By Angela Rowland– June 5, 2012
A year ago I wrote a blog, my first appearance in this on-line gaming community, to admit my admiration for the camaraderie and genuine encouragement found even amidst competing parties at the annual event known as MonCon – a gathering of minds for all things Monsterpocalypse. I had stated that I just might be interested in joining the organized chaos next year.
Well, my friends, “next year” has come and until yesterday I had not held a monster or unit in my hands since this time last year when we came home all fired up and ready to train. In that time, life has happened. Quite literally. A whole new life has appeared in our family – a fifth, where once there were only four. And, somehow my MonPoc zeal had not only been moved to the back burner, it had, in all honestly, been moved out of the kitchen altogether.
So here we are, on the brink of another MonCon and I am no closer to MonPoc domination as I was this time last year.
I had determined this lack of training would, most assuredly, remove me from the state of competition. But, while I have spent the entire year devoting myself to children and family, I know this coming weekend is a rare one for my husband – a weekend when his desires, passions and goals take the front seat. The one weekend of the year that he gets to put a game ahead of all else. And I get the feeling that having his wife joining beside him would mean something.
So here I am, two days before it all begins, planning my Xixorax turn over breakfast, scrawling furiously on my tiny notebook trying to keep all this straight – actions, power attacks, rampage, blast, explosion, flight, tow. It’s a lot to take in.
In two days.
But, yes, my husband will have me prepared to at least be able to usher units across a map without my having to ask my opponent what the little infinity symbol inside the red star means.
Thus, that’ll be me sitting across from you, small pages ripped from coils with blue scribblings lined up in front of me, indicating what all of this means, units lined up in their pool while I squint to read their names, and a squealing baby playing on the floor beside me.
Be afraid, be very afraid.