Lunar Obverse

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A post shared by Brian Moon (@lunarobverse) on Dec 28, 2019 at 12:04pm PST

Fifty-five years ago today, I was born, making today the anniversary of my birth, or “birthday” as the day is commonly known.

Feels weird. Time passes without much effort, but to be honest, for a lot of my life, I never dared to imagine my life beyond the next few days, weeks, or rarely, year. Did not believe I would get this far. Never really thought I would make it past 40, which is now a decade and a half behind me. And yet, here I am.

I have family, and my found family. I have memories and experiences, a tiny sampling of which are documented on this blog, but many many more lives only in my head. If I wrote 500 words a day, I could not set down all the things I’ve done. Might be fun to try, though. This blog has been going for 16 years, though; I might end up repeating myself.

And even as I never thought I’d be this old, it is likewise difficult to imagine what I could be like getting even older. I don’t have plans. Is that weird? Very well, I’m weird. Definitely outside of the mainstream. I’m a 55-year-old guy who has never been married (engaged twice, but both times fell through) who doesn’t own a home and has only owned a car for the last 3-4 years out of necessity. I don’t, as it turns out, like to own things, which puts me on the wrong side of capitalism.

I have my dreams and thoughts but no clue how to achieve them. I have my skills at computer repair and troubleshooting, my writing habits, and the desire to create: podcasts, videos, cosplay. I have this domain, with which maybe I could turn into some cash flow, but, again, not the faintest idea where to start with that.

I don’t have a cat, though I’d like one. The last one I had was a handful and eventually ran off, sadly.

I have a job and a boss who says he believes in me. That’s nice, and a good thing. It’s a good job, and my boss is an ethical and decent man. My co-workers are all good people, too.

I have a beard that many people say they like. It’s fun to keep it trimmed and neat and clean and oiled, though I imagine I’m going to be shaving it off when the weather turns warm.

This is turning in to an inventory. What else do I have? I don’t know. You tell me. What am I known for? If you’re reading this, what is your sense of me? I always feel like I reveal too much, but maybe that’s just my natural caution and anxiety. Maybe I haven’t explained who I am at all. Or maybe what you get from what I write is very different than what I think I say. I would be very interested to know your thoughts. I’ll turn on comments for the next few days.

Happy birthday to me. Tonight I’m meeting my closest friends for dinner and then karaoke. That’s the perfect celebration of another trip around the sun, in my eyes at least. Here’s to another, and another, and as many more as I can get.

Took a nap, a late nap, today, Christmas Day, because I had nowhere else to be and no one left to see. Slept in the big bed in the house I’m watching, with a big floofy doggo on my feet, and dreamed of silly things.

When I woke up, it was dark in the house and the dog was downstairs, whining to go out. I tossed on a pair of jeans, some shoes, my hoodie, and walked the dog. Realized I was hungry, remembered one of my favorite diners was open serving prime rib dinner.

A short drive later, I was sitting in the dining room, with a giant slab of meat and potatoes in front of me, a warm boozy drink melting in my stomach. Was nice.

The sounds from the bar, through the doorway, felt fake, like foley from a TV show. Was I dissociating? Maybe I was slipping through the cracks in reality. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe my dreaming mind didn’t wake up from the nap.

Merry Christmas.

I’m house-sitting for my sister and her family this Christmas season. It’s a regular occurance; they go away for the holidays and I get to stay in a nice house with a friendly dog. Archer is an English spaniel, very smart, very affectionate, and generally well-behaved.

For the past several years, I’ve been working on teaching Archer a new trick. I want to teach him to speak on command. I spend a little bit of time every day I’m here repeating the command, with the hand gesture, and I try to only reward him when he actually makes a noise.

This year, finally, he’s starting to get it. He will make a noise of some kind, a whine or a soft “ruff”, more than half the time I try. Sometimes he gets frustrated and confused, and he’ll start cycling through all the other tricks he knows: sitting, getting down, rolling over. When he does that, I go back to something simple, like “sit”, and reward him, to re-center him, and then try with “speak” again.

My friend Terry, who is very good with dogs, taught me how to do all this. I’m following his instructions. And the main reason I picked “Speak” as the trick is because, Terry said, “If you can train him to speak, you can then get him to Not Speak.”

This afternoon Archer and I were working on the trick, and then I figured he had enough and started surfing and chilling. Shortly after, he spotted someone walking by the house and started barking. Time to try something new.

I walked over, got his attention, and making the hand gesture, said firmly, “No speak.”

He immediately stopped, and his expression was priceless. I could literally see him processing this new information. He cocked his head, he looked at me, looked away, looked back. It was hilarious and adorable.

He’s a good dog.

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You just never know what you’ll find at The Bins. – #starwars #lightsaber #anakinskywalker #lukeskywalker #cosplay #props #cosplayersofpdx #reystarwars #rey #thriftstorefinds #itwascallingme #anelegantweaponforamorecivilizedage

A post shared by Brian Moon (@lunarobverse) on Dec 15, 2019 at 3:16pm PST

Hello, readers. Are you still out there?

It’s the middle of December, and I haven’t written here in a long, long while. I was busy during November, as you may recall, attempting NaNoWriMo, trying to write as many words as I could on one story in 30 days. I succeeded, in a way, and then stopped writing. Maybe I tired myself out?

And now I’m back. Today is the first day of the rest of my blogging. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Today, though, today I’m writing whatever comes to mind. I can do this.

It’s Sunday night, and I’m anxious about work tomorrow. I have a lot of stuff I need to get done before the end of the year, and the time crunch is primarily my fault, so I’m mentally beating myself up about it. One piece of me wants just to run away, and another, more serious piece, feels a sense of responsibility to at least show up and try to get it done, and the battle rages in my head.

And while the battle continues, my body sits here in front of the computer or wandering from room to room, with the pressure to do something, anything, warring with the pressure to run and hide, and as a result, I do nothing but feel guilty not doing it.

I guess this is what anxiety feels like? I don’t like it, no, I do not.

I just keep… not doing stuff.

I have done things this weekend. I finally topped up the automatic transmission fluid in my car, for example. My gas mileage has been getting worse, and when I’m driving uphill, the transmission does not shift until very very late, and when that’s happened before it was because my transmission fluid was low. I had bought a quart of it a week ago, but I just never got around to checking and topping it up until Saturday. Saturday, I checked—the dipstick was bone dry, bad bad bad—so I dumped the whole bottle in there, and the rest of the weekend it’s been shifting as it should.

I had bought a shirt from Target back when I was trying to piece together an Old Luke Skywalker costume, but then I bought a full costume, and it arrived and was great, so instead of just eating the cost of that Target shirt I took it back to Target last night.

I’m in a Secret Santa gift exchange with an online group I’m part of, and I had most of the gift purchased, but I wanted to add something local (my giftee is on the East Coast.) Today, in the spirit of getting things done, I went to a little shop in Sellwood and bought a cool artists’ rendition of my favorite street in Sellwood and a book about Portland to include in the gift. Now I have to package it up and mail it out.

And, as you can see, I visited the glorious Bins (a.k.a. The Goodwill Outlet in Sellwood) and, while looking for cheap boots I could wear as part of my Old Luke costume, found the perfect toy lightsaber! Such a serendipitous find. I can’t believe it.

…that’s it, that’s all I can think of for Getting Things Done this weekend. There’s paperwork I could do, and of course packaging up that gift for shipping, and laundry, and probably lots of other things. I can feel the anxiety returning to my brain.

Wait, I can add one other thing: I just wrote a 500+ word post for my blog, something I haven’t done in weeks. Whoo-hoo! That also counts. Hello, readers, I have missed talking to you. Thank you for sticking around!

Did I win this year? No… but yes.

My total official wordcount for NaNoWriMo 2019 is 35,735.

Officially and technically, I did not win. I did not reach 50,000 words between 1 November and 30 November. This is the 8th year I’ve attempted it, and the 8th year in which I did not reach the goal.

Why didn’t I finish? Why did I hit a wall about the 20th day in, and grind to a halt? I began to have doubts about the story. I started to overthink the plot I had discovered and started to pick apart the scenes I had already written and how they fit in. I also felt my old friend, my Inner Negative Voice, start to tell me that the story was dumb, it wasn’t worth telling, and it was not interesting to anyone else. I had that old anxiety. Once that fear crept it, it became more and more difficult to continue writing.

However, as many participants have pointed out, every word I wrote was a word I’ve never written before. I wrote 35K words that no one has ever written before, and just by attempting it I’ve done something no one else has ever done: tried to tell my own story, and challenged myself to write something every day. I made it to the 24th day, writing something, even if it wasn’t the goal average of 1,667 per day.

This year is the best, the most, I’ve ever done in all the times I’ve tried NaNoWriMo; my previous best was 22,145 in 2016. All told, I’ve written 75,775 words, officially, which just seems like a lot.

I learned many things from the experience. I learned that I can go in with just the vaguest idea, and as long as I keep writing, a story will develop. I didn’t know where the story was going on the first day, and somewhere along the way, I discovered the shape of the story. I don’t yet have all the details, and I created some loose ends and dead ends along the way, but I can see where it should all end up. And I think it’s a story worth telling.

I learned that even though I started with no direction, a direction or path would come to me as I wrote. At least twice, I would realize “If I’m here, then the next logical things to happen are this, this, and this,” and I would write down notes for future scenes, which comforted me. Those future scenes gave me peace of mind that I wouldn’t sit down the next day not knowing what to write next.

I learned that a good way to just get some words down was for me to just rant. There are several passages that are just me, ranting about the ideas and themes I’m working from. Whether or not those stay in the story, or just inform my understanding of the characters’ actions and their world, remain to be seen.

I am going to finish this draft. I’m not done with this tale at all. I owe it to myself to finish the scenes I had figured out I needed, and try to wrap up this version of the story. After it’s done, I can go back and re-draft it, taking out the parts that didn’t work, and moving things around to make more sense, and fixing the plot holes that came up because I was making it up as I go (that’s another thing I learned: if I spotted a plot hole, it’s best to just make a note, and keep going; I did not go back and re-write anything earlier because of something I decided later.)

It was worth it to try. I will do it again.

It’s the middle of the week. If you were to graph people’s interest, at least people who work the standard Monday through Friday work week, this is the peak of the graph. It’s all downhill from here. The graph would rise up from Monday, hit today, and then drop down towards Friday. Like some kind of… bump? There’s probably a better word for this but it is not coming to me.

I was going to round up some links of things to talk about, but I spent my lunch break tapping out words for NaNoWriMo instead. I still want to do regular posts where I let y’all talk back to me, or talk about your own projects and things you’re excited about, so this is that post.

Feel free to say hello, promote your own stuff, or tell me where the best Taco Tuesdays are. Or whatever else you want to talk about! TACO BOUT. Get it?

I want to open regular posts to comments, and so I’m starting with this one. I’d love to hear from you if you’re an old friend or a new reader! Let’s build a community. This is especially important to me since I deleted my Facebook account. I’ve been spending time on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr but I would also love it if visitors felt comfortable here.

It’s Sunday morning in my time zone. I’m in front of my computer, full of oatmeal and bacon, with a half-pot of coffee, and no outstanding plans except to write as much as my little fingers will manage. That means I’ll be in and out of the blog.

Leave a hello! Ask me anything. Or comment on some news you saw this week—I’m more partial to good news than bad, but speak your mind.

I’m still writing a full comment policy, but for now, just know that I’m not opposed to disagreement. I am, however, going to dump in the trash any obvious spam, hate speech or pro-fascism. There may be other lines I won’t allow commenters to cross, but for now, that’ll do for some ground rules.