Family, but not always family friendly

What’s that saying…you can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family?  Or maybe it’s something about you can pick your friends and you can pick your friend’s, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose?

I don’t know about that last one.  I’m not really about to try that.  Certainly not with Mordrius.  Who knows what that feather brain has stashed up his nose…beak.  Whatever.

I do believe there is something to be said about the ability to make relationships with people that you sometimes only see through an avatar on a screen.  A relationship that blurs the line between online and offline before blowing it up, laughing at it, tossing more gasoline on it, and roasting hot dogs over the fire of what used to be the thought of “They’re not real friends.”

Our raid last night spent a lot of time during and after talking about how we all knew it other or how long we’d been together.  Some people have been raiding together since Vanilla.  Others, myself included, found each other in Burning Crusade.  The majority of our core group really came together in Wrath of the Lich King.  The way we interact, it’s pretty easy to tell…or mistake that we’re al married to each other.  😀

Phoenix from the Ashes has been my home since mid/late Burning Crusade.  I’ve been healing for them in one form or another (Priest, to Shaman, to Druid) since Karazhan.  Even when I had no clue what I was doing or how to do it, the leaders have always challenged me and, for lack of a better term, awakened the healing beast within.  I think I’ve found a way to excel with every healer I’ve tried with their raiding teams.  It’s their bad luck that they’re just stuck with the Druid now.  They’ve also assured me that that is perfectly fine.

They’ve been there for me after a breakup bad enough to drive me off the server.  They’ve been there for when I had the courage to come back to the server to try to enjoy myself again.  They’ve been there through the beginnings of my marriage (the courting, the marriage, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the woo hoo!), through the out of game medical crud, through our family’s (for lack of a better term for it) BS that’s been going on since August.  Our officers are some of the first people I talk to each day, aside from my husband.  (Boy that sounds extremely creepy when I type it out.)  Most of us have finally met in person, crashed at each other’s houses, have each other on speed dial, find ourselves texting memes, photos, jokes/puns to daily, and have become the people we celebrate and mourn life with.

So yes, you can pick your family.  And I will always be grateful that Phoenix from the Ashes has become mine.  I love that the majority of people that come to our halls find themselves in the same boat as I with these people.

Thanks for letting me be your healer…and letting me write about how you smell to a Worgen. >.>

When Blurtings are Accurate

You know when you blurt something out in the heat of the moment and not two seconds later, it comes to pass?

So there I am, healing my fur off in Hellfire Citadel.  We’ve cleared out the bottom bosses.  We’re looking at new baddies that reside upstairs.  We’re throwing arcane missiles, moon fire, wrath bolts, lightning, dazzling holy light, bullets, claws, swords, pretty much everything at Fel Lord What’s his face while Grommash acts like an awkward orc cheerleader in the background.  I’m dancing in and out of fel circles, dodging purple boomerangs and running around miniature fel mountains…

When our main tank Dereus says “Can I throw Mord at him?”  Mord being the other tank.

I kid you not, two seconds later, Mord explodes and Fel Lord What’s his Face falls over dead.

I guess sometimes, all you really need to do is throw a tank at the boss.