I apologize for being so quiet, friends, but I took an arrow to the knee.
Oh wait, wrong game. I’ve been deep in the embrace of Star Wars: The Old Republic since mid-December. Will be back as soon as I get to 50 with my Imperial Agent.
For those who are local and heading to the RBC tonight, I’ll be Section 123 so come say hey. Game recap and so forth will be posted on the morrow, after I get home from work.
Let’s hear it for rockin’ the graveyard shift. Go Canes.
Release date unannounced. New features like Level 80 (Woohoo, more grinding!), siege warfare (battlegrounds will never be the same again), NEW CHARACTER DANCES (YES! I no longer have to watch my hunter dance like the French Britney Spears!), new dungeons to explore, and we’ll finally get to see the icy continent of Northrend (home of Arthas the Lich King). I’m such a tourist, I totally geeked out on the idea of new areas to explore. I mean, I’m the person who went along on a Molten Core raid with NO fire resistance AT ALL…just because I wanted to see what it looked like. I’m also the person who tried to get some of her guildies to form a raid group JUST so I could get into Magtheridon’s Lair solo to check it out for myself. And yes, I died horribly both times. I also took advantage of a couple of environmental glitches to get into Hyjal to see where Archimonde bought it in Warcraft III–and got tut-tutted by a GM, who jokingly offered to teleport me into the middle of Blackwing Lair so I could satisfy my curiosity (I think that GM wound up getting fired by Blizzard for actually having a mind of his own and saying something other than “Works as intended, thank you for playing World of Warcraft!”)
Yes, I’m a geek and damn proud of it. I haven’t been this excited about something since Command and Conquer 3 came out (KANE LIVES)!
Off to level my Draenei shammy. See ya on Azeroth!
OK, so I got tagged by The Chief. Topic: My Five Favorite Songs
Man…I don’t think any song after 1991 or so is on this list.
5) Waiting For The Great Leap Forward, by Billy Bragg. Yes, I like Billy Bragg. Yes, I know he sometimes sounds like a braying donkey when he sings. I don’t care–he can still put together a good ‘un, and this song has been one of my favorites since I first saw the video for it in high school (though the “updated” lyrics that BB uses now just don’t flow for me). What will you do when the war is over, tender comrade?
4) Walking In Your Footsteps, by The Police. I’ve always been a huge fan of this group, and for some reason every time I make a mix CD for my car this song winds up on it (along with a random selection of its mate from Synchronicity).
3) In A Big Country, by Big Country. Maybe it’s the way that Stuart Adamson and Bruce Watson made their guitars skirl like bagpipes. Maybe it’s because the video was cool in its very 80′s British Invasion way. Who knows? All I know is that it’s my third-favorite song. Rest easy, Stuart.
2) For What It’s Worth, by Buffalo Springfield. A very young Stephen Stills and Neil Young sportin’ sideburns that The Mighty Forslund would kill for. Gotta love the 60s.
1) Marry The Sea, by New Model Army. I’d comment about why I love this song so much, but it’d be sad and mopey and nobody needs to see what’s left of my dignity roont like that.
Man, who to tag?
Golbez (whenever he comes back from vacation)
Mike Sundheim, (note: I don’t expect him to really do this, for reasons which when you click the link must be all too obvious–but he’s more than welcome to comment here)
Tag! See you guys in a week when the boss comes back from vacation and I can go back to having some free time again.
My weekend started Friday morning at 2:00, when I was awakened by the foghorn sound of the alarm on my cell phone.
It ended about an hour and a half ago when I came staggering through the door and got mobbed by all four of my cats, who (in between demands that I pet them) claimed that my husband mistreated them horribly and beat them constantly while I was gone.
Con artists, all of ‘em. And that’s just the Wirtz family! Badum-bum.
I hit the road a half-hour later than I wanted to, at 4:30 AM–and I had to make a 10-mile detour to my husband’s place of ork so that he could whine about how much he would miss me terribly while I was in Columbus–but I made phenomenally good time, getting to Columbus right around noon.
The drive itself was pretty good–I love driving through the Appalachians, especially in early summer and especially early in the morning when the mist isn’t quite burned off yet. The I-77/81 corridor in Southwest Virginia is always my favorite part of any trip to that part of the country, if for no other reason than the cat-and-mouse game that so many drivers play with the Wythe County Sheriff’s Department. Wythe County is known as a giant speed trap, and the deputies use decoy cars and clever hiding spots to nab unsuspecting speeders–especially those with out of state plates like mine. Good thing I remembered to tap the brakes a few times right before I got to the top of the hill overlooking Wytheville!
Got to the hotel and met up with my friends Amy and Lisa, who came down from Michigan for the Draft, and we checked into the ‘otel. I’d elected to leave the jersey at home–for some reason I just didn’t feel it appropriate. Of course, I also left my red hat at home too–which was kinda annoying, especially since I didn’t realize I’d left it at home until I was crossing the Ohio River. DOH!
After chillin’ with Lisa and Amy and having a good (and cheap) lunch at the nearest Waffle House, it was off to the Arena for me.
Jackets fans, y’all have a pretty spifftastic barn by the way. Very nice looking place–but MAN do y’all have some hellacious one-way street action in your downtown! I thought Raleigh was lousy with one-ways, until I got to C-bus. Wow. I tried to find a parkplatz, and realized something:
In my excitement over being in a new town, I apparently forgot how to drive. That’s right, I almost turned into oncoming traffic on a two-way and cut across three lanes of traffic in downtown not once but five times. If you were driving around Columbus and got cut off by a beat-up brown Cavalier with an NC plate referencing a certain Big Czech Defenseman, that was me.
I also got lost a couple of times, but we won’t discuss that. Bloody one-way streets and exits on the left….
The blogmoot was pretty fun. I went walking into the BLAP after coming up from downstairs, and I walk past this unassuming cat sitting in the corner with a laptop bag on the table in front of him. Journalist, I thought.
Then I saw the kepi. I turn around and come on back.
Army of Ohio?
Hi, I’m the Acid Queen.
I sat down and we started rappin’. Then Drew showed up. Then a couple other folks showed up (Truthspeaker–one of the Jackets folks–and Kevin, who reads more than blogs), and we were off to the races!
So we’re all chillin’ in the corner, when this guy who looked like an exhausted (but tanned!) Tony Soprano comes walking past us. He looks around the corner, and then comes back towards us. “I’m looking for a guy who calls himself Tapeleg.”
Then I see the media cred around his neck.
Tapeleg’s not here yet Eric, but you’re welcome to come grab a seat.
Lemme tell you; for a cat with a Celtic surname, Eric McErlain looks more Italian than I do. Bada-bing!
Then Tapeleg showed up with his lovely lady friend Meg in tow, followed shortly thereafter by Greg Wyshynski and Emperor Paul I.
While we were all hangin’ out, we heard about the Vokoun trade. Hello, Major League anyone? And to FLORIDA, no less? I mean, I like Vokoun and all–BUT NOT IN MY GODDAMN DIVISION! Man. The talk about the trade led to talk about the on-again off-again (and hopefully off-except-to-local-investors) sale of the Preds, which led to talk about Charlotte vs. Raleigh–and boy, did I have fun explaining to Greg why it’s impossible to compare Charlotte with Raleigh when it comes to fan support for a team.
The festivities broke up about 6:30ish, and we all went meandering into the arena. I parked with Tapeleg and Meg upstairs in 312–and we camped next to two of the most annoying-ass Blues fans I have ever encountered. And drunk? Oh man were they hammered! And of course, after about pick five or six one of them went out to the concourse and honked all over himself–which I didn’t see, but I did smell it when he came back in the section sans jersey. Can’t hide the heady aroma of booze-yack that easily, yanno. Between those two losers and Annoying Blackhawks Fan, I think I’d take Annoying Blackhawks Fan–at least he kept his yelling to a minimum (though I did get a chuckle out of Tapeleg when Bettman said “Chicago, you are on the clock” and I belted out a lusty ALEXANDROOOOV!)
BUT! The one thing more annoying than the Booze fans–who were finally escorted out by the securebots after the 10th pick or so–were the Blue Jackets fans that kept howling acclamatory phrases down toward the TSN setup where former CBJ GM Doug McLean was camped with Bob McKenzie and James Duthie. Yes, DM(F)GMHCP knows the Jackets Nation hates him–but please, we’re kinda trying to hear what’s being said if you don’t mind.
Apres Round 1, there was to be an afterparty of sorts at the Hyatt–I was there before anyone else (so I missed seeing Yzerman get booed by the Jackets fans when it was Detroit’s turn to pick), and I was chillin’ with a Diet Coke when I started to get on the nods thanks to the combination of my back meds and the wearing-off of the adrenalin in my system…and no way was I going to conk over around my fellow bloggers, because with my luck I’d have woken up dressed in a Red Wings jersey with I HEART CHRIS CHELIOS XOXOXO tattooed on my forehead or something and the picture would be the header for Abel to Yzerman by now. Them bloggers, they’s some sneaky folks. Can’t trust ‘em, I say! (just kidding, of course.) So I went back to my hotel and zonked until about 8:00 AM or so.
Saturday was pretty laid-back for me. I opted out of Rounds 2 and on because I wanted to see The Cup more. It’s a ritual for me: Every Draft I go to, I go see The Cup. Pay my respects to the spirits, say a prayer, and leave. I went and stood on line with my little camera in hand, and saved the last picture on the roll for the names of the 05-06 Champs.
Driving home was a little anticlimactic, in a way. I was tired because I’d had little sleep on Thursday night or Friday night, so I was more interested in getting home than I was in sightseeing–and I wound up having to pull off the road a few times so I could grab a catnap. But I am of course home now, which is good.
I’ll be back in the saddle sometime tomorrow. See y’all next year in Ottawa.
….well at 4:00 AM, anyway.
Tomorrow at this time I’ll be heckling Annoying Blackhawks Fan as he tries to tell the Hawks’ scouting staff who to pick, quacking at the Red Wings fans (like I did in 2003–man, was that ever fun), and generally chillin’ out.
A little news before I go, courtesy of my boy Luke DeCock at the N&O:
And that’s it–I’ll pry find some laptop somewhere and make a post from C-bus. Either that, or I’ll just take a metric assload of notes and post ‘em up here when I get home Sunday morning.
See y’all in C-bus.
Before I blow an artery spraying yet more bile and invective about Versus and the completely craptacular way they handled the Awards show tonight (Aside to Vinny Lecavalier: tell your girlfriend to stop shoving her fingers down her throat and eat a sammich every now and then willya?), I’m going to turn myself to something more fun–like the Draft:
Looks like I’ll have to leave the trojniak at home–either that or leave it in my hotel room, take your pick–cos somehow I don’t think I’ll be able to smuggle the bottle into the Gnat. The cork-popping sound would kinda give things away.
See y’all next weekend.
So Michael Turner from Army of Ohio and Drew from End of the Bench are planning a blogmoot for Barbarossa Day (that’d be 22 June), and being the sociable sort that I am I’ll be putting in an appearance.
Bring yer friends, bring yer neighbours, bring yer riot gear. I’ll be showing up with a bottle or two of fine Bernardynski and a beisbol bat with which to beat down any uppity Sabres fans, with some appropriately obnoxious techno music blasting from my speakers.
Here’s a link to Michael’s Guide to Columbus and the Draft. Go check it out, and leave an RSVP in the comments.
See y’all later this month.