye until after 11 at night, thanks to an incident involving my Prius suddenly running out of gas 5 miles from the final exit. Oh, the irony. My gas gauge went from 20% to empty in one minute thanks to my car having a gas bladder instead of a gas tank, meaning the gauge sucks at being accurate. That’s the first time in my life I’ve ever run out of gas and I can safely say I’ll never let myself get in that situation ever again. Simon’s brother drove to the rescue with some extra gas and I drove us to the next gas station, thoroughly embarrassed and my head hung low with injured pride.

After dropping off Simon’s mom at her home at last, we drove to a motel that was anything but 4 stars. We had a choice of one of two places in the area. At least it was free of bugs and critters, and the bed was more than comfy enough to get a good night’s sleep in.

We returned to the dealership the next morning–not because of the gas bladder issue but because I’d gotten a call on Saturday, a dealer telling me they’d love to have me trade in my car for a newer one I could get for 0% APR for 60 months. My Prius is a 2009 and already has 95k miles on it. It’s bee from Coast Guard beach in Cape Cod, to San Diego, and gets 100 miles put on it every work day. A new vehicle sounded great.

Turns out the deal was a no-go. The dealer tried his darndest to pressure me into a sale but the price tag of a new hybrid made my eyes glaze over with disinterest, even after sitting in a shiny new vehicle. The bluebook value of my Prius is only 9k and the 60-month plan would’ve almost doubled my current payment. It wasn’t worth it, and I got so fed up with his subtle pushiness that I wasn’t interested in talking used for 1.9% We shook hands and bid each other good day.

Simon’s dealt with a few car salesmen and has dabbled in floor sales himself, so he knows a loooot of the tricks salesmen use to net a sale, the biggest selling point being putting the product in a customer’s hand, and then taking it away, thus instilling a sense of possession and a need to re-obtain the product no matter the price. I wanted that 2014 Prius alright, but not for 26k and even more debt to work off.

It felt so good to be home Monday even, but Simon and I were so beat by the end of the day that we both fell asleep by 8:30PM. Nothing like concluding an enjoyable weekend in the comfort of your own bed.

Chapter 21: Wolfiepoo and Bacon!

Michigan native Chris, whom I usually call Wolf, Wolfie, or Wolfiepoo, (Wolfblood), is a friend from Anomaly whom I’ve enjoyed chatting with, and even went so far as to buy a copy of Fable III for him so he could get in on the fun. We became friends simply by being in the same guild and getting to know each other, just like you might become friends with coworkers.

Wolf got into video games around 12 or 13, thanks to his brother and father. Before that, it was all action figures and Legos. His family was big on the Final Fantasy series and other RPGs, like Warcraft 3 and Starcraft, but they brought Wolf into the gaming community with either Power Rangers or Battle Toads for the SNES (Super Nintendo Entertainment System). He remembers it being fun, and nowadays pretty much all of his life is dedicated to video games, when he isn’t in school or doing homework. His brother is slowly losing touch with the fun of gaming, feeling more interested in real life activities.

Wolf is in college now for Accounting, and is almost done with his Associates degree so far, and when he isn’t gaming or working on his degree, he works for UPS.

From his formative SNES days, he spread into Mario games, Pokémon, Dungeons & Dragons—both pen and paper, and online)—Secret of Evermore, Secret of Mana, Warcraft 3, Risk, and lots of free-to-play MMOs, starting with Ragnarok Online which, through the people there led him to WoW. He honestly had no intention of playing it before, since he was perfectly content with the aforementioned MMO.

Despite his lack of intention, he fell in love with the graphics and how his Druid could shape shift into different animals. From there he grew into a solid raider. Raiding, to him, is a great aspect of the game because he loves the cooperation and overcoming huge challenges that are impossible to achieve alone.

He’s stuck with WoW for so long because of the people, finding joy in hanging out with friends from various parts of the world. It’s an awesome experience, and he’s still in contact with the friends he considers the best ones. He’s never actually met any of them in person, though that will change soon enough. In July 2014, he and a few WoW friends will be meeting in Chicago for the Anime Convention. They keep in touch mostly through Skype, along with some instant messaging and lots of chatting in-game. They’re all into the same things and have a lot in common that makes them click.

Wolf and I are more casual friends, but we’ll never hesitate to say hi and keep tabs on each other, and talk about anything or nothing. It’s comforting to know that the other is there. While we both played WoW at the same time, we mostly just chatted, yet raided and instanced together here and there. Good times.

 

Wolfie believes, in regards to the online gaming community, there are “lots of good people, lots of bad people, plenty of memories to be made, and not a second wasted.” Most of his memorable moments lie with hanging out in a medieval town called Goldshire, making stupid jokes, dueling, and just talking.

 

One of his most memorable moments is casting a spell called Divine Intervention on his raid leader right before a boss pull. For those of you who don’t know, said spell puts the target in a protective bubble, removing them from battle, and everyone else in the raid dies as the price of the target’s survival. Wolf said it was a priceless moment.

***

Pascal, whom I call Bacon because his main character is Baconeh and all his toons have the word bacon in it, is from Quebec. Shouldn’t be a surprise he’s from Canada, eh? As of right now, he’s a mailroom clerk for the Correctional Services of Canada. “It’s an interesting job, to say the least.” He’s gotten some weird things in the mail over the years, from a Jaws replica to assault rifles. He works with a great group of guys and has fun doing what he does. He’d like to eventually get promoted to mailroom supervisor, but if that doesn’t happen, he’s happy where he is, until he finds something that might be interesting.

Bacon didn’t play a ton of video games before WoW, but even as he became a more intense gamer, he never let his enthusiasm lead to neglecting work, friends, or family. Around age 7 or 8, a cousin of introduced him to gaming back in the days of the Commodore 64, showing off a helicopter game (can’t remember the name). He enjoyed the challenge the game presented, and it was something completely new, then later got an Intellivision, along with a bunch of games, and he was hooked from then on.

Some of his favorite games from over the years are Soldier of Fortune 2, Master of Orion 2, Steel Panthers, the X-Wing and Tie Fighter series, and Civilization-style games. Soldier of Fortune 2 was a plain and simple FPS that he played for pure mindless fun. Master of Orion 2 was better than its predecessor as he could do more with research and interacting with the AI, and the graphics were much better. Steel Panther was a turn-based hex strategy game with WWII tanks, meaning it was a bit like D&D and moving your units into hexagon-shaped spaces. X-Wing and Tie Fighters met that simple love of playing a Star Wars flight simulator style game. What guy wouldn’t love that? And the Civilization-style games made him think and plan moves, like in chess.

Bacon got into WoW because because a few of his online games friends started playing it, and from what they said, it got him curious, so he looked the game up. A few days, teaser trailers, and one website later, he decided to buy the game and never looked back at his decision. He’s a fan of medieval/fantasy games, so he found that aspect of WoW quite appealing.

What got him addicted was that Blizzard focused more on gameplay and questing, in addition to the “cartoony” appearance. I learned through one of my friends there are gamers out there who prefer stylized games over those that try to create realistic-looking ones. I’m a fan of breathtaking graphics that look like art, be it stylized or realism. So, Bacon’s enjoyment of how disproportionate and goofy some of the characters looked is understandable. He also enjoyed the references to movies and other games sprinkled all throughout WoW, like NPC names and quest titles.

He doesn’t remember when exactly we met in Anomaly, but he’s sure it was “accentuated by improper innuendos. *wink wink*” That guild was full off adult humor, but it was all in the name of fun and laughs. We’d stop if we made anyone uncomfortable, which I can’t recall ever doing.

Bacon enjoys every play style, but mostly prefers to Tank or DPS, along with PvP. Depending on how he feels on a given day, he either wants the challenge of being a Tank and the responsibility that comes with it. If he wants to go on what he calls cruise control, he’ll DPS, as there isn’t much to worry about. As for PvP, that’s for the sheer mindless joy of it. He insists there isn’t much thinking involved in battlegrounds. “Call me a glutton for punishment, but I love tanking more than anything else.” No real tanking woes outside of grouping with random people, like players who pull mobs for you, who don’t know how to not stand in fire, and stuff like that.

Bacon stuck with WoW for so long because of the group of friends he made along the way, in addition to playing the game for enjoyment. The core raiders from Anomaly are all notable friends of his. They were all hard core raiders, and leveled, PvPed, and all the fun stuff friends do together in WoW. He still talks with his group of friends from before WoW every week, and he stays in touch with his Anomaly guildies as time allows. The core group includes ,but isn’t limited to, Eric, Steve, Sam, John, and Joe, who passed away in early 2013 from a heart attack. He was such a funny guy, with toons with names like Thilly Thailor, and Bacon has great memories of Joe he’ll always hold on to.

He met all of them while playing Soldier of Fortune 2, in a guild called Flaming Flamingos, and they’re all still friends to this day. Flaming Flamingos even had a pink tabard with a bird on it. He’s met fellow guildies JP and Dom in person, since they live nearby, and stays in touch with his remote friends via Facebook, Vent, TS, Skype, and email.

Some of his most memorable moments are the accomplishments Anomaly did: doing all the hard modes and achievements in Icecrown Citadel (ICC), the challenges in another raid called Ulduar, which had the guild ranked in the top ten in all of North America for 10-man raid groups. I vaguely remember partaking in that because they wanted to keep getting as many guildies in Ulduar as possible, and netting more and more achievements. I did alright on my gnome mage, until we fought a boss called Freya. Plant monsters would pop out of the ground and all I’d do was say, “Oh, crap!” and die.

On a funnier note for Bacon, he’s died a few times to what WoW players call the “Elevator Boss.” Basically it’s a lost fight against gravity. In one raid in the Cataclysm expansion, there’s a very tall elevator with only a small window to hop on. Everyone who’s ever raided there has probably died at least once to the Elevator Boss. Once said small window has passed, we all try to jump on the descending platform, only to fall to our deaths.

There was also this night where Bacon and Eric were PvPing in Alterac vally late one night. They got a bunch of achievements that are almost impossible to get, like winning without losing any structures, and even winning in under six minutes.

In all, the online gaming community is a great group of people who’re passionate about what they do. But, as in all groups, there are always bad apples that give the community a bad name. He’s been fortunate to meet almost exclusively good apples.

Chapter 20: Krymsen

Krymsen was born in North Carolina on a military base, and then she and her family moved to Phoenix, AZ and stayed there until she was four. From there they moved to Wells, NV, and then Reno. At age 19, she moved to Arkansas to live with a WoW friend who said she should move there, and she ended up loving the place. She became great friends with the guy, but life took a rough turn when her boyfriend of three years was killed in a car accident. Unable to remain in Arkansas, she drove back to Reno, pausing in Phoenix to visit family and meet another WoW friend named Simon, whom I’ll be introducing next.

 

She currently lives with her boyfriend named Noah and works for the local post office. Noah is a gamer as well but he’s huge on shooters and single player games. She tried to get him into WoW but he didn’t like it. However, they both play The Elder Scrolls Online.

 

Before WoW, she played only a bit of Diablo I. She was more active in school, did a lot of sports, and graduated at age 16. She didn’t enjoy high school, so she did what she could to get out fast. Krymsen (both her real and game name) got into WoW after she bought the Diablo II battle chest and saw a free trial. It looked like a game she’d be interested in, so she gave it a shot. She ended up finding solo leveling super fun, so she upgraded from trial to full subscription. Once she got hooked on WoW, sports fell by the wayside but she stayed fit with waiting tables.

 

She remembers jumping around in Dalaran, a city in the sky, bugging Reggie to come do dungeons. He asked if a friend could come, and she said sure. And bam, there I was, some really quiet person, and Krymsen assumed she was just being super loud or intimidating. She’s been told many a time that she intimidating, especially when she leads raids. She goes super authority mode, booting anyone who screws up too much. Her prerogative is to not waste anyone’s time and to get shit done.

 

She’s currently raiding on her rogue with the guild called Challenge Accepted, which is ranked 30th in the United States. She has nine toons total that are all heroic raid difficulty ready, but she prefers her rogue. She’s always been into the stealthy backstab play style. Sneaky is fun. She’s always been a hardcore raider, and having nine max-level toons classifies her as an altaholic as well. She’s a hardcore raider because she loves being at the top of competition and wants to be the best rogue ever, ranking in the top 20 in many national columns. She’s taken many a break from WoW over the past ten years, but she’s kept coming back not only for her friends, but also because of her strong competitive spirit.

 

Out of all the people Krymsen has met, myself, Simon, husband and wife Kim and Richard, and the aforementioned Josh are some of her best online friends. Even though I’m often quiet, I’m quite funny when I get going, Simon is a sweetheart, and Reggie has always been great to talk with, via in game or over the phone. She considers Josh a brother since not only did she help him through his divorce, he helped her through the sudden loss of her fiancée. Kim and Richard are awesome people whom she’ll finally be meeting face-to-face during the summer of 2014, and she considers Kim her best friend ever. She’s always easy to talk to and fun to be around.

 

Nabbing the bragging rights to a realm-first kill of Ragnaros, a giant lava monster with a really big mace, is her first amazing moment in WoW. In addition, there were some times she got drunk and tried to raid Ulduar with friends. She remembers having her character hump a dead boss, but blames the sudden and temporary necrophilia on her intoxicated state.

 

Gaming is a part of her life nowadays. She feels like many gamers are called lazy or antisocial, but gamers are just a bit different. Krymsen loves being a gamer and wouldn’t trade it for the world. She’ll play WoW ‘till the day she dies, or at least one MMO or another.

 

Chapter 19: Peas in a Pod

Inspired by the wonderful friendship with Josh and Ginny, along with the news that Josh was driving up to New York to see Ginny, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet the both of them in person at once. I drove three hours along the Mass Pike, passing stunning rock formations covered in ice and snow, since it was the middle of winter, countless pine trees dusted in more snow, and white, sprawling valleys of neighborhoods and open fields.

The road Ginny’s house sat on wasn’t very wide at the time, thanks to walls of snow encroaching on the road. Ginny greeted me and my Camry at the foot of the driveway, and then she scooted her truck farther up the driveway so I wouldn’t have to park on the road. The neighborhood was beautiful and homey, all the houses aged with history.

Ginny and I hugged and greeted each other, and I marveled at how long her hair was. I’d seen it over Skype, since we video chatted so I’d know what she looked like before driving up there. She’d even demonstrated that she could wrap her hair around her neck no problem, which got a laugh out of both of us, but since I’ve never been able to grow my hair past the base of my shoulder blades, Ginny having hair down to her waist fascinated me.

And then Josh… Oh, my god, someone who towers over me! One of my running jokes is that everywhere I go, I’m in the land of midget men. They’re all my height or shorter. Heck, I towered over Ginny and her mother, but Josh? Not so much.

Ginny’s parents are awesome people. They have strong values and a good sense of humor, and they took me in like family from the moment I stepped inside their home. I felt very welcome and, since they knew I was visiting, they made an effort to prepare a dinner I’d like. I’m not a health food nut, but I am a picky eater. However, I’ll eat around other people’s preferences, instead of make them bend over backwards to satisfy my palate. I want to say we ate roast beef, green beans, and one other vegetable that night, but I think my imagination is trying to flesh out the blank spots. What I do recall is the super awesome card game that followed.

It’s called F@#k Your Neighbor. I’d never played it before, but oh, man! It was so much fun. I was terrible at it, but Josh and I teamed up against Ginny and her mom while her dad watched on. No drinking was involved; just betting—terrible bets on my part, but it’s all good—and lots of laughs and friendly competition. Josh made a valiant effort to help us win, but my inexperience left me dead last, thus dragging him down with me.

Once the game concluded, I remember chatting with Josh and Ginny for a good while, until we convinced ourselves to stop talking and get some sleep. Before we tucked in to bed, Ginny fed her trio of cats, Peeve, Magic, and Simba, who were trained to sit in a loose circle and await the placing of a dinner plate inside the circle. It was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. Ginny also named one of her cats Peeve because she liked the idea of having a “pet peeve.”

Breakfast the next morning consisted of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, waffles made from scratch, which I so totally forgot to take leftovers home with me, and tea for me and coffee for them. Since I was the only tea drinker, I remember them having to scrub the kettle free of limestone deposits. Didn’t impact the tastiness of my preferred morning beverage one bit.

I got to know Ginny’s parents really well. I didn’t want to leave since I felt so at home and at ease there. However, I returned home in high spirits, despite having to ask for some extra quarters for the toll booths. I’m bad at math. I thought a ten-dollar roll of quarters would get me through the round trip on the Mass Pike. However, I’m so bad at math that I came up a dollar short on the final toll booth. I still remember the feel of color draining from my face. I was in the middle of a high way with insufficient money to continue my journey, and toll booths usually have law enforcement officials nearby. How was I going to get home?

Thankfully, the lady behind the glass just waved me through when I offered up my debit card. I stared in disbelief, my spike of panic vanishing like switching off a light. That’s it? Have a nice day? I’m free to go?

Throwing a wary look at the cop cruisers, then turning back to the lady, I thanked her and drove off, wondering if I should send that last dollar in the mail or something. However, I decided that’d be an awful lot of work for just a dollar, so I silently thanked the kindness sent my way and told my mom all about the visit and the inadvertent shortchanging episode when I got home.

Chapter 18: Josh and Ginny

  ***Please note: anything in [ ] was a footnote in my word processing document.***

I met these two lovely people through Reggie, who actually introduced Josh to Ginny. They’ve been happily living together in Iowa for four years now and they take turns introducing each other to new games. Marriage will happen when the time is right. Nowadays people can meet their future spouse through online gaming. Makes some of the best bedtime stories for children. Has magic, monsters, romance, and epic tales all in one.

Out of all the friendships I’ve formed, the one with these two is unique. They’re the only people I’ve gone back and forth between being great friends and going months at a time of not talking to one another. I hated those dry periods. Whenever we clashed, their method of coping was to avoid, where I’m the exact opposite and want to address the problem right then and there. This led to my characters getting put on their ignore lists several times but, once they’d cooled down, our friendship would bloom again and we’d act like nothing ever happened.

Sometimes forgiving and forgetting is the best way to go, especially when you’ve already forgotten what exactly needs forgiving.

Ginny is native to Mohawk, New York, a region full of rolling hills and endless farmland that sits between Buffalo and Albany. She grew up in an old house from, it’s estimated, the 1700s that used to be one side of a street, but then people dug up the foundation sometime during the 1800s and transported it to the other side, horses, logs, and all. It used to be a carriage house.

Ginny got into WoW back in the beta testing days. She started playing because her best friend’s husband got his wife into gaming, who told Ginny she had to play WoW, too. Before, she played Everquest and one other MMO that escapes her memory after all these years. On top of that, she’s been gaming since the days of the home Pong console. Her parents bought it when she was about 6 years old, and it opened up casual yet competitive gaming for her.

She and her mom were the big console gamers in the house. Her dad and brother never really got into it as much. Still, the nerd gene runs deep in her entire family. Board, card, TCG, computer, console, tabletop, etc. Everyone likes some kind of game and they spread into family pastimes, like Pinochle. Ginny can still remember listening to them play while she and the rest of the kids were in the living room, watching TV.

Her mom used to test games for Intellivision, which was out around the same time as the Atari 2600. Then one day she brought home the original Nintendo and, shortly after, her Dad made Ginny her first home computer. He’s now an Air Force retiree who’s been working with the computers since the days they took up entire rooms.

I know her best as Lyssandra, a priest, and her mage, Kazulniteoak. Some of her most memorable moments involve killing Shade of Aran (a boss) with just her mage and a healer for the last 5%, along with teleporting herself at the conclusion of a raid, instead of using the group teleport feature on a number of occasions. (I’ve done that, too.) Habit mode kicks in, and next thing you know you’re saying, “Oh, no!” over Vent while your screen is loading. You’ve accidentally just stranded 9 to 39 other people. You get a mix of laughter and “Aw, man!” in response. It’s an inconvenience more than anything.

Like me, she’s an altaholic, but very good at what she does. She’s also been an avid raider, pet collector, and achievement point acquirer. [Just like in real life, you can be a pet hoarder, but in WoW you don’t have to feed, water, clean, groom, or anything; just summon them to your side with a click of a button and they’ll follow you to the ends of Azeroth.]

PvP has never really been her thing. It was good until a PvP feature called Arena came out, where the environment grew toxic with chronic complainers. Before Arena, people used to employ teamwork and verbal support; now it’s more about numbers (damage and healing output) and name-calling.

Ginny believes the toxic numbers game stems from an addon called Recount, which tracks many things, including damage and healing output. It’s meant to help people improve their DPS and healing (it’s helped me, too) but instead it drove people to turn WoW into a numbers game, instead of a collaborative effort to overcome a challenge. There’s been a serious decline in motivation to work and learn together.

Ginny still plays WoW on and off, taking breaks to let the game sit, so when she comes back it feels fresh again. She’s really enjoyed the game all these years, but she’s stuck with it for so long because of the people. There are still quite a few people, including myself, that she’s still friends with and stays in touch with mostly through Facebook or texting.

* * *

Josh, whom I like to call Joshiepoo, has played mostly on his Rogue and Druid, whose names have changed a lot over the years. [Players can change their characters' names for a fee.] He’s a sweetheart who’s always willing to help, has a mountain of patience when it comes to teaching others how to raid or play their class, and is one of those people who is always happy and smiling. It’s super rare for him to be in a bad mood, but even then, those moments are fleeting. He prefers to be in a good mood and will do everything he can to get back into one, especially listen to music, like symphonic and Christian Metal, but just about any type of good music will lift his spirits.

Josh started playing WoW during late Vanilla, thanks to his brother, who was a huge fan of Everquest. That game never did it for Josh but WoW looked rather interesting, so he grabbed a copy and started playing. He didn’t really get into it until somewhere in mid-BC, thanks to his ex-wife. The two didn’t have a whole lot in common; he was a nerd and she was a country girl. Josh had been hoping WoW was something they could do together, but that didn’t work out so well. Since then, he’s been a regular player while taking short breaks here and there.

Josh and I didn’t talk a whole lot when we first met. All he remembers is my toon Midgetofdoom and that my voice on Vent didn’t match that name. Wasn’t midgety enough.

He’s a Pella, Iowa native, a town in the middle of nowhere, and currently works for Pella Corporation as a Utility Operator. He’s the go-to guy, the “gopher”, since he’s been working there so long. Despite how well the company has treated him, he has big dreams for his future outside the facility. He’s creating a trading card game from the ground up, writing lore, rules, marketing, etc. WoW inspired him to pursue this passion. Some friends don’t understand this passion but for Josh it gives him a focal point in every aspect of his life, and honestly, it’s probably the best thing to happen to him in the last fives years—besides Ginny, of course.

Josh has been gaming since the tender age of five, beginning with the classic Nintendo. His dad set it up and he played Mario Bros. and Legend of Zelda for hours on end. He’s enjoyed every genre and form of gaming (like D&D, which he plays to this day). His dad played video games as well, but not nearly as much as Josh and his brother. However, some of Josh’s fondest memories are of going to bed and his dad coming into their room to play. Josh and his brother would watch and try to help him out with solving puzzles in Zelda and whatnot.

Joshiepoo enjoys every play style in WoW. He’s got six 90’s thus far and more in the coming weeks. [The max level in the game as of February 2014 is 90. It’s easier to say “90’s” instead of max-level toons.]

Two of those are PvP-specific and he raids often with two other toons. He’s also a big fan of the pet battle system, having six solid contenders at the highest level of competition, and then a complete zoo at his disposal, since he loves collecting them all. Ultimately, he’s the sort of gamer who prefers exploring every aspect of a game and enjoying it for the whole and not just one particular part.

In his opinion, WoW has done a great job of creating an enjoyable whole, especially compared to other MMOs. They’ve balanced every aspect of content for casuals all the way up to hardcore. He’s met and built an amazing WoW family whom he’d almost call blood. He enjoys playing with them and it’s the best medium when it comes to staying in touch. Community is imperative in an MMO, since he’s a very social person. WoW, especially the guild Anomaly, has given him that. Heck he’s even met four gaming friends in real life: me, Ginny, and two guildies who live in Minnesota. There are distant plans in the works to visit some friends in Florida. He keeps in touch with everyone via Facebook and WoW, since he’s not much of a phone person.

It’s a struggle for Josh to pinpoint memorable moments in WoW. The whole experience has been one big blob of a memory where all the defining moments blend together, the biggest one meeting the love of his life and soul mate, Ginny.

Josh admits that WoW possibly saved his life. He went through a horrible and nasty divorce in 2009. Ironically, it was because of WoW that his marriage went downhill, but he admits the marriage was heading south before all that. During that tough time, he met a couple key people who knew what was going on, along with Krymsen (whom you’ll be meeting later in the book), whom he met during a drunken stupor late one night. Those three helped him keep his sanity by being there for him and helping him through it all.

Yes, his friends and family from the real world helped, too, but the escape from reality WoW provided, along with the real people in the game helped so much. His gaming friends were caring and showed genuine concern, and he’s so thankful for that. He’s usually the guy that people seek to cry on his shoulder and vent to. His WoW friends gave him that outlet to vent, have a shoulder to cry on, and to get stuff off his chest so he could start thinking clearly.

Chapter 17: So How ‘Bout that Bachelor’s Degree?

 

Wrath was released the same year I finished my undergraduate degree and I was in a bit of a funk at that point in my life. During high school, I and my fellow students were constantly pressed to go to college because that was the best route to a well-paying job. They pushed us towards it by showing statistic charts describing the average annual income based in level of education, and things like that. I didn’t wanna be the loser who worked at McDonald’s for the rest of her life. Heck, I’d worked for one of those horrid places for a mere month before I had to get out. I was a student athlete and the manager didn’t understand the concept of scheduling me around my practices and Track & Field meets, so I went with what I liked doing more: sports.

I enrolled in my local community college right out of high school, not having much of a plan of where I was going, but my heart was in Art at the time. I took Gen Eds alongside my beloved art classes, and for one of my prerequisites I had to choose between either a speech class or Acting I. Since I’m deathly afraid of talking in front of people, acting was out of the question. I didn’t want to take the speech class either for the same reasons but, since I had no choice but to pick one evil or the other, I went with Acting I. Speech class sounded hopelessly boring.

I fell in love with acting, finding it fun, instead of frightening, and got cast in The Hobbit: A Musical. Yep, I sang in front of people, too. My singing is passable but you’ll never see me audition for American Idol; however, I had such a positive experience with all that acting stuff that I had to do more when I transferred to the local university. I wanted to minor in Theatre for the fun of it, but I ended up completing a BFA in Theatre while minoring in Creative Writing. I was an English major for a whopping two hours before making the switch.

I veered away from majoring in Art because I realized I enjoyed drawing and painting more as a hobby than anything else, and I lacked the drive to stand out among the steep competition. At the same time, I’d written my first fantasy book at age eighteen and wanted to become a famous author. Back then, I thought what I’d written would become the next Harry Potter phenomenon, when in reality it was a novice piece of crap. But hey, we all gotta start somewhere.

By age nineteen I realized I had a lot to learn about writing and storytelling, so I needed a steady day job while honing my craft on the side. I figured getting a Bachelor’s in English would be smart, but all those dull literature classes made me grimace. On top of that, what would I do with an English degree? Teach? I’m not teacher material! But what else was there? Maybe I’d learn to enjoy teaching like I learned I enjoyed acting.

Fast forward two hours and one incredibly positive experience with the professors in the Theatre department, and I switched to Theatre as my major with a Creative Writing minor. I had no idea where I’d go with such a degree, but I finally felt like I was in the right place.

In retrospect, I realize life was connecting me with people I needed to meet. During undergrad, the relationship between my dad and I was shaky, so life had provided me with a surrogate father who helped me get through that tough time. Thankfully, my father and I now have the relationship we’ve always wanted and needed. It was quite the roller coaster ride getting there but we never gave up on each other; just took cool down periods here and there. We’re very much alike so it’s easy to butt heads.

When I stopped needing the surrogate father, I felt like I no longer belonged in Theatre. On top of that, I’d learned to tell the difference between good and bad acting, and I realized I didn’t fall under the good category. However, I was so close to done that I wanted to finish what I started, despite how awkward it felt. I was hyper aware of all the talent surrounding me, along with how dedicated and passionate these people were about acting, yet there I was, just passing through and learning a bunch of neat things along the way, my need to focus on writing growing more intense every day.

By my final semester, I realized I was about to graduate with no clue as to where to take myself next. I’d written a second book that was almost as terrible as the first, but I’d stopped writing for a couple years, even though I loved it. I felt so lost at that stage of my life. I wanted to be nothing more than a full-time author but I was clueless on how to do that, considering maybe 4% of authors could live exclusively off of their writing at the time. On top of all that, I had people on all sides telling me I needed to get a day job while pursuing my life’s passion. Of course they were right. I didn’t want to be some freeloader who was still living with her mom at age 40.

I asked my counselor what I should do with my degree. Teaching, go to Hollywood, go to New York, go to grad school, etc. Every last idea made my insides squirm. I didn’t want to teach acting when I knew I was lousy at it. Moving to a big city frightened me. I’m an outdoorsy person who enjoys peace and quiet. To drive the point home, I lived in Connecticut for 28 years, a mere two hour drive from New York City without ever visiting it, yet I’ve driven two hours many a time to hit Scarborough Beach in Rhode Island. I’ve got my priorities straight…

Grad school didn’t appeal either. I had no desire to try and become a better actor when I knew in my heart of hearts that I’m a writer and acting wasn’t for me. I was too scared to admit that to anyone at the time. I was comfortable for a while, but then I got tired of having the same stupid conversation almost verbatim every time I told someone I’m a writer. It went something like this:

“Oh, you’re a writer, huh? Written any books yet?”

“Yeah, two.”

“Oh, really? Are you published yet?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a lot of work and I’m still trying to get a literary agent.”

“Have you tried self-publishing?” That was just emerging at the time.

“No. That costs a lot of money.”

From there the conversation either went dead or the person would try to help me with something I knew far more about than they did. I don’t mean that pompously; I mean I did my research on query letters, synopses, how to approach individual agents, and the whole traditional publishing process, which is one hell of a hassle from start to finish, but so worth it. I knew what it took and these people, who were only trying to help, quite frankly didn’t. At first these people frustrated me to no end, but I learned to take them in stride.

The only part that never got easier to take was one of two questions: “So what’s your day job?” or “So is this your day job?” They’d ask it with a smile, thinking they were making a joke while I made their latté. I’d put on a fake smile and say something like, “Whatever pays the bills.” People often don’t realize that it takes a lot of time and effort to reach difficult goals. There’s no such thing as “overnight success.” In order to pursue writing, I needed something practical that allowed sufficient time to keep moving forward with my dream.

After I finished undergrad, I went into hiding for a year, steering clear of family since I felt so ashamed of having spent the last five years in college just to remain stuck in customer service. I got burnt out from waiting tables at my local Red Robin, tried switching to hostess, but dear god that was a whole different type of stressful. Grumpy hungry people are not easy to deal with. I then switched to line cook and found it enjoyable, until the coworkers who’d be a pleasure to work with quit and were replaced by far less pleasant people.

I reached out to some extended family for ideas on what to do next as a writer, and one of them suggested I work at a local bookstore.

Cue smacking my own forehead. I couldn’t believe I’d overlooked the idea all this time.

I had a choice of either Barnes & Noble or… Barnes & Noble. That’s it. I breezed through the interview process but, for once, my previous job experience worked against me. They were aching to stick me in the café, even though I was aching to be on the book floor. However, since I refused to pass up the opportunity to work so close to books and lots of readers, I took what I could get and bid Red Robin a fond farewell. To this day, it’s still my favorite burger joint.

Working in a bookstore wasn’t the dream job I thought it’d be. Fueling America’s caffeine addiction appalled me but at least I enjoyed making friends with my coworkers and our regular customers, all who loved to read, and could give me suggestions on which book to pick up next.

It wasn’t until I could look back on my time with Barnes & Noble that I realized life had once again put me where I needed to be. While there, I landed a super awesome job as Throwers coach for my local high school. One of my former coaches just happened to stop by the café while I was working, and she informed me that the town of Enfield was in dire need of a decent throws coach. And that was the only time I ever saw that former coach again.

Since I’d done Track & Field all four years of high school, had a school record in my name for indoor girl’s shot put (still might), and figured I could teach kids to do as I did, I applied and got hired right away.

It was scary at first and I wasn’t much of an authority figure, but I grew into the role and did well enough to coach kids into national-level competition, along with help break the boys outdoor shot put record. I motivated them with Oreos and flying footwear (yes, I threw sneakers to get their attention), and marveled at how much my athletes grew.

While I was coaching and making lots of lattés, yet another fateful customer crossed paths with me, some girl who was in WestConn’s MFA program in Creative & Professional Writing. It was extra fateful at that point because I’d stopped telling people I was a writer, but for some reason I told her.

Instead of getting that cookie cutter conversation, I got an excellent pitch on the aforementioned MFA program. I read up on it and WestConn became one of only two grad schools I applied. The first one was in Vancouver, some place that basically considered itself above the fantasy genre. I remember asking if I should bother, since their program wasn’t big on fantasy, and the admissions person said I could get in if my writing sample was good enough.

Yeah, it wasn’t. Oh, well. WestConn happily took me on and boy did they put me to work, but I was thrilled with the incoming mentorship in becoming a better writer and storyteller. And my online gaming friends were happy for me, too.

Chapter 16: Midnight Release Party

 ***Please note: anything in [ ] was a footnote in my word processing document.***

Halo 2 was the first game I ever went to a midnight release of. The previews made it look fantastic and, after the zillion hours spent going through Halo 1’s campaign and defeating it on every difficulty, even legendary, I couldn’t wait for the continuation of the fight for the survival of the human race against aliens called the Covenant. My brother and I joined a slew of boys at the local EB and I acquired my special edition of the game, packaged in its shiny metallic case.

WoW’s expansion, Wrath of the Lich King (WotLK/Wrath), is the second game I can recall attending its midnight release. Unlike for Halo 2, I wasn’t the only girl this time, which was nice. I chatted with the guy ahead of me in line, who had reserved three copies of the game, all for himself.

Three copies? What the heck? I’d heard of multi-boxing by then, but I’d never met anyone willing to spend so much money on one game before. Not only do you buy a copy of the game, you pay a monthly subscription. Multi-boxing defeats the whole purpose of playing online. It removes the need to be social. I kept my opinion to myself and instead pressed him for details, trying to understand why he found his play style so appealing. [Multiboxing: playing multiple characters at once by partitioning your computer screen or linking several computers to the main one.]

Whatever he said, there was no way I’d be willing to pay for several subscriptions at once.

While us gaming nerds eagerly awaited the stroke of midnight, someone from either Domino’s or Pizza Hut showed up, trying to sell individual slices for three bucks apiece. I think we all looked at that delivery guy like he was some freak of non-nerd nature. No one bought a slice. I wasn’t interested in any since it was the wrong time of day to eat, and I was actually surprised none of the guys seized a snack opportunity. Maybe we were all equally anticipating zooming home with the latest expansion so much that we weren’t hungry.

Maybe it was simple as finding three bucks a bit much for a slice of pizza.

As soon as I’d acquired my prepaid copy, next thing I know I’m back home, sitting in front of my computer and the game is downloading, epic classical music blaring from my speakers. Once the game was done installing, I hopped on Vent and dived straight into creating a Death Knight, the newest class I so had to try out.

I’m a big fan of collecting game soundtracks. I have all the World of Warcraft soundtracks, except the Classic WoW version, FFVII, FFVII: AC, FFXIII, a chunk from FFXIV, Dragon Age: Origins, Skyrim, Halo 1-3, and more. There are several I have yet to acquire that I’d love to find one year, like Chrono Cross and The Legend of Zelda:Ocarina of Time (with a full ensemble; not synthetic keyboard).

People who don’t play video games don’t expect such beautiful and dramatic pieces of music from such a source. I’ve surprised family, friends, and neighbors with sweeping scores that add a little more flavor to daily life. And being a writer, I rarely listen to music with words, so I almost never know what’s hot in pop culture. However, I’ve stumbled across artists like Lindsey Stirling and groups like The Black Mages. Some songs I like, and others not so much, but it’s all good.

I attempted to pull an all-nighter on Wrath’s release but somewhere around 5A.M. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, despite downing a couple mugs of tea. I don’t drink coffee, consider soda tasting like carbonated syrup, and find energy drinks tasting like vomit in a can. I guzzled a lot of Arizona Green Tea back then but now that I’ve cut back on liquid sugar, I don’t know how the heck I found that stuff remotely tasty. I had at least one friend gaming on a Red Bull rush who managed to stay up all night and grind his way to the new max level that same day. [Grind: gamer lingo for "bang out" in work production terms.] I slept for at least three hours, not wanting to throw my sleeping schedule too out-of-whack. I was still in school and couldn’t bring myself to skip classes for a video game, no matter how great it was.

Well, release week was full of bumps and I found myself with pockets of time devoid of WoW. Blizzard is notorious for rushing new content before it’s entirely bug-free, thus creating all sorts of frustration for players and, I imagine, thrusting employees into a high-stress situation. They must soothe angry and frustrated gamers while programmers implement mini patches to fix everything they missed as fast as they can.

I must confess that this sloppy execution never steered me away from WoW, but I don’t understand why, when they peaked at 12 million subscribers at one point, Blizzard felt a need for haste when it came to releasing new content. They churned out so much great stuff. It would’ve been even better if the executions had gone smoother. I humbly admit I know nothing about running a gaming company, so my knowledge is severely limited in this area.

Wrath made me even more hooked on WoW with the introduction of Death Knights, the continent Northrend, world PvP, and a tighter storyline that stemmed from Warcraft III. I enjoyed the lore until it took a tangential turn with this frost giant race, along with their Ulduar patch. The content had nothing to do with the big bad guy of this expansion, but hey, at least the raid itself was fun.

I also began to take crafting and raiding more seriously. I maxed out every last profession and began to hoard mats (materials), and I made an earnest effort to become a better raider. At one point I benched Midgetofdoom and dusted off Sekiro, and by the third major patch became a regular raid healer as a Resto Druid. But before I did, I failed miserably at tanking, did a lot of PvP on my hunter, Løstsøul, a lot of achievement farming on Sekiro, and faced a hard truth in regards to the culmination of five years of college. [Achievements and achievement points were introduced in Wrath, thus encouraging/suckering players like myself into completing every last bit of content.]

Chapter 15: Not Quite Making the Cut

 ***Please note: anything in [ ] was a footnote in my word processing document.***

Raiding is endgame content that I’ve poured a billion hours into. Can’t say that I regret it, nor that I could have spent my time more wisely. Raiding can help strengthen the bonds of friendship, or even tear them apart. They strengthen them because gamers learn to work as a team to achieve difficult feats, and they can tear them apart because of either gear or the immutable number of spaces available in a raid.

In BC, raids were either 10, 25, or 40-man raids, depending on what size Blizzard designed them to be. The composition of tanks, healers, and DPSers varied for a variety of reasons I’ll spare you the boring details on, but the important part is that guilds needed a certain size roster, along with a certain degree of maturity, patience, and fortitude, since learning how to kill things in one raid encounter or another took practice, meaning everyone would die a lot. A lot. I mean for weeks on end sometimes. Some people couldn’t handle the learning process and wanted to be rewarded with gear just for showing up. Understanding that one had to earn the gear wasn’t part of their mental process, but oh well. It’s all good. The weak links weeded themselves out more often than not.

Lack of maturity aside, loot drops were another reason friendships were sometimes severed. I was a bit of a loot whore myself at one point, but I fast learned to share and enjoy the sharing. [Loot whore: person who wants every last bit of gear that drops and doesn't want to share.] If we all geared up at an even rate, that made the boss fights all that much easier, instead of having to depend on a select few to carry everyone else. [Carry: pick up the rest of the group's slack.] If any of these select few died, that meant the attempt was a bust and we’d have to wipe and try again from the beginning. [Wipe: everyone in the group dies.]

It got frustrating sometimes, especially when a wipe amounted to bad luck or a moment of lag and such. Crap happens. Overall, the frustration was worth it because of the sense of accomplishment. A frustrated mood plaguing the raid could be turned on its head with one major victory, and suddenly all that frustration didn’t matter anymore.

After all that hard work, and it was time to dish out the gear upgrades, some people didn’t know how to share the loot. Only a few pieces dropped per boss. If something they wanted dropped, they wanted to be the first to get it. Waiting their turn didn’t compute. Guilds use one of several ways to hand out loot, like scoring systems called DKP and EPGP, since the default way was to /roll for it and a number from 1 to 100 would be randomly generated by the game, and the highest roll would be considered the winner. [Monsters "drop" loot upon death for players to grab and put to use.]

The game seems to know when a player really wants something, and such a coveted item will rarely drop but, if it does, those who want it the most have a tendency to produce the worst rolls. On the flip side, if you don’t really want it, it’s easy to roll 90+ and say, “Wow, what a waste of a good roll.” I’ve lost track of how many times this has happened to myself, along with how many times I’ve heard my friends express similar sentiment.

To drive the point home, I have the most epic fail of loot roll stories. [Epic fail: terrible/horrible.] I was on my hunter in a zone called Zangarmarsh, a marshy place with giant mushrooms and a huge lake in the middle. Sounds trippy but it was my aesthetically favorite zone of the BC expansion.

Okay, that didn’t make me sound like any less of a druggie…

Anyway, another hunter helped me kill an elite mob called a naga, a human-sized, teal, serpentine creature with a crocodilian head, and a dorsal sail running the length of its body. On its corpse was a rare-quality upgrade for both of us. I don’t remember what it was exactly but I do remember us both rolling “need” on the item. I rolled a 1 and he rolled a 2 and won the loot.

Wow. Just wow. I lost to a 2. I haven’t met anyone else who can say that.

That hunter and I had a good laugh and, like a good sport, I accepted the losing roll and let him keep the upgrade without complaint.

Some people didn’t know how to share loot no matter how fair the system was. Friendships broke on occasion. It got frustrating, but at least you learned who your real friends were.

Bearing all that in mind, I took a stab at raiding in The Burning Crusade. I was decent at using my mage’s cc (crowd control), refused to try tanking since I didn’t want that kind of responsibility, and healing sounded boring, so DPS it was. [Tank: player who specializes in survivability and is the meat shield of the group. If this person dies, chances are everyone dies shortly after.] Successful teamwork was fun and all, but I wasn’t cut out for the constant wiping as a raid team learned fights, a.k.a. progression. It made me grumpy and cheapskate me has always hated repair bills. When you battle, your gear gradually loses durability, but death dealt major blows to gear, thus racking up that bill in a hurry. My real-life frugality carried over to gaming. I liked to raid when I was just about the only person learning a fight. That way it’d take no more than a few tries, and if I died, it was no big deal. Midget me could piggyback on the veterans.

Good lord, I was such a noob back then. But, before I can get de-noobified, I need make some more friends, have life take a hard turn into depression mode, yet find a little romance.

* * *

I have to share one particularly funny story from my BC days, before I move on to the next expansion. It involved me on my mage Midgetofdoom, a hunter friend, and a priest friend, all of us casually chatting on Vent while we three-manned an instance called Slave Pens. The instance is a watery version of its namesake with fishy monsters enslaving dwarfish humanoids that look like a purple version of Davy Jones from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

We were using the hunter’s pet as our tank, so we were doing very well, until one of the monsters with a mind control power made one pull go horribly awry. The pet died, I died, the priest died, and our hunter friend used his ability Feign Death, which tricks enemies into thinking they’ve already killed the hunter, so they go back to where they were before attacked.

When the coast was clear, he popped back to his feet. “No one release. I have goblin jumper cables.” [Release: in order to recover from death, you either have an ally resurrect you, or you release your ghost to the nearest graveyard and run back to your body. Don't ask how your body is hale and whole after all that. It's a video game.]

Said cables are unreliable AEDs. Most of the time they work, and the rest of the time they turn the target into a charred husk. However, the odds of that are small, so they come in handy, especially for non-healing classes, who lack resurrection spells.

Our hunter friend prepped the cables and used them on the priest, so she could resurrect me next. “I love these cables,” the hunter said in a reverent voice that sounded like it was ready to break into song.

Zap!

“They didn’t work,” the priest said flatly.

“I hate these cables,” he said with the vehemence of a person in need of a sledgehammer.