I’ll start with a quick mention of +1 common sense. I expect (statutory) compensatory stupidity in the near to middle future.

Frank Herbert once commented that “…the mind commands the body and is obeyed. The mind commands itself and meets resistance.” I occasionally have the opposite problem: I can imagine in detail any number of storylines in exquisite detail, or rant about those bastard motherfuckers, you know the ones, right? But at the moment when it comes to writing it down my hand turns into a lump of dead wood that can barely bash out a few mongrel sentences at best. Fucking hand. I stare at the traitorous thing and order it to write more; it resists. I ask for a why, and it shrugs. Seriously, fucking hand. It has made this blog into a chore to update because the lack of any recent photos. No longer can I just get by by posting an image, adding a blurb and calling it a day until tomorrow. And you, fucking hand, make even that difficult.

Fuck it, photos will follow eventually. Like The General, THEY ARE COMING.

Caira has started to pick up on World of Warcraft, which is somewhat scary. While at the supermarket on Saturday night Caira insisted that cats go meow, dogs go woof, ducks go quack and cows go RAWR! Shit, heh. She’ll sit down with Mariah or I and insist that it’s her turn now, which is awfully adorable and frightening in one neurotic bundle that’s only exaggerated by our suspicions that she can already read a few words here and there on screens, mostly those of her favourite television shows. I can believe this on the grounds that reading is mostly pattern recognition. I’m very happy that she can do this and I have copies of The Hobbit, Dune and The Lord of the Rings waiting in the wings for her next few birthdays. But still, frightening. She’s two, for Christ’s sake…

I solo’d two parts of Scarlet Monastery last night, the Library and Armory, for which I’m quietly proud of myself. Another few levels and I’ll be running twinks through there like it’s a breeze. I got the Scarlet Belt, Tabard and Berserker’s Helm, while Mariah got the Scarlet Leggings, Scarlet Pants, a nice green bow and some other really nice loot to sell. Fun was arguably had by all. Follow the link above to see Shahadet in his current glory. Level 45 and spec’d into Enhancement for the sheer fun of beating the living crap out of anything that comes within melee range of him. He’s like a plus-sized Rogue with healing spells. Glee.

THANK YOU FOR NUMBER 65, Jen. It meant a lot because you’ve been an a friendly ear and a shoulder to lean on when you had every reason in the world to not be.

My widdle PVP killing machine. I’d originally planned to keep him at level 39 for the foreseeable future, but a bad weekend in Arathi Basin convinced me that it was worth my while to level up and work my way through the next tier of play. People in AB…made me weep. Hot, bitter tears, because they were like a gorram zerg…

Quick, defend the Blacksmith!
Can’t, defending Stables
But there’s no Horde there!
There might be

-_-

It’s coming fast, too, don’t forget that. So in that spirit, I’d like to ask that someone chip in and buy me this awesome print:

Today’s my birthday!

I don’t know what to say here, really, as I’ve never been one for huge celebrations. On Wednesday I hit Fremont Street with Sean, who’s a friend from out of town and we both got suitably drunk. Last night, Mariah, Caira and I went for a really incredible dinner at the India Palace in the university district.

Tonight we’re both off to the Stratosphere for gamboling and shopping. All in all, it’s been quiet but good, which is what I enjoy.