Pacifism

I’ve been levelling a druid in WoW as a pacifist–basically, I don’t kill anything.  (Well, except fish.) This involves a lot of sneaking, and a lot of corpse-running, and doing maybe 10% of the possible quests because there are really very few quests that don’t involve killing anything–and a bunch of those are part of chains that start with killing something, so no go there.

Pacifist levelling used to have a cap somewhere in the high 20s, because that was all the XP you could get from non-lethal questing and the token amount from exploration.  These days, you can in theory go all the way to 85 on XP from gathering and, if you have Cataclysm, archaeology.  Gathering from a level-appropriate node gives XP of about 1% of a level; digging up an artifact gives maybe half again as much.   And since extra herb and metal nodes were introduced, it’s rarely more than a minute or so between gathers.

It’s vastly slower, though.  Took me 3 and a half hours to get to level 5 as a pacifist; for a normal character it’s, what, 15 minutes?  I think the slowdown is getting less as I advance in level, but it’s never going to go away completely.   The upside is that two gathering professions means the character is really, really rich.

It’s kind of a neat experiment.  I don’t know if I’m going to remain interested all the way to 85–I haven’t gotten that far with any other character besides Altariel anyway–but for now it’s entertaining.

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Becoming Clear

I think I’m realizing why the former occupant of this cube wanted to move out of it.  She claimed at the time that she could smell the restroom, which is patent nonsense as the cleaning schedule is perfectly adequate; we all thought she was just being snippy about wanting her own office.

But having been here six months or so, I’m thinking perhaps that wasn’t everything.  The problem is the cube’s neighbor.

I like the person who’s in the next cube over; she’s nice enough and worth talking to.  But the woman just will not stop bitching.  There’s the My Boss Is Mean bitch, and the My Husband Doesn’t Love Me bitch, and the I Have To Work Late Periodically bitch…those are the big three, with digressions into whatever’s bugging her today.

To be fair, she does make an effort to keep things quiet; it’s not like she’s having these discussions at full volume.  Of course that means I only get about 3 words out of 5, for that lovely half-a-conversation effect.

And the thing is, she never changes anything.  It’s always the same complaints about the same topics.  I don’t love this job, but if I hated it as much as she seems to hate hers I’d get a new one or at least work on making things more bearable…

In The Air

I walked out the door this morning and realized it’s spring.

It was in the 40s, the birds were making I can make my chest big and red noises, and the air smelled like things might conceivably manage to grow again someday.

I think Phil was right this year.

It’s Been

Yeah, I know I haven’t posted in a while.  I am not going to resolve to post more often, because that kind of thing is just embarrassing when you don’t live up to it.

Thursday evening someone pounded on the door to tell us that the water main was broken and we should fill up our bathtub quickly before they turned off the water completely.  They came in the next morning and fixed it while we were at work, so it wasn’t really a huge deal except that Liam couldn’t take a shower in the morning.  All in all, kind of an anticlimax…