You know you’re a geek when…
one of the hardest decisions you’ve made has to do with a collection of words that float above your head.
And not even *your* head, but the head of an avatar.
Those of you that have faithfully followed my rantings and ramblings and ridicules and rejoicings might have noticed something.
I stopped blogging for a while.
It wasn’t intentional, it just sort of snuck up on me.
I’ll admit, this blog filled a need I had for social interaction that I was not getting in my immediate vicinity in my real life.
Ultimately, this blog led me to people I never would have met and that I am very grateful for having met, even if it didn’t always turn out the way anyone expected.
But besides my own attention-whoring ways, I started the blog to act as a bit of a journal.
I’m horrible about keeping a journal for myself, but put it in front of an audience and suddenly there is an urge to provide and perform.
(This is why they say you should share goals with people close to you instead of keeping them a secret, you’re more likely to complete them to not let the other person down instead of yourself.)
But there comes a time when you’ve said everything that can be said.
No, I’m not quitting the blog, don’t freak out just yet, all 5 of you reading this.
One of the contributing factors to the decline of my blogging, outside of RL rearing it’s ugly head, was I didn’t really have anything to talk about.
Oh, I had plenty to bitch and moan, and whine and whinge, and gripe, and groan about.
And I have certainly been know to bitch and moan, and whine and whinge, and gripe, and groan in the past, but only if I really couldn’t keep it in, I felt that someone could benefit from the shared experience, or I could put some sort of humorous twist on it.
So what then was I to do when the drama and the fail was just too deep, too personal, too ugly?
I stopped writing.
I’m sure after a few weeks straight of, “yep, wiped again FFS” people would have left with a bad taste in their mouth.
So I kept my own mouth shut and tried desperately to find the happy things to blog about, the positive experiences to share. Or at least the neutral ones (Cataclysm is a pretty safe topic, even if I do get twisted off about something).
Discontent had been brewing with me for quite some time.
Back in December of last year I considered stepping down as an officer in Shadow Rising.
I was on my way to being what most people probably consider a “hardcore” raider.
The response of the officers was to promote me to GM.
We tried different structures and expectations from the guild, but it always boiled down to the same thing: A handful of VERY skilled, VERY talented, VERY nice guys that had a lot of real life obligations and not enough of these awesome people to keep the raiding environment I was looking for afloat.
We recently absorbed another guild that we had been running 25s with, but the damage was already done I believe.
The best and brightest were either tied up in real life, burned out on WoW, engrossed in SC2, or left trying to rally the remaining lackluster troops to victory.
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them gem and spec appropriately.
Something like that.
Just not enough of the right type of people.
Shit hit the fan during the Tuesday night raid.
I had asked far too much of my raid leader over the past several months.
Another guild had been trying to recruit him for months now.
We had talked about it and I had no qualms about him leaving to a guild that better suited his goals.
But where did that leave me?
In a guild where I had no raid leader (was in the process of picking a second raid leader to help with 10s) and where I felt trapped.
The other week during a raid I ended up sitting outside after a raid of wipe after wipe after wipe of the same shit over and over, crying, “I’m not having fun any more.”
When other people have approached me about not feeling like SR was the right home for them, I’ve always given the same advice. “Do what is best for you. None of these people are paying your subscription, go where you will be happiest.”
I looked around and realized the only thing pinning me to SR any longer was a few friendships and a title.
Then I cried some more because it’s stupid to be crying about a game.
Then I cried even more because it’s not just a game.
I have made real friendships through WoW.
I met my boyfriend through this “game.”
I have spent more hours than I probably want to think about mucking about in Azeroth.
But I wasn’t happy.
I was leading a small group of people that had a lot of potential and drive and heart. My heart broke every time we couldn’t get past an encounter because someone wasn’t focusing or because the raid didn’t even get off the ground because people couldn’t be bothered to log in on time.
Something had to give.
It was either me or the guild.
Rather than destroy the guild in an attempt to bring it up to the level I wanted to be at, I chose to leave.
I woke up this morning after about 3 hours of sleep.
Found a mail from one of my officers, resigning for similar reasons.
I talked to him, convinced him to stay instead of starting over, the guild was really his to begin with.
We logged on and I passed over lead.
The hardest words I’ve had to type.
An offer had been extended to me by the same guild that had accepted Tiryal; I’ve run with these guys off an on from the Ulduar days.
I read their policies.
I filled out an application.
I think I have spent less time on job apps than I did on that guild application – and I already had been accepted.
I wish all my friends in Shadow Rising the best of luck, may they accomplish what makes them happiest in the game.
I look forward to making many new friends in Darkest Hour, may we accomplish what makes us happiest in the game.