My druid is now 69 and a half. I'll have her to 70 tomorrow, if I get online. Well, Around 62 I wanted a gnome. I have no idea what class I want though. Right now I'm stuck between a mage and a lock. I keep switching and deleting and name changing. My indecisiveness is killing me.

Every so often I need to throw at least half of everything I own away. maybe every 2 months or so. Today is one of those days. I've packed up another 3 trash bags of clothing, 2 bags of loose papers, 1 bag of shoes, and 1 bag of books away. Well, I gave them to Goodwill. I still have 3 loads of laundry to do and I need to put 4 full folders of lose paper in an archive on my computer so I can throw them out for good.

I'm glad that I'm at a point in my life where I can just throw things away. A long time ago I used to just get up and move. Leave my apartment and find another. When I was 16 I ran away from home because I wanted to go to another high school. Not because I wasn't liked enough or because the school work was too hard, but I needed to just start new. There's nothing better than just wiping the slate clean and reinventing yourself.

Sometimes I just feel the over whelming urge to throw all my books out the window. They're a large part of why I scarcely go outside and party and meet people. Then I remember that if I threw them out the window I would have to throw my computer as well. Since I'm having a horribly long affair with my computer, this is unheard of *kisses monitor*

My druid is level 64 and I have no real urge to keep leveling it. Mostly because my friends keep giving me healing gear *sigh*. I have three healers! I wanted to try something new (melee/tanking) and every time I ask for a forum or a hint as to what the hell I'm doing they give me a link to a healing thread. I will murderpickle someone.

I need a long nap and a few hundred more books to settle me down.

After finally hitting 60 on my alliance alt I decided to go to my old horde server and bring along said 60 and my 70 alliance priest. Arthas is pretty full, but PuGs are horrible. I don't know if it's just a bad luck with alliance or if I have just been coddled all my horde life. I'm going insane. I'm on vent with 4 12 year old boys who swear a handful of saggy boobs and better then tiny perky ones. I'm just gonna keep quiet on this fight.

I love how when I get all male friends I become a hardcore bitch. I enjoyed mocking people for their game play style and/or gear. In a friendly way, of course. They would laugh and tease me in return. Using the whole fear as respect thing. It worked, I'm well liked in my guild. I've come to enjoy my role as bitchy friend.

Then I joined the Ladies of WoW community and I swear... my ovaries grew back. What is it with reading all of these care bear posts about alliance/horde relations that makes me a nicer person in return? Hearing all these people talk about guild drama and player harassment makes me want to be a more respectful player. Gross! My entire guild doesn't know what to do with me. I was scolding a friend for calling another friend a shitty player:

Him: He doesn't even know how to play his mage. I carry him through arenas.
Me: Hey, you don't like it when other people call you a shitty player, so why spread the negativity. That's just a mean thing to do.
Him: Weren't you the one complaining that Beat was carrying me through our 2v2's?
Me: That's beside the point.

Right now, I'm living with my parents after my last messy break up with my ex boyfriend which included my current boyfriend. Oh what a tangled web I weave. Getting my credit card situation fixed up and happy. Going back to school. Finally being able to really figure myself out (instead of mimicking what I thought was acceptable from my ex and his friends).

One of my older sisters and my older brother are moving back in after a divorce and a break up with a lover of 5 years. Not with each other. We seem too all break up with our SO as soon as someone starts the trend. Like little domino's. The only 2 out of the 6 of us that our out of the house right now are my youngest brother and my oldest sister. Grand.

I've been taking care of my grandma, who lives down the street. She's old, racist, sexist, and just a total pain in my ass. She's also falling apart, so she needs me to drive her places and help her out of bed on off days. I really don't mind. My mom and dad are getting older too. My mother has horrible spells with her Lupus and my father is so doped up on pain medication he can't make a grilled cheese sandwich without me worrying that the place will burn down.

They've decided that since our family needs to be together right now that they will move into a 1.5 million dollar home. Personally, I don't like big houses. Especially with so many handicapped people in the house. I keep seeing all those stairs as potential broken legs and necks. Of course, it's not my money. So I'm just going along with it. The rooms are bigger than my last apartment. Which isn't saying much, Goddamn studios.

Few songs get in my head. The ones that manage to do so stay there for years and years and years.

Another all nighter. Hopefully I wont crash for 2 hours and ruin the whole plan of having a normal schedule tomorrow. I'm not even sure what kept me awake this time. Servers were down and everything seemed to be pointing to maybe going to sleep at 3am (semi normal?). Hopefully my devil cold will forgive me.

We were out with some friends and he disappeared. He knows I hate it when he does that. I always feel so awkward in groups alone. I got a text message: "Just wait a minute, you're so impatient". I laughed. Fuck that little idiot. I'm not that impatient. *Ding ding* "Oh, and stop frowning, you look adorable". God dammit, I hate these games, but I can't stop smiling. I searched without making it too obvious. *Ding ding* "I have to make this just long enough to distract you".

I looked up and all my friends were staring and cheering with signs in their hands: "Babe, marry me. I love you." I jumped up and as soon as I did he came out behind the group and our song started playing. He got down on one knee and proposed.

My older sisters came into town to visit today. They always love to put on their best clothes and strut down the mall or go to a starbucks. I follow by example, but I would rather just wear a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

They talk about the guys they're dating and the boys they're seeing on the side. Sometimes the topic changes to designer shoes and hand bags. Somewhere down the road it turns into the battle of the fake tans and hair dye.

I don't get the looks that they do. Hell, I wouldn't know what to do if I did. However, I do get the looks that are a bit more subtle. The ones I can handle. There's such a difference between:
"Hey, shorty! I know you wanna bring that sweet ass over my way" and the stutteringly shy boy that keeps trying to get a glimpse.

I'm a geek. Not in the popular retro way, the real deal. I rarely see light because of my video game addiction. I build and run websites, because I would rather be doing HTML then having a real conversation with someone. I don't do small talk. I've only had one girl friend and she could have had a penis. She was girly looking, but as soon as she opened her mouth you would have sworn she were a male trucker.

I'm a geek, but I'm not unattractive. I refuse to argue this point when people on xbox live assume that I'm 600 pounds or that I'm the spawn of a lizard/dog hybrid. I just laugh and agree. Tell them that I'm actually 700 pounds and I need a prying board to get my ass out of bed. That my voice is so high because my balls were removed back in WWII. That I have 78 little boys in my basement and I treat them like Pokemon, except for the fact that they don't get to regenerate. It's a fight to the death.

I'm Mercy and I'm a true geek.

Just try not to smile.

After the Holidays I like to weigh myself to see how much I need to lose. It's a little girly tradition that most females obsess over. I'm down with it. I get on the scale and it reads 180. I'm 125. 130 on a bad day where I just gorge. I'm not thin, but hell, I'm not fat either.

I get off the scale, stare at it. Look at my body, laugh. Move said scale about 5 times and get on it again. 100 pounds. Again, laughable. I start messing with it. Weigh a gallon of milk and such. Everything that couldn't move and I knew the weight of came out correct. Awesome, it must be fixed.

240, WTF. I ask my older brother to try it. 180, normal for him. My younger brother: 140, normal for him. My younger sister: 70. Huh...70? For a 16 year old girl who usually weighs 110? She gets on it again: 170. This scale is, not only, possessed, but it is sexist.

Ever since I broke off my four year relationship to be with someone I had just met I can't help but see a pattern. Every time something gets too real I get bored and I fish in my little barrel for fish that I've already thrown back. Maybe a shiny new one that doesn't constantly annoy me. Now with this one... I didn't like him going in. I wasn't infatuated, like I usually am. He was too cute for me. Too funny. Too well liked.

I only considered him at all when he started winking when our mutual friends weren't looking. Even then I just thought it was because I was the token girl of the group. The tomboy. The girl that the guys ask about morning wood, because (even for that brief second) they thought you had a penis. Preferably larger than theirs.

When I get them I usually become bored. I flirt, shamelessly, with people I hardly know. With people that don't even know my name, because I don't want them to appear again. I put on those pair of jeans that make my ass look great and walk in the mall alone to see how many numbers I can get.

I've been telling this one the truth though. Why I do the things I do. That I talked to other guys when I was in my past relationships. That I don't want to do that anymore, especially with him. He's different, somehow. I don't know if I like it or if I'm just afraid of not being liked by a guy.

After spending my New Years Eve inside with my boyfriend. Happy, drunk, watching every Family Guy episode and horrible movies that only we would find entertaining. I'm fond of this one. He makes me want to be prettier and smarter. Not to impress him or his friends, but because I just want to be a better version of myself. I have a new found confidence that I don't want to let go of just yet.

Warcraft has been the enemy and lover of my little gamer life. I've both wanted to strangle and make love to it, possibly at the same time. I've finally taken a week or two off since I've started playing three years ago. Now I can constantly look at my pathetic life in plastic form. I have a paladin that is more than decently geared, however, I hate her class. I've always hated Paladins (like most people). I'm a priest at heart. However, both my 70 priests have sub par gear. Which means I'll probably play again. Grinding away for digital clothes that I'll learn to despise later on.

I had brushed off the idea of a custom action figure until I saw the latest Penny Arcade comic.

I feel your pain.

I haven't used an LJ for over... 3 years. I'm still a bit shocked at how much has changed. However, the BOOBIES!! guy is still around. I remember when he was just a strong annoyance that was banned from most comic threads. Now he has a huge following *head desk*.

I just found out they're making a Sex in the City movie. Is there really anymore that needs to be said about four slutty chicks in a big city? I think not. What the hell, lets put it on the big screen.




Ah, wait. A white dress is involved. That's something I'll wait to see on quicksilverscreen.com

    I decided to open up the bar, officially. With such a different choice of life-style and career choice I've decided to change my name. Not legally. Not yet, anyway. However, I enjoy the name "Mercy". Whether it be a first or last name, I have yet to figure out. My life has started off so differently and tragically from other children that when I think about it, I can't help but realize that this is why I'm in a stand-still right now.
    Goals of mine have never been that different or even radical in thought. I wanted to save the world. I wanted to find someone and help them and have the satisfaction of saving someones life. I wanted to be a doctor or a nurse. A police officer or a fire fighter. I wanted to be all of these heroes, but could never find the passion that I found while singing and making music.