Look! Up in the sky!

It’s a bird.

It’s a plane.

It’s an orc with a gun!

I stopped grinding mobs for money and drops, and tried just straight questing — OH MY GOD! I made 95 gold in 2 hours! I was getting 7-12gp per quest — and some were so easy.

I love the flying mount! I got the blue wyvern. I can imagine how much easier questing for gold is going to be now with flying. Now that xp from killing doesn’t matter, flying right up to the quest goal, grabbing/killing it, and flying away is going to mean lots of money for me, now.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I used to always get my hair cut by the same person for years at a time. The only time I ever changed my barber/hairstylist (or whatever they’re called now) was when I moved or they moved. I’ve had about 6 regular barbers in my life, and maybe 6 other one-timers, until lately.

I like being able to walk in, sit down and not have to explain anything. I like consistency, and I like being able to close my eyes and doze in the chair. (It’s usually the only nap I get in a month.) My best barbers are those who realize early that I’m not much on small talk in the chair, and if they just let me sit quietly to think or doze, they get a good tip.

Lately, however, I’ve been going to a spot that just opened a few months ago very near my home. (About 200 yards, near.) Unfortunately, in the four times I’ve been there, I’ve had a different barber every time. Fortunately, they record my choice of length so everyone knows how much I want my hair cut. This record, combined with the convenience of being able to show up at any time by just walking from my home is what gets me to put up with having a different barber every time. No appointment is necessary, and I’ve never had to wait more than maybe five minutes for a chair.

The thing they don’t record in my “customer log,” though, is my hairstyle. And there in lies the funny: I don’t have a hairstyle. My hair does what it does, and I never give it a thought on a daily basis. I wash my hair in the shower, dry it off with a towel, run my fingers through it to make sure nothing is sticking up, and then I’m done. It might look slightly different each day, especially depending on how long it’s getting.

A new barber always asks me about how I like it styled. They usually ask based on how it’s “styled” at the moment they’re looking at it, but they don’t realize that I never know how it’s “styled” until they comment on it. I just don’t think about my hair—it’s still there, in full, so I’m happy and content without giving it any attention. And what the barbers never know, and I never tell them, is that as soon as I walk out their door with my new cut, I tend to run my hands through my hair. It’s a habit, but it feels good, and it breaks up the “perfect look” they comb and brush into it.

I had one barber, several years ago, chastise me for putting a cap on my head after the haircut. I had been wearing the cap when I came in, and so naturally I just put it back on when about to walk out.

“You know,” she said politely, and with a little mirth, “that usually insults your hairstylist, especially right after she does your hair.”

“But,” I countered, a little embarrassed, “I wore it in.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Okay.”

We both paused a few moments, and then I took my cap back off.

I liked that barber (she knew me and let me nap in her chair), so out of respect, I never wore a cap to her store. But I still ran my fingers through my hair and mussed up my do every time I left her store, once I was around the corner and safely out of sight.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I’ve been hunting (mostly demons) in Shadowmoon Valley for money to buy my flight training and mount. Upon attaining level 70, I had only 650 gold, and I’ve now built up to over 800 gold—I need just 100 more to fly.

There’s a quest in Shadowmoon Valley, in the Son’s of Oronok chain, that sent me to find a rotten arokkoa egg. There’ve been a lot of really funny quests in Outland, and this one is another. You have to look around in the arokkoa area and find rotten eggs on the ground. You open the egg to see if you can take the egg for the quest. The funny part is that the egg gives you a nauseating affliction that causes damage over time. And occasionally, while suffering from the sickness, you freeze up and throw up glowing green vomit. Hilarious! My character actually stops, crouches over, holds his stomach, and spews for a few seconds. That’s attention to detail.

I want to eventually get a dragon flying mount, so I learned what I had to do for that. I have to build rep with the Netherwing faction. So I figured, while I’m grinding for money, I can be grinding rep with Netherwing. I went to the Netherwing Fields and got the first quest in the Netherwing rep chain: kill flayers, get their carcass (a drop), and feed the Netherwing dragons.

After collecting a bunch of carcasses, I went out into the open and dropped a carcass. In the sky of Netherwing Field are many level 69 (elite) dragons. That’s scary at first, but apparently the are too high to aggro on anyone on the ground. After dropping a carcass, one of the flying dragons dives down and lands beside you. It eats the carcass, thanks you, and flies away. (I’m assuming they thanked me; it was in a language I don’t understand.)

Unfortunately, the second quest in the chain requires flying up to and talking to a boss dragon. So I need a flying mount before I can continue. Crap. So much for doing two processes at the same time.

Oh well. I should have my flying mount soon, as grinding in Shadowmoon Valley can earn me about 20 gold per hour.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Yesterday afternoon I took the boys to the park, and afterward, for dinner, I took them to the Golden Corral buffet. It’s been a long time since we’ve been to GC—I used to take the boys there for a dinner once every few weeks or so. We haven’t been since the near-3 year old sat in a highchair.

GC is great for a family with diverse tastes. Everyone can find something they want (even if none of it is the best in its class), you can get the food immediately, and you can get as much of it as you want—I can easily get fruits and vegetables in the boys because there’s a large selection to choose from.

I used to have to push the younger boy around in his highchair (or pick him up and carry him), back and forth from the table and buffet counter. This time both boys walked and carried their own plates to the buffet with me. The older got his own food from the counter, but I still had to serve the little guy—but he managed to carry a plate full of food without dropping anything.

The most fun thing about going to GC is taking the boys to the dessert buffet. It’s like walking into the living room on Christmas morning to them: all the sweets they could possibly imagine, and more they’ve never seen, all spread out on a long counter. The 6 year old made sure to look at and consider every single dessert, but the 2 year old immediately pointed to a chocolate cake with chocolate icing and said, “I want that!”

I put a slice of cake on the 2 year old’s plate, but the 6 year old was still considering the selection. He knew he was only going to get one item [probably], so he wanted to make sure he got the absolute best thing. Me, I got two things, but I announced my second choice was “for us to share.” I knew probably neither of the boys would want to try what I got to share. (Yeah, I’m that devious when it comes to dessert.)

Eventually we took our treasures back to the table and ate them. Surprisingly, the 6 year old wanted more food. He went back and got two more slices of pizza. Good gracious, but the boy put away some food. He’s only 60 pounds (normal for his age and height), but he ate more than I did: 4 [small] slices of pizza, some pear slices, a heap of pineapple chunks, some carrots, and a chocolate cupcake. (Granted, I probably matched his intake counting my extra dessert.)

The dinner was fun. It’s easier now that I don’t have to handle a highchair at the table, and clean up is much easier than at home: toss a couple bucks on the table and walk away. God bless waitresses and busboys.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com