the obligatory year in review

I think I’m ready.  The stockings are hung, the tree is trimmed, and the office is overrun with high-calorie carbohydrates.  Bring on Christmas Chaos 2006!  We spent yesterday at my in-laws, and I can’t even begin to describe the joy that is hearing a three-year-old repeat, thirty-seven times in two minutes, “I WANNA OPEN ANOTHER ONE I WANNA OPEN ANOTHER ONE I WANT IWANT IWANT” at top volume.  Seriously.  It’s moments like this that remind me why birth control is a beautiful thing.

It’s been a hectic year, and I attribute that to coming down off the college trip and learning how to navigate the “real” world.  College came with a lot of firsts – first apartment, first self-sustaining job, first pet, first car, first 2 a.m. breakfast at Denny’s where you’re too drunk to get to the restroom without hanging on your (equally drunk) friend.  You know, the things that really matter.

But leaving the academic safe haven (well, almost – I still work here, after all!) also came with some pretty significant (if not drunken) firsts, too.

Memorable events in 2006:

  • The S.O. and I celebrated our 6th year together, and I figure another year where we didn’t kill each other is always worth a mention.  I kid, I kid.  I am continually amazed that we are so good together, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend and companion, especially in my most blanket-flingy moments.
  • I landed my first full-time professional job.  This was probably the most significant of all the years’ events, and also the most difficult adjustment.  As much as I want to be a starving artist, I don’t actually like to starve, and it’s hard to argue with money, benefits, and a Malaga with your name on it.
  • I spent a couple months in counseling, which was a major first for me.  Now I’m not sure why I ever shied away!  Counseling is wonderful, especially for people like me, who like to talk about themselves.  It’s like blogging, but to someone who HAS to listen to you!  Because it’s their job!  Sucker!
  • Photography and I had a falling-out, which hasn’t resolved itself even now.  Unfortunate, because I was pretty darn good at it, too.  Hopefully there will be a time in the near future when I can pick up a camera and not feel guilty of abandonment.
  • I broke my damn foot!  Ow!

Overall, it was a year of complicated (and sometimes disappointing) life lessons.  Hopefully the new year will find me with the poise, grace and maturity of an Adult-with-a-capital-A.


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my other ride is a succubus!

Good news:  I am mobile!  As in, walking!  As in, HURRAH!

And being that I’ve spent the last three weeks cooped up in the house with nowhere to go and nothing to do (unless it involves the world of Azeroth), I spent most of the weekend jumping for joy on my not-entirely-healed-but-getting-there foot.

Saturday:  “We needa go here!  And there!  And here!  And over there!  And oh, look!  Shopping!  Movies!  Shopping!  Assembling furniture!  Rearranging furniture!  Cleaning!  There here there here there here WEEHEEEEEEEE.”

Sunday:  “Owwwwww, why does my foot hurt so much?”

Very surprised the S.O. didn’t shoot me full of tranquilizers, or better yet, break my other foot.  But no, being the wonderful S.O. that he is, he mostly just tried to keep up with me in his quiet, humble way.

In any case, it was a good weekend, full of movement.  And walking.  And did I mention the walking?  Grand.

In other exciting news, we’re getting a dishwasher.  One of those portable/convertible ones, on wheels.  This is particularly exciting because currently the only portable dishwasher in the house is yours truly (and I haven’t exactly been portable for the last few weeks!).  So, I’m being replaced by a GE Nautilus on Thursday, and we are purposely letting the dishes pile up in the sink until then, because what fun is a new dishwasher if you don’t have dirty dishes to wash?  That’s what I’m telling myself, anyhow.

Not Your Average Family Portrait
Mmm, Shiny Dead Things

And finally, it wouldn’t truly be an update unless I talked about WoW, would it?

My guild made its first attempt on Hakkar a week or so ago, and we killed him on the second try.  This was a particularly big accomplishment for us, since we’ve been running Zul’Gurub for over a year now – we can finally say we’ve cleared it.  Our recent success had us acting all, “C’mon Blizzard!  Why dontcha throw something hard our way for once, eh?  BRING IT!”

And then, there was Ragnaros.  Back to the drawing board, guild!

Meanwhile, Cyspar ventured into Dire Maul last night with a group of familiar faces:  Mom’s mage, Dad’s priest, the S.O.’s druid, a guild tank and myself.  The family that plays WoW together dies mercilessly together… many, many times.  Our objective:  To attempt Cyspar’s epic Dreadsteed quest.

Much glass chewing ensued, mostly because I’d forgotten how hard it is to run 5-man instances when you’re not outfitted in epics.  Situations that would be a piece of cake for Sheara are near-deadly for Cyspar.  It doesn’t help that I’m still not used to playing a DPS class instead of a healer – I spent most of the run watching health bars go up and down, and panicking when the tank dropped below 20%.  “Oh crap!  Gotta heal him!   Bandage, bandage, banda… oh, wait, we have a priest.  And a druid.  Right.  Throw a freakin’ shadow bolt now and again, won’t you?”

In the end, we succeeded… barely.  We survived the summoning ritual – waves upon waves of imps and big ugly demons – and defeated the dreadsteed itself, but died at the stinky feet of his ugly demon companion.  The entire thing had me shrieking obscenities at my laptop while the S.O. looked on in something that came precariously close to amusement (but he knows better than to admit it).  Thankfully we were able to run back as a group and defeat the big guy, and now Cyspar has a flaming, pointy, demon-horsey.  Rawr!

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you do not have the required proficiency for that item

Over the weekend I went to the local hospital’s walk-in clinic for a follow-up on The Foot Fiasco ™.

The good news is:  It’s not broken!  Hurrah!  Apparently the tiny line they thought was a fracture is actually my little toe’s joint.  I have weird-looking toe bones.  Go figure.

The bad news is:  I have what’s called a crush injury or contusion, and the bruise will take the same amount of time to heal.  So, I can’t ditch the crutches just yet, and I’m under strict orders to keep it wrapped, keep it elevated, keep it iced.  I really overdid it last week, so I took another day off yesterday and planted my butt firmly on the couch.

Of course, being couch-bound for another day gave Cyspar ample time to reach 60!  Hurrah!  Now she’s working on the warlock epic mount quest.

I’m so adding this shirt and these stickers to my Christmas wishlist.

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pardon, your rant is showing

*big sigh*  The whole broken foot thing was nice for the first couple days.  In the recent past I’d contemplated the idea of taking a day off just for the hell of it, and voila, a forced vacation!  Sweet, right?

Well, not really.

Cyspar not only made it to level 57, but she kept on going and reached level 58 over the weekend.  I have to say, though, that’s the most I’ve accomplished, outside of going back to work.

It is maddeningly frustrating to not just be able to hop off the couch and do something without making an ordeal of it, and even when I’m up, I’m limited as to what types of activities I can do.  Anything that involves carrying stuff is out, since both hands are usually grappling with the dreaded crutches.  Also, anything that requires standing for long periods of time is difficult… I can make it through a 10 minute shower before my right leg starts to cramp.  And stairs are only to be used in emergencies, which is great, because our bathroom at home is – you guessed it – upstairs.

True to his nature, the S.O. has been incredibly helpful, but I’m ultimately frustrated because I want to have freedom of movement again!  Also, not to have to wear a baggie over my stocking-ed foot when it rains, because I’m certain the high fashion gurus will back me up when I say Hannaford grocery bags are so not what they’re wearing in Paris these days.

My coworkers have taken to calling me “Hopalong,” which would be funny if it weren’t so true.  My 15 minute break involves crutching to the bathroom and back – down the loooong hallway, through two sets of (heavy!) fire doors, and into the tiny bathroom stall.  Thankfully the coworkers have also been great about getting lunch ready for me (yay for the 3-minute microwavable meal), or filling up my water bottle at the cooler, and they’ve managed to ask me only sixteen gajillion times “how on earth did you break your foot?”  I wish I could say I was bungee jumping in the Grand Canyon and the cord broke, while I managed to land on only one foot – the broken one – heroically saving a puppy in the process.  Unfortunately the real answer is, “I fell because I’m a klutz.”

And I do feel a bit silly about that, because only little old ladies “have a fall” and break things, right?  A few more weeks of this, though, and I’ll be shaking my crutches at strangers on the street and mumbling incoherantly to myself.  Just put me in Depends and call me Eleanor.

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a little clarification at table three, please.

Okay.  Stop the damn ride, I want off for a moment.

I may have, at one point or another, asked for something “exciting” to happen.  We all get bored with the daily grind once in a while, right?  Need something out of the ordinary to put a little spice in your life.

But when one asks for something exciting, one should perhaps be more clear about what “exciting” means to them.  Because apparently, to the powers that be, “exciting” means I will be spending the next three days planted firmly on my ass, and the next four weeks hobbling about on crutches.

So, yeah.  The S.O. and I weren’t ten minutes into a family gathering by the lake before I decided I just couldn’t take it anymore, and threw myself down a boat launch pad and broke my foot.  It’s only a small fracture, but tell that to my foot; one side turned purple and swelled up to the size of a golf ball.  Two hours in the Emergency Room, and they sent me home with a prescription for good drugs and a buddy splint.  I’m only hoping that work will understand, and allow me to work from home for a few days instead of forcing me to use what limited sick time I have.

Anyway!  In much better news, the accompanying illustration is a screenshot of Sheara standing before a really big, ugly dragon.  A really DEAD big, ugly dragon.  Wooohoo!  Prior to the foot-breakage, there was much dragon-slayage.  Sheara even picked up an 18-slot Onyxia Hide Bag.   And now that I’m stuck on the couch for a while, Cyspar will probably reach level 57 much faster than I’d originally anticipated.

I suppose there’s a silver lining to every dark cloud, no?

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