Confessions of a Closet Nerd

slowly making my way out…

OoC: Why I Quit My (second) Job.

Out of Character is a common role playing (RP) term used when a player is just that, out of character.  And while I’d love to be a troll that does have the awesome ability to throw fireballs at the opposition, that ain’t all that I’m about.   These blogs will be based on life outside of Azeroth and beyond the glowing pixels and conjured mana cakes.  

I did it.

I finally did it.

I quit my retail job.

I’d been debating doing it for quite sometime now, but I don’t know if it was just the holidays getting to me or that I finally decided to put my foot down and be done.

Quick background.  Girl graduates college, girl moves home, girl gets an entry level retail job selling primarily denim in a retail environment.  Girl loves said job and quickly becomes Assistant Manager of her store.  Girl gets a Personal Training gig and decides to move on because with a commute and odd hours it wouldn’t be feasible to do.   About 5 years later girl returns to retail job as an entry level sales person and the company is a teeny bit different as far as what they call “selling culture” is concerned but girl still loves job and the people she works with.

Unfortunately and fortunately, thanks to betrayal from past friends and lovers, I know when a relationship is going to be a not-so-good one.  Things were getting completely out of control as far as how I was being treated in regards to keeping me in the loop as far as scheduling goes.  I was also getting shifts were I was mostly put in charge of recovering the store (ie: cleaning) which I do enjoy a lot but on the same coin being told that my sales were struggling at times as a result of that.  I’d requested to be scheduled for busier times of the day to counterbalance that and my requests are thrown to the wayside.  I’d sat with our District Manager and my Manager in a meeting to get things out in the open as far as how I was feeling, and apparently that got thrown to the wayside as well.  I mean, I’m literally running myself ragged to make a few dollars on the side when my gym job is a little slow and getting on average 4-5 hours of sleep a night in doing so.

I’ll preface the next paragraph with this, I do and did enjoy what I was doing.  And I was and still am, very thankful that in the struggling Southern California job market that I had another job to afford me buying random crap and the occasional latte.  But this was something that went on for over a year and actually began to cost me money in gas and lost hours at gym job.  Plus, when I wasn’t a happy camper.  Not.  One.  Bit.

It all came to a head when what would turn out to be my final shift, I’d taken a peek at the calender almost by accident.   A later shift of mine had mysteriously disappeared on it and anyone that knows me will tell you that when it comes to scheduling my life, I’m on top of it.  I know where I’ve got to be and when like the back of my hand, so someone had apparently changed the schedule.  Again.  And not informed me.  Again.  And had I not  looked at the schedule I’d have showed up after battling holiday traffic and the crazies in the parking garages for nothing.  Again.  I don’t get how in this day and age with texting, emailing, smoke signals and the good ‘ole fashion seven digit method you can’t get in touch with someone to inform them that scheduling has been changed.   Again.  This was a common occurrence, along with other neglect and overall treating associates like they should strictly be focused on SELL, SELL, SELL, SELL, SELL rather than living and breathing human beings at retail job and I’m sorry, that is unacceptable.  There should be and there has to be a balance between the two and honestly it ain’t that darn difficult to do!

So I did it.  I was done.

Now where do I go from here?

Well, now I have free time to explore what I’m really passionate about again, Community Management.  It is my ultimate goal for 2012 and a field that I’m really gnawing at the bit to get into.   Pre-all of this, I’d been networking a tiny bit with folks on Twitter and on Warcraft blogs and now I’ll further delve into it so that I can make it happen and hopefully very soon.  Its a field that I’m very confident that I’ve got the basic skill-set for  I’ve just got to get out there more and acquire some of the deeper “stuff” for.   So if any of you out there in the internets are reading this and know anyone looking for a fledgling CM, please drop my name in passing.  I’d love the opportunity and I’ve got afternoons free!

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Filed under: In Real Life, Lore, OoC, Thoughts and Impressions, , ,

LORE: Meeting the Fay-family.

The Queen.

Name:Fayona
Class/Spec: Fire wielding, booty dancing Mage.
Professions: Tailoring and Jewelcrafting.
Hobbies: Collecting RP gear and hanging out in her Dalaran apartment in search of suckers that need ports. Fishing up Fathom Eel and Highland Guppy to sell to suckers on the AH for inflated prices. Farming Anzu. Dressing in RP gear and waiting in redonkulous DPS ques. Deciding whether its advantageous and/or fashionable to show her helm or let her trollish hair lookin’ oh so silky smooth. Figuring out which pet to match with her raiding or RP gear. Being a tasteful sass monster during raids.
Quotes: “Oh, I can twerk it. Would you like to see me werk it?! I can do that damn thang in a handstand.” “It’s not strudel.. its cake. And you’re welcome.” “You guys are a bunch of donkeys!”
Random Fact: Previously was a belf named, Faelara until she spied some lame warlock named Faeleara. Shit then got real. Voted “Most Likely to Fill Void Storage First.”

The shy one.

Name: Fayyaza
Class/Spec: Face melting, shadowy apparition struttin’ Priest and occasionally throwing some healing glittery stuff at people.
Professions: Enchanting and Jewelcrafting.
Hobbies: Disenchanting the random crap that the rest of ‘dem Fay girls send to me to throw on scrolls and put into your local AH. Suckers.
Quotes: “Dey jus’ usin me for mah ‘chants, mon.” “Why does ‘da fam need two of ‘dem ‘dere JC’s, mon? Et don’t make a nickle worth a sense attall.”
Random fact:Used to be an undead priest whilst on Greymane named Joanrivaz. Later race changed to troll and name changed to Blurple before finally being renamed Fayyaza in a rage of OCD.


The Cocky One.

Name: Faytorade
Class/Spec: Base assaulting, rebuking, Hammer of Justice slamming, PvE and PvP Holy Paladin.
Professions: Blacksmithing and Alchemy.
Hobbies: Being belf-a-licious and cute, spamming /lol, /bored and /facepalm at PvP suckers while kiting them across entire battlegrounds. Sitting in redonkulously short healing ques and snatching up satchels to send to Fayona in hopes of the Anzu mount in exchange for Mageweave shirts to match her gear. Attempting to collect the rest of the Vicious set before the new PvP season starts. Deciding which hairstyle compliments her shield the best, a pony tail or the bun.
Quotes: “GG, son!” “Everyone wants a sip!” “CAP THAT SHIT!” “Anyone wanna do some 2s for points?”
Random fact: Used to be a dude.

The Half-Dead One.

Name: Fayvorable
Class/Spec: PvE DW Frost DK.
Professions: Engineering.
Hobbies: Overcoming DK stereotypes yet still spreading filthy diseases and decay. Pwning the DPS meters until pending nerfs. Staring aimlessly and speaking in party chat only in faces. For example: o.o, o.O, O.O. Interrupting because the fail rogue in the party forgot his kick button in his other pants. /sighing that the other melee in our group for getting LOLPWNED by easily avoidable damage.
Random fact:Was going to be a troll until it was realized that the cute plate Uggs look way cuter on belfs than trolls. AND WHAT?!

The Farmer.

Name: Faytima
Class/Spec: Boomer, Resto, Herber, Orer.
Professions: Mining and Herbalism.
Hobbies: Never leaving flight form unless its to dig. Tossing a hurricane on gold farmers in Twighlight Highlands, Uldum and various parts of Azeroth and snatchin’ they herbs and ores up. Y’all are so dumb, fo’ Real.
Quotes: “CAW, CAW..CAW!”
Random fact: Accidently sold Relic of Eonar because I mistook it for a Mote of Life.

The Lost One.

Name: Faylina
Class/Spec: Affliction Warlock.
Professions: Herbs and Transmutation Alchemy.
Hobbies: Being neglected. Fat Truegold Procs.
Quotes: “Anyone need an Xmute?” “My Xmute is up!” “OHSHI, THAT WAS A FAAAAAAAT PROC!”
Random fact: My bars aren’t even set up to dps.

And there you have it! The 85s in the Fay-family. There are also lower level Fays that will be levelled soon, I’m sure. Fayzilla, currently a level 60 rogue that mainly PvPs. And when I say PvPs, I mean she just runs around sapping people and getting that last shot in. We’ve also got Faybulous, currently a level 50 something hunter chillin’ with her pet “YouSoFancy” in Un’goro Crater. And lastly Faymous, an Enhance/Resto shaman.

And yes, any toon I make is Fay-insertsomethingwittyorsuitablehere . Why? Because in the Warcraft world I find it easier to identify with it come an alt run or a pug. I mean hell, its easy and kind of fun to see what sort of silliness you can come up with.  And yes, I LOVE me some trolls.

Filed under: Lore

/LORE: The Nerd Emerges

The stereotypical 80s version of the nerd consists of pocket protector, pale skin, glasses, access and knowledge in regards to technology that baffles the minds of friends, family and probably government establishments alike. They were rumored to live in the deep depths of their parents basement or holed up in their light deprived bedrooms where they spend most of their days and nights avoiding social interaction to play obscure games, chat on via underground clients or hacking their way into the hearts of their cohorts by making their way into the backend of their school’s operating system to muck up a few grades here and there.

I was never that nerd.

Hell, to be honest I don’t think I’m that nerd now.  But I digress.

As kids, my brother and I definitely played the hell out of video games.  We got our first Nintendo for Christmas when I was 8 and we were definitely hooked.  I mean, we had it bad.  Like to the point to where our parents would literally take every cord, controller and game and lock them in separate areas of their bedroom so that they controlled when we played.  But that never stopped us because all of our neighbors had the same cords, controllers and games that we did and you bet your sweet ass we’d bribe them with Now-and-Laters and Otter Pops to use theirs for the week or until we found out where ours were.  And when that didn’t work, we went to our friend’s houses and stayed there until the street lights came on playing and laughing until dinner was finished or we had to be ran off to a track or basketball practice or some school social event.

That went on for years until we got our first computer which was quite literally our neighborhood’s first computer. If I remember correctly, it was a Windows 3.0 based something-or-other that had a 33.k dialup modem, that of course my parents had no idea to use.  So naturally, my brother and I delved into tinkering with it and played Minescape and learned to dial-up and wait for what seemed like days to load up AOL chats, zMuds and mIRC clients.  We trolled and chatted and lol’d and killed our way into getting a padlock slapped on the side of the computer’s hutch.  “For school work only,” read the piece of paper my Mom slapped on the front of the hut with a huge red arrow pointing to the lock.  And we lol’d at that damn lock too and picked the living hell out of it when both of my parents were at work.

Then something changed.  Both my brother and I got involved pretty heavily in sports and we were sort of pulled away from our world.  We played on occasion, but not with that desperate vigor that we did before.  I went away to college and slowly began to re-discover the zMuds and began to reconnect with IRC here and there but all in all I was too busy to really enjoy it as I did before.   I’d still join new irc channels to download new albums and talk to my friends, waste time browsing livejournal and play the occasional game of Diablo and Oblivion, but not like before.

And then it happened.

About 5 years ago, some stupid boy broke my heart into a million little pieces, which is another story of trauma self-awareness and victory that I won’t really get into.  I had always heard of this game World of Warcraft and read the many stories of how it makes you a drooling nerdball and you become totally socially inept and irresponsible.  But I’d never really played it and never had any interest in playing it because I’m pretty damn cool.  Ex-college athletes and especially perfectly socially conditioned people muchless GIRLS don’t play Warcraft!   But I saw a copy of this on my friend, Jin’s, desk and of course I made fun of him and called him a nerd and sniggered and watched him play over his shoulder to all hours of the night.  I became fascinated with the game from afar, but never had the courage to play it myself because that’d be just silly.

And then my head exploded.

And I did it.  I made him let me play.  I rolled a Blood Elf hunter (steeeeeeereotype) around the summer of 2008 because that’s what noobs do and named her Uhlissuh, a variant of my name.  I didn’t tell not one soul that I was playing WoW and every day after work I’d go over to his house and play WoW until my eyes were heavy with sleep.  I enjoyed it.  I enjoyed throwing a Hunters Mark on a creature in Stranglethorn and mentally imagining it was the guy that dumped me and ripping it to pixelated shreds.  And then skinning it!  I had little to no idea what I was doing but it was fun!  I joined a small guild on the Greymane server and just enjoyed levelling…al l of that old nerd came bubbling to the top.

The sad part?  Other than the folks I play WoW with in game and Jin, no one knows that I play.  Well and the occasional person that notices my key-chain authenticator and scoffs at WARCRAFT emblazoned on it.  And you wonder why I don’t share this with people?  Something I’m kinda sorta passionate and enjoy doing as much as I did playing college basketball and any other “normal” hobbies that I do?

Until now.

So I guess what this post is for me is just as the blog is titled, confessions of my closet nerdiness.  And for the first time in a long time, I’m comfortable with the fact that I play Warcraft because most of my friends can attest that I’m a semi-normal person.  Well, other than being 6-foot-3 and female, but I’m okay with that too.

Filed under: Lore, , ,

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