Fear the Crab

I went down to Bella Wedding to try on the tuxedos. I was a bit anxious because my measurements were taken more than three months ago, and within that time I had been working out some, and eating more. If the tuxedo didn’t fit, would there be enough time to make adjustments before my wedding on Sunday?

It turned out fine. There wasn’t that much of a change in my body dimensions, and as a guy I’m rather lucky that much of my attire feature adjustable straps. The only part of my outfit that wasn’t quite right was the dress shirt collar; it was too tight. It literally cut off all blood flow to my brain, which is something I thought only a hot woman could do.

Jenny, the proprietor of the boutique, said that a new shirt will be available tomorrow afternoon. That’s perfect for me, since I have to bring George in for his fitting. And if there’s an alteration for him, his tuxedo will be ready by Saturday.

Reid also came in for his fitting. The only adjustments for him were the sleeves of the jacket. That, too, will be ready by Friday.

The pants fit well and the straps on the side allows me to feel comfortable standing or sitting, or after I’ve eaten my fill.  The shoes had these inserts that made me stand taller, since I will have to stand next to Maile in her heels for wedding photos.  I think these shoes will be the closest thing I will ever wear for high heels.  The vest and tie are a deep, rose red, with a hint of a pattern so that it’s not one big solid color, and I think that will match well with the black of the jacket, pants, and shoes.  The jacket is a standard 4-button single-breasted item, but I will probably only button three of them.  I don’t recall if there’s a handkerchief, but I don’t think that will matter.

After everything was buttoned up and set in place, I looked in the three-panel mirror, taking in every angle.  Whilst doing that, only one thought crossed my mind:

…

God DAMN, I make this look GOOD.

It’s been arranged that Keoni and his girlfriend will act as ushers for our wedding reception.  I know I said initially that I wasn’t going to have him do anything at all, but I think the job of “usher” is a good enough compromise to satisfy everybody.

Basically the job requires Keoni to stand in the reception hall, after the receiving line, and ask if any of the approaching guests require assistance in finding their table.  Each guest will have a little card with their table number, so all he has to do is request a look at that card, find the appropriate table on a banquet hall floor plan (that I will provide), and indicate the correct direction.  Simple?  Should be.

The important aspect of this job is to be friendly and courteous.  If a guest does not want help, or ignores the ushers, move on to the next.  There shouldn’t be a need to run after anybody, especially since people might see others and want to talk to them before finding their table.

I’m pretty sure Keoni can perform this task.  I’m pretty sure things will go smoothly because I’m pretty sure he won’t do anything to offend anybody.  I’m pretty sure this job is involving enough.

What I’m not sure about is whether Keoni thinks it is involving enough.  I’m getting the impression, perhaps wrongly so, that he feels we’re not “involving them” enough in our wedding.

For fuck’s sake, this wedding isn’t about satisfying some deeply held longings for other people.  It’s my wedding to a beautiful woman, with a ceremony to symbolize the significance, and a reception to say thanks to all we can.  This isn’t a service to cater to someone else’s desires.  This isn’t an opportunity for someone else to fulfill their lifelong fantasies or dreams.  Why am I suddenly obligated to make someone else feel “involved” in this?

I know Keoni won’t squander this opportunity for “involvement,” so what I’m expressing is probably moot.  I’m not looking for any appreciation, either, so it doesn’t matter to me whether or not he feels thankful for this job.  In fact, even if he thanks me, I’m liable to ask “What the hell for?”

But that’s probably quite rude.

I remember the second night of living alone.  My ears were still not accustomed to the sounds of an empty house, and I’m sure sleeping in the master bedroom accounted for a different perspective than where I used to bed.  It still put my body in alert-mode, wondering if the noises I’d hear meant something wicked was afoot.

Just so happened to have woken up at 0015.  I wasn’t sure what jarred me from slumber, but I immediately went silent and started to listen.  I needed to hear if there was a burglar, a ghost, or maybe even cockroaches!  And in that moment of traversing the list of things that could kill me, my ears picked up a strange, haunting note.

It sounded like a very very low whistle.  Or was it the sound of the beating of wings?  A buzzing vibration?  The sound was too clear to be what I figured a ghost would make, and I never heard of a burglar with a portable fan, so it had to be the #1 destroyer of sanities, the cockroach!

My first thought was, “Do cockroaches make noise?”  I heard tales of roach sounds shattering the minds of men, but no one really told me what that noise was (further proof that roaches are a bane to human existence; no one who heard the sound lived to tell).   And in this thought process, I heard it again.

That strange, alien sound.  It was coming from another part of the house, it seemed.  Fainter, yet distinct.  This thing was moving.  It was casing the house, determining the best angle of attack.  Oh, things are going to get dicey.

But I didn’t hear it again.  I turned my head, listened some more.  Nothing.  Uneasy, and a bit creeped out, I went back to sleep.

0145.  Bolted awake.  That sound!  I heard it in my dreams!  Quickly I listened, but it was quiet.  Too quiet.  It had to be a cockroach, or some other strange insect fluttering around my house.  Maybe it was the beating of wings, or maybe it was the chomping of mandibles.  The only thing certain was that it was alive, and it was INSIDE.

It sounded again.  That buzzing noise, that low whistle, echoing above the beating thunder of my heart.  It was close!  It was so distinct, so vivid, that it could come from no other place but in my room!  It was HERE!

…

It was my nose.  Seems my nasal passage congested to the point where every exhale made the boogers vibrate.  My nose was fucking snoring.

What we have here is the “first” posting in the new location for the termite droppings of my mind. It’s a new location for the caffeinated headaches of my imagination. It’s a new look, a new codebase (Word the Press, y’all!), and a new reflection of the changes going on in my life.

In the archives are the older postings from my days at LiveJournal. They have been lovingly exported here and given non-relevant titles so they don’t feel left out.

I’m still trudging through the newness, and it’s very likely that things will change again. I just figured I ought to begin with something.

Many thanks to Galbraith for leading me by the hand. This awesomeness could not have sauced forth without.

During the initial wedding plans, Maile’s brother was tapped to help out on the registration table. An easy task to involve him in the event.In the months following, there was a bit of hemming and hawing about how he wasn’t going to go, then he was going to go, and back to not going. Shiny, just let me know a decision before it’s too late.

Soon afterward, he relapsed by taking a hit of crack. He felt guilty about it afterward, and turned himself in to his PO, and spent a couple of nights in jail.

At that point, we took him off table duty. I asked two of my friends if their daughters would like to help, and they all agreed. I then had 4 people on the registration table; more than enough to handle the crowd.

Turns out the hemming and hawing by Maile’s brother and other concerns stemmed from issues unrelated to the wedding, involving mainly the immediate family and their relationship with his girlfriend. As that came to light, there were talks and discussions and I guess everything was worked out, so that’s fine.

But now I am being told that he wants his “job” back. He felt hurt that he was taken off table duty because he really wanted to be involved and help out. Maile’s mom has suggested that I put him AND his girlfriend on the registration table, and from what I can gather, Maile agrees (though I don’t know if it’s just out of agreement or any other reason). At the time this was brought to my attention, I sorta acquiesced, without really saying anything or suggesting alternatives. I had to think about it.

Last night, I spent the better part of an hour considering everything. I believe I have come to the conclusion that I will not be changing my mind. It’s not because I don’t feel that I can trust him around the gifts; I feel I can’t trust his reliability.

It’s quite possible that he can do an excellent job at the table, and that there would be no problems and everything will go smoothly. However, at this point in the wedding plans I cannot take the chance that something will happen between now and then, leaving me stranded. I do not expect any amount of vouchers from either Maile or her mom can sway me in this, too.

He feels hurt that we took him off the job. My thought is that maybe he needs to remember this “hurt” and turn it into “experience.” Take it as a lesson in how his behavior can have an impact on others, and how sometimes, certain actions cannot be undone. Perhaps if he remembers this, if he remembers how he felt when he had to suffer the consequences of what he did, it can serve him in the future when faced with the temptation to use drugs again.

The drama is in trying to convince him of that, and in a way that he doesn’t use it as an excuse to go back to drugs (the old “woe is me” attitude). And, too, I will most likely be suffering the consequences of this decision. Whether it’s from him, or Maile or her mom, I can’t tell.

In retrospect, this is precisely why I said I didn’t want to talk to any “media” prior to or during the wedding. Situations like these are best discussed after some time has passed, I think.

For example, I spoke to one the “interested parties” about the situation, and now it seems like just a big misunderstanding. It’s a lot easier to look back and laugh at our emotions, but when it occurred there were a lot of hurt feelings and lashing out.

Maybe this is what being a groomzilla is about.

Today begins the first day of living alone. The Parents have moved into the new “smart house” for the most part, leaving me responsible for my own daily upkeep and maintenance. For the time being, I have to content myself with leaving the house as it is now and hold off on any reorganization. One reason is because I don’t have the time just yet to devote to moving furniture and cleaning out closets; another is that I need new storage compartments like file cabinets and bookshelves to start organizing. I also have a wedding coming up, and Maile-plans to arrange for her moving in.

So currently I just use three rooms in the house: bedroom, bath, and kitchen. The kitchen will prove interesting, as I am a complete moron when it comes to cooking (see earlier post about Rice Krispie treats). At this point I wouldn’t trust myself with frozen pizza, and I’ve had bad experiences with THAT.

I was made aware that some people aren’t going to be attending the wedding reception. Shiny, just get me the RSVP card so I have a record. What I did notice was that this drops the guest count to a point where we lose some hotel compensation; that is, the amount of money we spend has dropped below the threshold for certain freebies. To me, it’s not a big deal, but Maile wants to add more people. I’m fine with that, and I made the suggestion that maybe we can invite the rest of the people from The Dental Lab, since we couldn’t before due to the cost. If anyone asked, we could just say that we got our tax returns and can now afford to bring everybody else. Maile agreed. Maile went to The Lab and hand deliver some invitations we had prepared.

Afterward, I was privy to the activity that occurred. Seems the invitation for one person at The Lab was “altered” by request of other parties. Instead of inviting that one person plus a guest, these other parties made Maile change the invitation to just include that person. Some of the reasons for this change were given to Maile as, “She doesn’t have a boyfriend and isn’t married, so you only need one” and “You’ll probably only get $20.00 from her AND her guest.”

That set me off. Maile found my reaction extremely funny, but I am most upset with this interference of our wedding reception. I find it quite rude to not only force me to choose who I don’t invite, but also imply that the reason I want to invite people is to score some money. That’s fucking offensive to me.

I don’t fucking care if person B irritates person A; that’s the personal property between those two. If I don’t have a problem with either, why should I not invite the both of them? I’m not going to make the decision to attend for either person. If both sincerely want to attend our wedding, I’m sure they can both act civil for 2 or 3 hours even if I seat them on different tables. If either feels they can’t put aside their differences for me, then they can decline their attendance.

I’m inviting people whom I feel I want to share in this special moment. I do appreciate those that suggest I should invite another person I didn’t previously consider, since I am forgetful and might not remember that Ms Jane Doe helped pay my way through college or something. What I don’t appreciate is any suggestion that I DON’T invite someone because of a personal problem someone else has. In fact, I’ve already NOT invited someone from The Lab because of pressure from outside sources.

And to tell me that I’m only going to get $20.00? Ridiculous. I don’t need gifts. I’m not doing this crap for gifts. You want to give me a gift? Fine. I am sincerely thankful for your generosity and I do appreciate it. Yet I do expect that you give that gift out of the kindness of your heart. Don’t misinterpret my invitation to share in this joyous occasion as a request for you to give me materialistic shit.

I don’t actually know if what I’m suffering are migraines, but they’re really painful headaches nonetheless. Seems there are a number of causes and nobody can really pinpoint the exact one, so perhaps it is a combination of many factors.

Things like my sinuses. Since I have allergies, it’s likely any outbreak of pollen or roach poo or volcanic fog plug up my sinuses, which applies pressure and leads to a headache.

Or muscle tension, maybe associated with stress. Perhaps it’s the wedding plans, the budget concerns, or all these little decisions that need to be made.

Maybe it’s the fucking table seating chart.

If it’s one thing I’ve started to appreciate, it is the timeliness of a reply. Immediate RSVPs make a world of difference when it comes to planning a party. From now on, I’m sending in RSVPs as soon as possible. It is a lot easier to make a table of 10 when you know exactly who is coming. When you don’t get an RSVP, you spend days wondering if the guest will attend, how many people are attending (in the case they don’t bring along someone), and whether you can fit total strangers onto one table in the event they don’t attend.

It’s the strangers part that stresses me the most. I’m fairly certain a good number of my guests can get along with, entertain, and be entertained by people they’ve never met. Usually those people are more expressive, outgoing, and secure in themselves that they can talk to anybody.

However, there are some groupings where I have no idea what to expect from the people there. I’m not as familiar with their personalities (and some I’ve never even met), and aside from the typical “Which side of the family are you from?” questions, I don’t know what they will talk about.

In other news, I’m collecting old photos of myself and family, to use in the video slideshow. After two weeks of nothing, the videographer finally replied to answer some (not all) of my questions. I needed assurances that the “dramatized re-enactment” of pre-bridal preparations wouldn’t be overly sappy like all indications were looking, and the videographer said that we could just shoot naturally and spontaneously. I prefer that, as it shows me and Maile as who we are, and it’s not faked or anything. I’d much rather watch the video and know that what I saw was what was really going on, and not have that thought that the whole thing was staged running through the back of my head.

The question the videographer didn’t really answer was regarding the music to be played during the video. He mentioned four songs for the slideshow, which to me corresponds to four segments: bride (baby to adult), groom (baby to adult), bride and groom with family, bride and groom by themselves. So I had asked about the other parts the video, the pre-bridal prep and the ceremony highlights. What music is played then? Do I get to choose?

His reply said that I could have a 5th song for the ceremony. That doesn’t tell me anything about the pre-bridal.

Argh, headache!

So, I started thinking about wanting an Ox baby, because I think Ox people are pretty cool. I am an Ox, so I know what I’m talking about.

But as I read up on whatever Chinese zodiac data there exists in the wide world of internet, I discover there are a few more specific details than just the stinky animal.

For example, based on the specific year you were born, you have one of five elements attached to the animal. Not only that, but you have two of each element. I am a “Yin Water Ox” to be precise. I will quote Wikipedia:

Water is yin or feminine in character, its energy is downward and its motion is stillness and conserving. It is associated with the planet Mercury, the north, winter and cold, darkness, night and the colour black. It is also associated with the moon, which was believed to cause the dew to fall at night. It is also believed to govern the kidneys, ears and bones. The negative emotion associated with water is fear, while the positive emotion is calmness. Its Primal Spirit is represented by the Black Tortoise.

In Chinese Taoist thought, water is representative of intelligence and wisdom, flexibility, softness and pliancy; however, an over-abundance of the element is said to cause difficulty in choosing something and sticking to it. In the same way, Water can be fluid and weak, but can also wield great power when it floods and overwhelms the land. In the birth and nurturing cycle, water spawns wood, and is spawned by metal. In the conquest cycle, water overcomes fire, and in turn is overcome by earth.

Wikip goes on to say that the year you were born determines how people perceive you, or how you choose to represent yourself. I guess that means people perceive me as being an Ox, which are supposed to be dependable, calm, methodical, patient, hardworking, ambitious, conventional, steady, modest, logical, resolute, tenacious. Can be stubborn, narrow-minded, materialistic, rigid, demanding.

I could agree with a lot of that, especially the later part.

Then there is the Inner Animal, which is determined by the month of your birth, and is said to be what motivates you. My inner animal (again, according to Wikip) is the Sheep: Righteous, sincere, sympathetic, mild-mannered, shy, artistic, creative, gentle, compassionate, understanding, mothering, determined, peaceful, generous, seeks security. Can be moody, indecisive, over-passive, worrier, pessimistic, over-sensitive, complainer.

I don’t know if that means I’m motivated by a desire to be righteous, sincere, etc, or even if indecision and all of my worries drive me to do things. Another website writes that the inner animal is the one we most want to be like. I do want to complain, often!

Finally there’s the Secret Animal, which if you’ve been following the logic so far, is figured out by knowing the exact hour of your birth. Seems we’re given a two-hour time slot (24 hours divided by 12 animals), and the secret animal is supposed to be your truest representation. I seem to have popped out at 2102, which makes me a Pig! Honest, simple, gallant, sturdy, sociable, peace-loving, patient, loyal, hard-working, trusting, sincere, calm, understanding, thoughtful, scrupulous, passionate, intelligent. Can be naive, over-reliant, self-indulgent, gullible, fatalistic, materialistic.

Fantastic!

Started thinking about a speech for the wedding reception. Wrote up a small thing. It’s got its thank-yous and whatnot, but it’s personal, so that’s all that matters. Not sure where I would work it into the program, considering that most weddings focus on the bride and her speech. I don’t even know if Maile is going to say anything.

Speaking of the program, we need to sit down with Mel and hammer out an agenda. I think we’ve been putting it off for too long. I’ve always had an idea of what would happen when, but I never delved into the details of the exact timing and sequence of events. Yet it’s very important, like when the hairstylist needs to know when to work on people in time for the photographer’s session. It’s no longer as simple as just getting dressed and thinking about traffic on your way to dinner.

Maile and Mel saw samples of the centerpieces. I think they’re awesome. The tall vases look pretty, and the smaller candled centerpieces are cool. Maile wants to look for an alternative candleholder to better match the tall vases, but if she can’t find anything, she is perfectly content with the current style.

Whilst there, the florist made mention of getting the media involved in our wedding. That’s the second or third vendor to say that, and it’s making me wonder just how “abnormal” our wedding is. And by “getting the media involved,” they mean contacting one of the local news agencies to run a piece on it. Is our wedding that much of a story? Is it that different? To have multiple vendors (who may or may not have had contact with each other) suggest a media story seems to indicate such.

I told Mel that if any media agency wants to interview me, it will have to be after the fact. I don’t want to talk to someone about something that’s yet to happen, or that is happening. I want to be able to look back on the event and laugh. For example, when the RVSP card issue was brought to my attention, my first thought was… well, I had no coherent thought. I was fairly upset about the screw-up and wanted to blame somebody (except myself). I needed a couple of minutes to cool down, consider what had happened, weigh my options, and eventually pass it off as something that can no longer be helped. It was a mistake, and since I can’t find a record of what I submitted to the printer, there’s nothing to indicate where the fault is. Plus, even if I could nail down who was responsible (even if it’s myself), it doesn’t help matters that people got a vague RSVP card. So why fret?

Instead I’ll take the stand that if someone send in a card “as is,” I can assume with a fair amount of certainty that they will be in attendance. I can still call them up to verify, and ultimately that level of “extra” work is something I have to suck up and do, given the situation. No amount of whining or crying is going to magically make it all better.

So given all that, I think I would need a few moments after everything is all said and done before I can speak to a stranger about what happened. I think this applies even more for a case where in the end, I have no control over the result. A news crew or reporter (or the editor) has final say on what the story will be; they’re just getting my footage and words and they’re the ones who will put it together.

If they want to film the events as it takes place, I’m going to have to insist that they stay out of everyone’s way. No intrusion upon people or activities, no use of floodlights or anything that might interfere with the ceremony or reception, and they have to give up their spot if requested. I’m sorry, but any media will be second fiddle to the primary players on that day, because in the end it is a wedding for friends and family, not a story. If whatever media can’t agree to it, then it’s no skin off my back. I won’t care if it’s not reported, if it’s not aired.

Maile sent me pictures of a hair-and-makeup test session. When I saw them I had fuzzable feeling in my chest. Made me crack a smile.

I’m never usually the one to go “Wow! That’s so awesome!” with my mouth agape, my eyes wide, and overall expression of being blown away. Usually my reactions to such moments are “Wow. That’s cool.” Inside, however, I’m usually feeling the wow-it’s-awesome feeling; just the outside is more muted.

So don’t be surprised if, during the wedding, it looks like I’m just amused at the activity. I’m probably going to be all fiddy-giddy inside, full of the rapturous wonder that is marital celebrations.

Or I’m going to be drunk.