Stats [meta]

I installed Webalizer, which is the same web stats software that Caleb was using. So now I can see basic usage statistics for my site.

I still have to set up a cron job to update the stats on a regular basis, but the hard part is done.

That's two more things I can check off my new to-do list. • 3:03 PM 0 comments

Checked out

I'm so unmotivated.

If you looked up "unmotivated" in the dictionary, you'd find a placeholder that said "Brian didn't even bother to submit a picture for this entry. Why bother?" • 1:43 PM 1 comments

Kiss close

I finally watched the latest episode of "The Pickup Artist" (my latest guilty pleasure) last night.

This week's lesson was kissing.

Mystery actually brought in two female friends for the guys to practice with.

Now that's quality teevee. • 9:35 AM 0 comments

Finding the key

I walked through the lobby of the Mission Theater. I was leaving, probably not for the last time, but for the last time watching Firefly at the Mission... or at least the last TV episode. One more night, a week from now, to watch the capstone, "Serenity".

My first night here, I felt alone and lonely. Tonight, I felt the warmth of new friendships, but still lonely. Would I see these new friends after this was all done? I know I would try, and I know from experience that trying isn't always enough.

I heard low music and I looked at the boy in black lounging on the stairs. "Are you humming the theme song?" I asked.

He looked surprised, like he hadn't realized it. "I am!"

I laughed, and opened the doors into the street. More fans, people with whom I shared one good thing, standing, talking. The non-iPhone girl, was she here? I didn't see her, until I looked across the street, and saw her running away, with a friend. I knew I should have seized the moment when I had it.

Is that all we get? Moments in time, brief sparks of happiness, or potential happiness, and if we can't grab hold they slip away. It feels like it, walking back to my car, having said my goodbyes to my new friends, "until next week".

I keep looking for the key, the one thing, the secret that's going to unlock the universe and lay bare and naked all the mysteries I've been observer to for over four decades. What's the secret? Is it to take every opportunity? How likely is that? Most times I don't even know it's an opportunity until after the fact, after it's gone.

I drive my rented car home, and when I see the neon lights and the blue-and-white striped building, I pull into the parking lot, narrowly missing being hit by a stretch Hummer limo pulling away. I walk in, and it's dead. The strippers are lounging on the bars, talking to the customers. There's not enough money for booty-shaking. I spot Sharai, chewing gum, talking to some kid. Even though I can feel my body still processing the beer I shared at the Mission, I order another one, get a pile of one dollar bills, as if I'm going to stay even longer.

I can tell I'm not going to stay long, though.

The scruffy chubby guys are flirting with the beautiful nearly-naked women. The waitresses are joking with the bouncers. I approach the bar where Sharai sits, bored, both of us bored and looking for something new.

I toss some money. She comes by to trade her attention and looks for my cash. I joke about being sad for the end of Firefly, but the joke is that I really am sad. She nods, not really caring. But it's not her job to care. I'm the one that's passionate about finding something sharp to pierce the membrane of lassitude and bring something new to my life.

Sometimes, when the door closes, it just closes and you're left standing there. No new door opens. No windows give a new view.

Sharai ends her set and leaves to sit with another girl who'd been there before me. Loyalty like that should be rewarded. I bid her no ill will but I still feel sad and lonely. I don't have the energy to push my way in and join them.

I look around the club and see very little energy among my fellow travelers. A lazy dance on the stage, same old moves. A tired pull of the beer tap. A customer barely receiving a perfunctory lap dance. Bouncers at the door, nearly asleep.

I set my beer down, half-finished, and walk out to my car. Nothing new here. It feels like another ending. I don't have the means to make it all fun right now, might as well end my day.

Maybe my search for the key is doomed to failure because there is no key. There's no one thing that's going to make every situation work. I have energy when I do something different, and maybe something that works one time isn't going to work again the next time, because each situation is more different than it is the same, and differences are the key. Novelty is the key. Chaos is the key. Anarchy, zigging when most folk zag. Do something different.

Is leaving different? It feels like I'm always leaving but that might just be in my head. It can't always be ending because I'm still here. I haven't finished yet.

I walk in the dark apartment.

I'm the only living boy in Sellwood tonight.

I don't even turn on the light. I know where everything is. I can see the soft fade-in and -out of the white light of my laptop.

I push the "any" key and the screen lights up. I check my email. Yay, a post from Christi. And... what's this?

An email? A response? I sent a reply to a Craigslist ad days ago, and gave up hope of hearing back. I'm tired of sending out replies, like sending out resumes that never become interviews. And she replied.

My subject line was "I don't know how to stand out in the crowd"

Her response was "I don't know - but you did." She wants to call. She wants to talk to me.

How is it that life can feel so sad and empty one moment, and then, with just the tiniest change, feed me the smallest morsel of attention, and it's all worth it? I've been here before, having gotten an response, and I know from experience that responses hardly ever turn into face-to-face meetings, and those meetings hardly ever turn into dates, and let's not even talk about how rare friendships or relationships are from these humble beginnings.

I've been here before, but this moment, this one brief second of potential, feels... good. I'm going to savor it and try not to invest too much in its blossoming.

Sometimes the key is just in holding on for one more second. I haven't finished... yet.

Not tonight. • 1:00 AM 0 comments

Crap

Apparently someone found, guessed, or cracked my MySpace password. I just checked it, and there was a bulletin... from me... that was spam. A bulletin that I did not post.

That sucks. That's like coming home to find that not only was my apartment broken in to, they also found my [potentially embarrassing but harmless evidence of a personal quirk], too.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Brian has a MySpace page?!" Ugh. I do. • 2:03 PM 1 comments

The "F" word

Rockin' out to Queen this morning on the bus, and checking out the tall, thin, cute brunette with the non-iPod. I wonder what she was listening to? I wonder what her reaction would be if she'd known I was listening to Queen? Good? Bad? Indifferent?

How about if she knew I had "Fat Bottomed Girls" on repeat? What then?

Who knows?

Rock on, Freddie. Rock on. • 8:42 AM 1 comments

Customer Care, Part II

T-Mobile Customer Care responds to the iPhone (See previous post):

Dear Brian,

Thank you for taking the time to contact T-Mobile Customer Care, my name is James and I would be happy to assist you with your issue. I understand from your email that you are not happy with out selection of handsets, and you would like the iPhone. I will check into this for you and see if we have anything that can compare to the iPhone.

I have reviewed the iPhone in detail and I have found that our current leading data device, the T-Mobile Wing, is actually more sophisticated in many ways than the iPhone. I will explain further:

Currently, the iPhone specifications sheet shows that it offers the following features:

• 2.0 megapixel camera
  
• Touch screen
  
• Internet browser
  
• EDGE capable
  
• WiFi capable
  
• Bluetooth capable
  
• Quad-band
  
• Music player
  
• Widescreen capable
  
• Visual voicemail

I have compared the iPhone to our own T-Mobile Wing and I have found that save the visual voicemail, the Wing offers all of the preceding features (even the 2.0 high-quality megapixel camera). In fact, it offers several that the iPhone does not:

• Microsoft Office (pocket office)
  
• A full slide-out QWERTY keyboard in addition to the keyboard available on the touch screen; this can be extremely useful as if anything ever happens to the touch screen on the iPhone, it becomes useless until replaced
  
• Expandable memory
  
• Windows Mobile 6.0 (which allows you far more freedom than the proprietary iPhone operating system)
  
• USB mass-storage capabilities (it is capable of uploading any type of file to the device and using many formats with built-in or downloadable applications)

As you can see Brian, the Wing is a far more versatile handset and offers more features than the Apple iPhone. Furthermore, while the iPhone runs from $499 to $599, I can offer you our T-Mobile Wing for far less with our Discount Handset Upgrade Program.

I am confident that this information will assist you Brian. Please, if you have further questions, feel free to contact us by replying to this email with the case # XXXXX or you can contact Customer Care by dialing 1-800-937-8997 or "611" from your handset and pressing "SEND", both calls are free of charge. Our Customer Service representatives are available 24/7 and will be happy to assist you with all your T-Mobile needs. Thank you for choosing T-Mobile; we appreciate your business and your loyalty.

Best Regards,

James M.
Rep ID# 7XXXXXX
Web Correspondent
T-Mobile USA

Dear T-Mobile:

That's nice.

Were there millions of people WAITING IN LINE for the Wing before it was released?

Are there people getting the Wing TATTOOED ON THEIR BODIES?

[signed] Brian Moon

I think my answer flummoxed them. They decided to pass me off on another rep, one with a much smoother line... James was just a "Web Correspondent", but the new guy, James, is a "Customer Care Specialist" and he's telling me that I can unlock the iPhone and stay with T-Mobile...

Dear Brian,

My name is Adam and I will be pleased to assist you today. I understand you contacted T-Mobile requesting confirmation if millions of people waited in line for the Wing before it was released; getting the Wing tattooed on their bodies. I look forward to providing you with World Class Customer Service.

Based on your email I left with the understanding you are referencing the Wing compared to the iPhone. Did we have millions of people standing in lines and sleeping outside to get it; no, but it is a business device and we had a lot of stock available to save our customers from having to lower to this level. Additionally, I did do a full search of anyone having the Wing tattooed on their bodies.

I did not locate anyone that had done this; but this is comparing to every different devices. The Wing is a device that is many used for our Business and Government customers. They would likely not want a picture of an electronic device on their bodies. The Wing is also an MP3 player and does internet and email etc.

The only difference to the iPhone compared to other devices on the market is the distribution and limited service model; along with the advertising. I know it is important to have a device that meets your connection needs and style. SO I would like to let you know you can just by the iPhone Unlocked online.

This way you can use it with T-Mobile or in the future with any company you wanted. This is a better selection anyway; as AT&T will not unlock the device for use with other providers. I trust this information is of assistance. I thank you for your time and I hope you are having an enjoyable Monday, Cheers!

If you have any future concerns Yen feel free to contact us back and reference Case Number #XXXXXXX or contact T-Mobile Customer Care at 1-800-937-8997. (611 from your mobile handset don't forget to hit the Send Key)

You have been an esteemed part of T-Mobile since August 30th 2006 and I thank you for your selection of our service to stay simply closer to the people that matter most in your life.

Sincerely,

Adam A
ID #XXXXXX
Customer Care Specialist
T-Mobile USA

And why did James say I've been with T-Mobile since 2004, but Adam only allows that I've been with them since 2006? For the record, James is correct. • 7:06 PM 0 comments

Customer care

Dear T-Mobile:

Can you tell me when my current 2-year contract expires? Thank you.

[signed] Brian Moon

Dear Brian,

Thank you for taking the time to contact T-Mobile Customer Care, my name is James and I would be happy to assist you with your issue. I
understand from your email that you would like to know your contract expiration date. I can appreciate that you might want to have this
information for your own records, or perhaps you are wondering when you will next be eligible for a discounted handset upgrade to replace your
current phone model.

After reviewing your account, I was able to determine that your contract expires on November 28th, 2007. Going forward from this date, your
current plan will continue as it is; but you will no longer be under a service agreement. Brian, in our experience; customers who ask when
their contract expires are sometimes thinking about canceling. As such, I would like to ask you if there are any concerns you have about your
service, or is there any reason you might be considering canceling?

Brian, you might also wish to take advantage of our handset upgrade program; which offers major discounts to our valued customers (like you)
on a new phone if you do wish to renew your contract. You can get an even greater discount by choosing the two year renewal option, and some
of our handsets can even be acquired for FREE! There are several handset models available, and you can view your pricing and renewal
options by accessing your online account at www.my.t-mobile.com. Once you have logged in, you will find a link that says “Upgrade your phone
online” near the bottom left of the page where you can view availability details.

Brian, I also want to take this opportunity to tell you how much we have appreciated having your business since June 21st, 2004. You are
definitely a valued and loyal T-Mobile customer, and we look forward to providing you with several more years of world class service!

Thank you for contacting T-Mobile Customer Care. I hope that this information has helped you Brian. Please, if you have further questions,
feel free to contact us by replying to this email with the case # XXXXXX or you can contact Customer Care by dialing 1-800-937-8997 or “611” from
your handset and pressing ‘SEND’, both calls are free of charge. Our Customer Service representatives are available 24/7 and will be happy to
assist you with all your T-Mobile needs. Thank you for choosing T-Mobile; we appreciate your business and your loyalty.

Best Regards,

James M.
Rep ID# 7######
Web Correspondent
T-Mobile USA

Dear T-Mobile:

Sorry. You no have iPhone. Me want iPhone.

[signed] Brian Moon • 4:39 PM 0 comments

Bleah

Monday. Like I said to Tracy this past weekend, why does "a new day" have to be Monday!

Rode my bike to work this morning. About 30-35 minutes. Was passed several times by faster bikers, on their sleek racing bikes, with their shiny snug yellow and black bike uniforms.

I'm hoping this week is a fast one. But I always hope that. • 7:39 AM 0 comments

No picture gallery

Whoa! I didn't realize until just now that not only was my picture gallery broken, but it was a huge security breach, allowing apparently unfettered access to the root of my server's drive.

Fixed now... but, man-oh-man, that was close!

No picture gallery until I get that re-installed. • 8:31 PM 0 comments

Saturday (early) afternoon

One part coconut rum. Two parts pure pineapple juice. Three cubes of ice. In a nifty bar glass.

A cooling fan. A view of the street. And some ABBA on the stereo. • 1:32 PM 0 comments

Stuff 'n' stuff

There's a lot I'd like to write about but I'll have to wait.

Like how Ken accidentally left our work van running while we had lunch yesterday.

Or about the reality show "The Pickup Artist" on VH1, and how interesting it is to me, and how the criticisms of it that I've seen in the blogosphere always takes the same tactic, and if you just look at the things Mystery is teaching, it's very sensible advice for building a life, not just "getting laid". F'rinstance, in episode 3 he's teaching the guys how to tell stories in an interesting way. How is that bad, again?

"Gentlemen, if you are interesting, then girls will be interested in you." See how that works?

I didn't start watching the show, though, until I talked about it with Sharai, my favorite dancer. She's fascinated by it, which is even more intriguing.

Or I could post about Athena and how she made a cool post about meeting a boy and how he found her via the internet afterwards and how embarrassed she was. That's kinda fun...

Or I could post about the strange look that the non-iPhone girl gave me last Tuesday at The Mission Theater.

Or about my still-missing Smacky and how I might be getting another cat. Or maybe not.

So much to write about. So little time. • 9:18 AM 1 comments

Hero

From a New York Times article on perception, comes this quote from one of my intellectual heroes, Raymond Joseph Teller:

"The theatrical linking of a cause with an effect that has no basis in physical reality, but that — in our hearts — ought to."

• 3:08 PM 0 comments

More frustration

I wonder if my co-worker's level of frustration with the air-conditioning system here in the basement is more, or less, than my level of frustration with their complaints about the air-conditioning system here in the basement?

I guess if you've got no control over the larger issues in your life, you have to try to exercise control over something, no matter how small. • 7:19 AM 2 comments

Only three more

Only three more nights of "Firefly" @ The Mission. I didn't go last week because I was with friends at Dante's for a show. I'm looking forward to tonight.

Maybe I'll see non-iPhone girl there tonight... • 6:59 AM 0 comments

Completion

Fuck, can't I just sit and listen to Social D's "Winners and Losers" just once all the way through without being interrupted? I've only been trying all freakin' day!

Every time I'm interrupted, I patiently answer the phone, or talk to the person sticking their head in my cube, or respond to the "urgent" email... then rewind the song back to the beginning, and start over.

Only to be interrupted again.

It's become a quest, a mission. To listen, start to finish. I will do it. Or my brain will explode in frustration. • 4:41 PM 0 comments

New Media

No, no, not "new media" as in blogs and the blogosphere. I dropped over $100 on new (to me) music and movies. That kind of media. I guess it's all optical media, CDs and DVDs.

Let me show you how my mind works. I have a list of music that I want to get. Basically, since I shop at Everyday Music, a huge local chain that stocks music and movies, used and new, I think of artists to look for, and if I can find them used, I pick them up.

Here's the list I started with:

• Bob Seger
  
• Arcade Fire
  
• Spoon
  
• Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Chronicles, Vol. 1"

And here's what I walked out with:

• Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Chronicles, Vol. 1"
  
• Concrete Blonde, "Bloodletting"
  
• Social Distortion, "Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell"
  
• Social Distortion, "Sex, Love, and Rock and Roll"
  
• Social Distortion, "Social Distortion"
  
• The Cramps, "How To Make a Monster" (two disk set!)

OK, so I got one of the artists I was looking for. And, believe me, I considered many more; two more Concrete Blonde albums, another one of The Cramps' disks, more, more, more. I ended up with all the Social Distortion because I was browsing the "S" bins for Seger and Spoon. And finding used CDs of The Cramps is rare, so when I spotted them in the "C" bin I had to have them.

The movies I got at the bargain bin later that same day, and they're all favorites that I've seen many times, or in one case, a movie I've only seen once and want to watch several more times. In chronological order:

• "The Jerk" (1979)
  
• "Time Bandits" (1981)
  
• "Big Trouble in Little China" (1986)
  
• "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (1986)
  
• "The Big Lebowski" (1991)

Notice anything? They're all comedies. So many of my favorite movies are, in fact, comedies. • 6:50 AM 0 comments

Blocking the offers

Three hat stories from Saturday night...

Hood

I stepped out of the Limelight into the muggy cool Portland night, walked past the blonde boys sitting smoking on the benches, adjusted my fedora, and walked across SE Milwaukie to where I'd parked the car.

On the far side, I was walking past another bar and onto a side street. A tall guy in a straw cowboy hat, unshaven, wobbly-drunk, was crossing my path. He saw me, did a sloppy double-take.

"You a hood?" he asked me, somehow turning to face me even as he slowly continued into the bar.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"You a hood? Hoods wear those." He pointed at his head, which was wearing a cowboy hat, but I knew he meant my head, not his. How'd my brain know that? It was the context.

I laughed and said, "I'm not a hood!" And you're drunk, I thought.

No trading

The stage at Devil's Point hangs from chains and is secured in the back but is otherwise hanging free. On that stage, on Saturday night, paraded a variety of strippers, most of them dark-haired, tall and thin, and covered in tattoos.

I'd come in out of curiosity and a desire to see some strange cooter.

I sipped my Bombay Sapphire and tonic, felt the gin work its way into my system, and kept wiping my snarky grin off my face as Rocket danced above and in front of me. The crowd was loud and drunk, and included a short, dark-haired woman with librarian glasses in a green t-shirt and jeans that looked to be either an off-duty dancer, a regular, or just really friendly with everyone. At one point she jumped over the back of a chair, sat next to me, and announced that she was "waiting for the hot dancers." Which seemed crazy to me, since Rocket was on the stage, but to each their own. Not finding Rocket "hot" didn't prevent the glasses girl from shouting, miming a rope to pull Rocket closer, or pretending to kiss and lick Rocket whenever a body part presented itself. Yeah, definitely crazy.

After Rocket finished her three-song set, the next girl up was a tall thin Asian girl. Normally not my type, but... wow. I'm not sure if it was the crowd, the strongly mixed drink, or the newness of these women, but I was having a great time. Sharai? Sharai who? Heh.

When System of a Down's "Toxicity" came up, I remembered the dark noisy bar off of Bourbon Street where I'd first heard it, and sang along, loudly. I wasn't alone.

A group of early-twenty-somethings sat at the far corner of the bar, and I noticed that the boy, a tall, thin, dark-haired emo boy, appeared to be talking to me over the music. He pulled his yellow-and-white mesh-back trucker cap off and held it towards me, mouthed something, pointed at his now-exposed head.

I leaned over a bit to better hear him.

"Hey, man," he said, "we should trade hats!"

I gave him a blank look. "What?"

"Hats!" He was smiling. He pointed at my fedora. "We should trade them! For one song!"

Take off my hat? For a guy? And put on his trucker cap?

Smiling indulgently, just as Superman would smile at a six-year-old who wanted to fight crime at his side, I simply said, "No."

The kid looked a bit shocked and hurt. He pouted. His friends laughed. "Well, fuck you and your super-cool hat, then!" But he was smiling and laughing. He replaced his cap on his head and extended his hand in friendship. "My name's Sam!"

"Hi, Sam, I'm Brian," I said, talking loud just as the song ended and the volumed melted away. Awesome. Now everyone knew my name! It'll be like Cheers!

Sam smiled and shook his head. "It's a really cool hat, man."

"Yeah. Everybody loves the hat!"

Interrupted thought

I stood in the middle section of Devil's Point, the part that wasn't the bar and wasn't the stage. I guess it's the "lounge" - filled with tall tables and overstuffed vinyl booths. Not that Devil's Point is very large to begin with. The majority of the dancers that night were tall and thin, with short dark hair, and covered in tattoos. They all seemed to dress in bikini tops, lacy boyshorts, and platform boots that went all the way up to their knees.

In other words, totally my type.

I'd run out of singles and was debating getting more from the bar, or heading back to my neighborhood and the Acropolis. If i was going to be doing more drinking I didn't want to have to drive very far. I watched the girl on the stage and debated internally. I wondered where they did private dances. I saw a curtained alcove, dark and triangular, not much bigger than three square feet. There?

Rocket strutted out of the dressing room and walked right up to me. She smiled and leaned close. "Hi, I wanted to tell you..."

She was interrupted by a burst of noise as a loud song started up and the crowd cheered. We both flinched.

"Rowdy crowd!" I said over the din.

She nodded. The DJ announced that the girls not on the stage were available for private dances. I looked at Rocket and raised my eyebrows.

Her eyes twinkled. "Would you like a private dance?" she asked.

"Mainly, I'm wondering where? Where does that happen?"

She turned and pointed to the alcove I'd spotted. "In there."

"Seems dark. And small."

"Would you like to see?" She took my hand and led me over. "C'mon! I'll give you a tour!" She pulled back the curtain.

Sure enough, it was triangular and painted so dark that light seemed to fall into it. I could see the glints of light off the glossy leather (or vinyl) bench in the back, and silver handles set into the wall on either side, presumably hand-holds. Other than that I couldn't see much. Rocket was standing right next to me, warm and smelling of cherries. In fact, she smelled... delicious. She smelled like chocolate and cherries and vanilla. I kept thinking of Dr. Pepper. I wondered if I would be overwhelmed in that space.

"It looks... great!" I said.

"Cool! I'll be right back, OK?"

I turned around and watched the stage while she did some business at the bar. She returned just as the song was ending. I sat down. She stood in front of me and writhed in close, in time to the music.

"Oh, wait!" I raised my hands and she leaned away, not very far because of the tight space. I pulled my hat off. If she was standing over me I wouldn't have been able to see because of the brim, and she wouldn't have been able to get very close, either. Plus my head was warm. "My hat..." I started to put it under the bench; she took it from me and put it on a shelf just inside the curtain. I had not noticed that shelf before, but then there was a hot Goth-y chick about to get naked for me. I was distracted.

As she started dancing, I grinned, snarky. "Should I sit on my hands?" My hands were placed in plain view on my thighs.

"Why?" She asked. "Are you going to be a naughty boy?"

I just laughed. Probably not, I thought, I don't think I want to be kicked out of here yet.

She danced for me, leaning in close, presenting all of the most fascinating body parts in extreme close up. She did something that the dancers at the Acropolis never do, also: she would kiss and nibble my neck, and get very close to actually kissing me on the lips. I was smiling but I tried to keep very still and move slowly and deliberately. No sudden movements. And the Dr. Pepper smell just reminded me of how hungry I was. No dinner. No wonder the one drink was affecting me - empty stomach.

Or maybe it was Rocket.

Just as the song was ending, Rocket had taken off her belt and appeared to be about to strangle me with it. But not in a dangerous way; in a sexy way. Some people like that, I understand... It was probably a ploy, though, because she stopped when the song did. "That song ended just in time for you!" she laughed. It sounded like a joke she'd made many times before, and it was the only off note she made all evening. We can tell when something's rehearsed, or when it's natural, or we believe we can. Because she'd been so playful and friendly, I shrugged it off.

I dug out my wallet, and she turned and picked up my hat. She admired it before setting it back on my head. "Oh, I almost forgot! The whole reason I walked up to you was I wanted to tell you: I really like your hat!"

I laughed, softly, and nodded. "Yes. Everybody loves the hat."

Labels: stripclub

• 5:24 PM 0 comments

Move completed

If you're reading this you'll know my site is back up and running.

The server move is done. I have many things still to do but for now, you can read new posts here and nearly everything should work the way you expect.

I'm no longer served on dante. All hail Eggers! (Yes, all my computers are named after favorite authors. I've had Gibson, Dick, Sterling (my current laptop), Eggers, and Lethem, at least since starting this naming convention.)

Oh... The Contact Me form is broken. If you need to email me, post a comment in this thread with some way to get a hold of you (I'll understand if you have to be cryptic to prevent spammers from getting it) and I'll reply if necessary.

Some of the exciting changes you can look forward to (just thinking off the top of my head here):

• Moving my picture galleries to Flickr;
  
• A freshening-up of the overall design;
  
• The Contact Me form working;
  
• Adding tags and a tag cloud;
  
• A better About Me page;
  
• A page to describe Eggers;
  
• ...and, I don't know... stuff. Cool stuff.

Anyway, welcome back. • 9:22 AM 2 comments

Hard to describe

The least subtle way I've ever been flirted with was when she grabbed her breasts and said, "My breasts are really warm!"

The most subtle way I've ever made her laugh was with a barely-perceptible arm twitch when she said to me, "My breasts are really warm!"

I continued making eye contact with her and kept a perfectly straight face. She nearly fell over from laughing so hard. • 11:00 PM 3 comments

Site disruption this week

I'm pretty sure there's going to be a site disruption Wednesday and Thursday, at least. Dante, the server on which my site has relied for the past several years, is going down in preparation for Caleb's move to Colorado. And I'm not able to get my own server up, and the address switched over, until late Thursday night.

My sincere apologies for anyone who's affected, though I imagine none are more affected than me! • 6:36 AM 3 comments

Bumpy transition

Oops. I heard back from Caleb and it seems he's moving to Boulder sooner than I expected. He's going to take dante offline on the 16th - this coming Thursday.

There may be interruptions in service for my site this week as I scramble to get it all moved over. My apologies.

Also, again, I have to tell everyone reading this:

Please update my email address to my Gmail account!

The email switch is a permanent change. If you don't have my Gmail address right now, visit my contact page immediately to ask me to update you!

You've been warned!

...oh, who'm I kidding? I don't get that much email. • 4:51 PM 0 comments

Domains are like potato chips

...you can't just have one.

I just bought another domain: welcome impoverty.com to the Lunar Obverse family of domains.

For now it will just point to my sub-blog for NaNoWriMo '06, the one with updates for my novel, also named "Impoverty". Clever, yes?

If and when the novel ever gets published, that domain will be the marketing page for it, allowing you to peruse samples and perhaps even order copies. Just sayin'. • 3:29 PM 0 comments

Site changes

OK, I'm planning some site changes, and this is the first notice. Or maybe. I might've posted about some of this before but I can't find a post on it. Sorry if some of this is redundant info.

I'm moving webservers. Caleb, my most excellent webhost for the last several years, is moving dante, his trusted *NIX server, to Boulder, CO in September, when he starts graduate school at the University of Colorado.

There's no real reason dante couldn't continue to serve my sites from Boulder, but during the move the server will be unavailable, and Caleb isn't entirely certain what bandwidth or connection he'll have there. It seemed like a valid excuse for me to move. And since I'd rather have more control than less control, I've been looking into setting up my own server... somewhere.

I can't do it from home because of the restrictive EULA that Comcast imposes on my home cable modem connection. What I need is a business-level connection. So what I've done is make a deal with my sister, who has a small office in NW Portland. I'm going to pay for her DSL, in exchange for letting me put my own server on her network.

By fiat, I've decided that the official cut-over date is Saturday, August 25th 2007, two weeks from today. But I'm starting the move this week. Caleb provided a lot of extras, like site monitoring and text updates of downtime both planned and unplanned, and useage statistics, and backups... it's going to take a lot of work to match what I had with Caleb's Open Hand Hosting. But it's fun work, barely even "work", actually. It's tinkering and learning and that's always joyful to me.

It's funny to me that I've been so resistant to this idea. In my head it was far more complicated than I thought. It's not that setting up a webserver is easy: I wouldn't want to teach someone else how to do it from scratch. But it was easier for me than I thought because I have a lot more knowledge than I give myself credit for. The most complicated part, I thought, was setting up multiple named domains (like bamoon.com, runmoonrun.com, etc.) to be served from one IP address. Silly me! Apache virtual hosts are just a matter of editing a text file. Easy-peasy.

Likewise, I was worried about configuring a non-server install of Mac OS X to be a webserver... and then getting my configuration wiped out after installing my first security patch or update from Apple. Again, that's not likely to happen, and if I'd just sat down and thought about it I'd've realized that none of my preferences and configuration gets wiped out for a security patch, so why would my webserver configuration? I was worried over nothing.

One more thing: I won't be running a mail server on my own for a while, so I'm permanently making my Gmail account my main email. Don't use the bamoon.com address anymore. I'll be forwarding all that email to my Gmail inbox for now, and including an automatic message to remind people to update, for the forseeable future. If you're reading this now, and you email me, update your address books now! No, seriously. Right now. Do it.

There's more to say, like the fact that I want to update the look of the site to go along with the move, and how I might switch around my domains. My "business" or professional name is Lunar Obverse, so it would make sense to have a site dedicated to my professional work served from lunarobverse.com - whether that be my computer consulting, my writing, or whatever. But my blog is named Lunar Obverse, too, so it might make more sense to have that domain. I've also got bamoon.com, brian-moon.com, liefactory.com, runmoonrun.com... what do I do with those? I've used them in the past for different things, but haven't really come to a consensus about what their future should be.

runmoonrun.com will always be my running and exercise stuff, though I haven't posted much there lately. But liefactory.com... It was originally my political rants. However, I think the domain name might come across too negative, and maybe even undermine what I would want to accomplish. I've had a thought to move all my strip club stories (of which I have many) to liefactory.com. That's a better fit, I think.

But I also realized today that "The Lie Factory" would make an excellent title for my next novel, seeing that the story revolves around Portland's uniquely corrupt local government and strip clubs. So many choices...

As for the site design, there's some things I want to tweak and add. Some of the formatting is difficult to read for some folks, and I'd like to add options to make it more readable for them. I also want to have one page that collects my blog posts (from all blogs), any comments I make on other sites (if people are interested), and my Twitter and Last.fm feeds, and maybe start using Flickr for my photo gallery and put that on one page... Collecting all that is going to take a large re-design, or at least a design if I want to keep the main blog the same and collect all that under a different domain. Again... more decisions to be made.

I will keep everyone posted, but barring any catastrophes, the actual move won't be noticeable except for some brief downtime. • 1:00 PM 0 comments

Now serving in the living room

I took the first, small step towards running my own server.

If you point your browser at the domain lunarobverse.com, strangely, you end up in my living room. Virtually.

Nifty, huh? • 9:24 AM 0 comments

Yesterday

Yesterday I:

• Met a friend for lunch;
  
• Invited another friend along;
  
• Made a serious co-worker laugh;
  
• Gave directions to another friend to pick me up;
  
• Navigated to my sister's office;
  
• Fixed a printer;
  
• Bought two new books;
  
• Ate sensibly for dinner;
  
• Discussed philosophy;
  
• Watched a kick-ass movie;
  
• Slept without dreaming.

• 7:00 AM 0 comments

Beer Cupcakes

I can't bake. But if I could I would totally make these:

Beer Cupcakes

Cake

• 1 cup Guinness
  
• 1 stick, plus 1 tb, unsalted butter
  
• 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
  
• 2 cups dark brown sugar
  
• 3/4 cup sour cream
  
• 2 eggs
  
• 1 tb vanilla extract
  
• 2 cups flour
  
• 2 1/2 tsp baking soda

Glaze*

• 8 oz cream cheese
  
• 1 1/4 cups confectioners’ sugar
  
• 1/3 cup milk

Preheat oven to 350; butter a muffin tin.

Combine the Guinness and the butter, chopped into 1-inch chunks, in a large sauce pan, and heat to melt the butter. Remove from heat, and whisk in the cocoa and sugar. In a bowl, whisk the sour cream with the eggs and vanilla, then add to the beer mixture. Sift together the flour and baking soda, and fold into the batter. Pour into muffin molds and bake for 25 minutes, or until inserted cake tester comes out clean. Let stand 10 minutes, remove from muffin tin, and cool completely on a rack.

Using a mixer, whip cream cheese until smooth, sift in sugar, and beat. Add milk, and beat until smooth. Spread glaze over cooled cupcakes.

*To create a thinner glaze, use a tablespoon or two more milk; for a topping more akin to icing, use less milk, and perhaps more sugar. In either case, add a little sugar or milk at a time, mix, and check for desired consistency

Just thinking about them, I feel the same way Homer did when he invented Skittle Brau. Except I didn't invent these.

Hey, I just found SkittleBrau.net! That rocks. I should send them the recipe for Beer Cupcakes! • 10:05 PM 0 comments

Friendly

Ken and I were cleaning out his new cubicle. He handed me a box, a large one. It felt mostly empty.

"Just drop it in the corner," he said.

I turned in place, and, smiling, dropped it from waist height.

BAM!

I turned back to him, smiling. Ken looked shocked.

"There... there was a computer in there." He said it slowly, unbelieving.

My smile froze on my face. I thought it was papers and stuff, not electronics.

As that thought was sinking in, I felt a hand on my shoulder. One of the Emergency Management folk, with whom we were sharing our new space in the basement of the Multnomah Building, was standing behind me, leaning over slightly. She was a woman in her 50s (I'm guessing), tall, thin, wiry. She had just returned to county employ after serving several tours of duty in Iraq, and, I believe, as a training instructor in the concentration camps at Abu Graib and Gitmo.

She spoke in a friendly whisper. "It's OK, you're all right. No problem." She sounded controlled, but winded. "Now that I know you're just moving boxes around, it's OK. I'm still getting used to it. The other day Pascal dropped a box, and I jumped out of my chair." She shook her head at the memory. "If I'd had a gun... well... But I didn't." She chuckled. She was trying, and failing, to come across as collegial and warm.

"Oh... right." I was frozen into place. I was still processing the fact that I may have damaged a perfectly good computer just for being a smart-ass, and now I realized that I had startled this woman into some kind of post-traumatic stress reaction. I was already more than a bit empathetic for her serving multiple terms of duty for an illegal and immoral war. And knowing the black arts of torture that have been perpetrated on the humans in those prisons, many of whom were tossed in there just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and are even now being denied the most basic of human rights... and knowing that this woman was part of the bureaucracy that enabled and sustained it... and hearing her try to shrug off the extreme reaction she had just had to the sound of a box being dropped...

I felt my empathy clouded through fear. "Right" I said "Iraq."

She laughed again, a release of stress that I could only imagine. "Yeah!" She straightened up, her hand still on my shoulder. She towered over me. I wondered if she needed the contact as much as I was now repulsed by it. "That box just sounded like small-arms fire!" Her hand dropped. "I'm OK, I'm OK. I just fell out of my chair. No problem." She got up, and instead of crossing the aisle back to her desk, she left the room.

I turned to Ken. "That's great." I pantomimed typing while I faux-dictated a memo to my boss: "Dear Stan, Ken and I are mostly moved in to our new area. And by the way, I may need to requisition a bullet-proof vest for the next few weeks. The end." • 4:48 PM 4 comments

Small world after all

This week at Firefly at the Mission, I discovered that Matt, the guy who spit on me two weeks ago, worked at Stream, just like I did.

Huh. Small world.

I also saw the girl who doesn't have an iPhone, but didn't get a chance to talk to her. Apparently she's a huge Firefly fan, too. Maybe I'll talk to her next week.

Very small world. • 12:05 AM 0 comments

Reductionism

My arms were wrapped around her waist, in the cold night, on the darkened street, my lips still warm with her kiss, feeling a mixture of happiness, concern, fear, recognition and gratitude as the next-to-last woman with whom I've exchanged vows of love sadly smiled and told me of how happy she'd become after seeking out therapy and being put on prescription anti-depressants.

...I think I could go all Marcel Proust and spend the remaining years of my life trying to capture and describe all the events, feelings, memories, and sensations that led up to, and have descended from, the moment described in the preceding sentence.

I don't know why, but that moment, just a few short years past, is stuck in my head tonight. I'm not even sure what connection it has with my present mental state. Although, being human, I'm sure if I think about it long enough I can find one (or create one out of whole cloth).

Instead of writing it all out, though... I'm going to stop with the single, albeit complicated, sentence, and hope that the feeling leaves me now that I've written it out. • 12:41 AM 0 comments

No

Since Hollie asked - no. Smacky has not come home.

I guess it's remotely possible he still might, so I should add "yet". He's chipped, and if anyone finds him and brings him to a vet or shelter they should be able to read the chip and return him to me... • 9:54 AM 1 comments

Revisit

Revisiting the To-Do list I posted on Friday:

• 5000 words on my as-yet unfinished NaNoWriMo novel.

I did about 1000 words. I really had a difficult time overcoming my internal resistance to starting this. I spent most of the afternoon Saturday at Backspace, with the file open and staring at me on my laptop, but I kept surfing around instead. Then today, I tried writing at the local coffee shop, and again, surfed instead. Finally tried to open the file in WriteRoom, a full-screen editor that's supposed to block out all distractions and let me concentrate on just writing... and discovered that I had uninstalled it. Had to go find it and install it, then had to configure it... yeah. I was all distracted. I finally went back and re-read what I had written before, started laughing at my hilarious writing, and then got going for a bit. So... 1000 words, give or take. I got started.

• Do the dishes in the sink. ALL the dishes.

I did half the dishes. Another partial completion.

• Outline of two other novels kicking around in my head.

...um, no.

• Start running again (haven't run in two weeks).

Yes! I ran 3.5 miles on Saturday, and I rode my bike for over an hour (two trips, one to Fred Meyers on Johnson Creek, and once to the QFC for groceries). So, exercise has begun again. Just hoping the endorphins will kick in soon.

• Probably get really really drunk at some (or several) point.

Check. Saturday night.

So, um, mission partially accomplished. Yay, me.

Tonight I watched some stuff that had been automatically recording and piling up on my DVR hard drive. Walked up to Video Lair to see if there was anything interesting to rent (nope) and ate three donuts that I didn't really need (chocolate iced creme-filled, raspberry jelly filled, and glazed). I've got a book I'm reading about happiness; not a self-help book, but an amusing pop-science look at how people look for happiness and why our brains work against us in that pursuit called "Stumbling on Happiness" by Daniel Gilbert. • 8:40 PM 1 comments

Finally got up the nerve to ask the coffee shop owner her name (again). It's Nicole. • 2:24 PM 3 comments

Warming up

I'm warming up for my blast of writing, the writing that's going to finish the first draft of my novel "Impoverty", started last November during NaNoWriMo, and begin the long process that will catapult me to fame and fortune. Or something. Here's some tidbits I noticed around town as I made my way to this comfy blue couch on which I shall spend the afternoon.

• Three friends (or rather, four friends, but two of them are married to each other so it's three separate groups of friends) have gone camping for the weekend (to different places). Two of the friends are still texting me, however, so I'm questioning just how much they're actually "roughing it". But the friends who aren't texting me don't normally text much, so maybe they still have cell service and they're just busy and having fun.
  
• The mannequins at the Victoria's Secret store don't have much of an ass. Really kind of flat, though heart-shaped. Not much booty.
  
• There are still crowds around the iPhones at the Apple Store. I guess the coolness doesn't go away after only a month. Yes, I had to touch the iPhone.
  
• Backspape, the coolest place in Portland ever, just got even more cool: as part of their August art installation, they've put in a freakin' treehouse. It overlooks the also-new stage for musical and other events. I asked the cute barista and she said that it's probably permanent. Yes. Simply... yes.

• 12:06 PM 1 comments

To-do

This weekend...

• 5000 words on my as-yet unfinished NaNoWriMo novel.
  
• Do the dishes in the sink. All the dishes.
  
• Outline of two other novels kicking around in my head.
  
• Start running again (haven't run in two weeks).
  
• Probably get really really drunk at some (or several) point.

...annnnnnnnnnd that should get me through to Monday. Busy, busy, busy. • 6:34 AM 0 comments

Hurt

Hurts to struggle though the day.

Hurts more to ask for help... and be refused.

Who hurt whom? • 5:48 PM 0 comments

Phone coda

During the movie, I thought I saw her - the iPhone girl. It was hard to tell in the darkened theater, but she had the dark hair, and the curve of her jeans as she sat down... except her hair was longer, and she wore narrow black-framed hipster glasses. I turned to the folk I sat with, and started to point her out, and tell the story, but they began the sing-along and I lost the chance.

I watched her during the show, from time to time. I grew less and less certain it was her, the same girl. But she was still attractive, and she laughed and sang along and she fit in with the rest of the crowd, as we all let our "Firefly" freak flag fly.

When the credits ran for the last show, and the house lights came up, and we all trudged down the stairs from the balcony, spilling out into the night, I spotted her again, and this time, she pulled out her cell phone. A normal, ordinary, non-sexy flip phone of some kind. Definitely her phone, and definitely not an iPhone. Not the same girl.

On the sidewalk, I said goodnight to my new friends, and walked behind the theater to get in my car. The dark-haired, jeans-wearing, hipster-glasses sporting, normal cell-phone having girl walked past me, with a taller brown-haired female friend.

I could hear the words in my head: "Excuse me, do you have an iPhone?" I didn't say the words. I got in my car. I put the key in the ignition. I was moving very slowly. I turned the key. The engine started.

The girl and her friend leaned against their car, talking softly, nodding at each others' words.

I put the car into reverse. Backed out of my spot. Rolled up beside them on my way out of the lot. The tires crunched in the gravel.

I pushed the window down button. I leaned forward. My eyes were probably deep in shade from the brim of my hat in the orange halogen light.

The words I'd imagined, the question I already knew the answer to, spilled from my mouth. "Excuse me, do you have an iPhone?"

The girl, so cool and collected when talking to her friend after midnight in the movie theater parking lot... scrunched up her face in surprise and let out a near-screech. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?!"

I was smiling in embarrassment. "An iPhone? No?" From the fortress of my car I still felt vulnerable.

The dark-haired girl was mouthing the words of my question silently, shock having taken her voice.

Her friend, her back to me, glanced over her shoulder, rolled her eyes. "No," she said in that parenting voice one uses with the slow of brain, "we don't have an iPhone." She seemed to be both annoyed with, and used to, her friend getting strange questions from men.

"I'm sorry, you looked like someone I'd... uh... seen... before." I bowed my head in apology, raised the window again, and drove off, laughing at my strange sense of bravery. Or foolhardiness.

Whatever.

Thanks iPhone girl. I owe you one. • 12:49 AM 1 comments