Oh if there were ever a time for a dandy of a fart joke, NOW would be the time to use it!

So, I logged myself into Vana'diel last night after a rowdy round of "Fake Run 5 Miles on an Eliptical Machine That Makes you Look Silly", and there I was, face to face with my character. He was wearing his Dragoon duds and proudly displaying that precious Dark Mezraq. He yearned for the expizzles. Who was I to deny him his expizzles? Surely, I'm the Grand Creator, and the one holding the strings, but his will subverts mine own, and /glee into the game once again I must!

It was fun again.

After not having the motivation or the time to drag myself into Vana'diel to bother with my troublesome (yet utterly sexxeh) Dragoon-self, I got the burning sensation in my macro fingers. It was a great party (PLD, DRG, THF, RDM, SCH, BRD) with some exceptional XP gainz and I remembered how much I miss the feeling of being part of a well oiled and graceful exp machine. The careful and powerful dance of the /ja and the /ws. the glorious explosion of musical notes as a Bard song inspires the troops to drive weapon into foe, the masterful position and execution of the Sneaky Tricky Attack! /jump /jump /jump, /spear /spear /spear, and kapow: Expz.

Not having the burden of running a shell anymore really does free my mind to enjoy the game again on a simple personal level. I do miss rallying the troops, and inspiring them to achieve great things, and all the wonderful accolades and pats on the back. But it was so much work. So much organization and accounting for differences in personality and opinion and having to put feet down, and being firm and all those things associated with ripe watermelon.

Basically: Here I come, Dragoon 75!

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