Fear the Crab

Couldn’t sleep last night. Only managed to squeeze in 4 hours before the silly alarm started.

Yesterday it was brought to my attention that the RSVP cards I sent out with the wedding invitations are missing the line “will ______” in which the recipient can write “attend” or “not attend” to indicate whether or not they are coming. I can’t remember if we had initially put that line into the print request, or if we completely blanked on that. I can’t find any copy of the proof, so I can’t verify either way.

Since there’s nothing I can do about it now, I’m thinking people can just scratch out the number of guests and put “0” if they aren’t coming, or just mail the card with “can’t go” or “will go” written on it somewhere. Otherwise, I guess I might just have to call everybody and ask. A sucking fectacular turn of events, I must say.

Photo session was a blast. Had quite a lot of fun. At times I felt stiff, like I didn’t know what to do with my arms. I think it was partly because some of the poses were a bit unnatural; the two of us don’t normally stand cheek-to-cheek and stare at each other. However, I think a good reason was the fact that for a Sunday, the university is pretty crowded. I’m sure we gave all the international students staying at the dorms a nice pleasant distraction.

I might have to cave with the videographer, and settle for the standard package of a slideshow, pre-bridal reenactment, and wedding ceremony highlight. The cost to do what I wanted is prohibitive, and the work to finangle an alternative is too much. My last resort is to ask the video guy if he can just focus on Maile, and don’t make me look all sappy-fied and romantical.

The reason for this is because the reaction people will have to seeing me in soft focus, looking like a Hallmark movie actor showering the woman with love, is NOT going to have people think, “Aww, how romantic.” Rather, everyone will be, “Pshaw, okay, if you say so.”

Not too worried about that right now. There are more pressing matters at hand, namely the fact that my USB jump drive has failed and I’ve lost all the work I’ve done for the wedding. The drive contained my wedding spreadsheet, full of addresses and vendors and the total budget. I managed to save some files with a utility called PhotoRec (free), but unfortunately, the big wedding file couldn’t be recovered.

Maile has an older copy. Actually, she had the most recent work, but she accidentally overwrote it with an older email attachment before sending it to me. It’s not a loss, since it still has a lot of the work I put into it. Most importantly, it has all the costs!

Hopefully there won’t be any actual work today, so I can get some recovery tasks in.

Maile and I have been going to a personal trainer, to get in shape. Primary impetus was the wedding, of course, but hopefully we’ll learn a few things that we can do beyond that date. The first session left me swollen and sore as my muscles tried to adjust to the new workout. I could barely lift my arms to dig my nose. And this left me with the question of what to do when I had to poop.

Of course, by the time the second session rolled around, I had gotten a lot better, and could easily number-two with the best of them.

On Sunday we have an appointment with the photographer, to take engagement photos. Contrary to what people might think, these aren’t the photos where we are dressed in our finery. Rather, it is a collection of shots in our normal dress, in a location that “hold special memories” for the two of us, as the photographer might say.

There aren’t a lot of picturesque locations for Maile and me. I’m not having any photos taken at HHV, nor will we be at Sunflower Lounge. So it just leaves the university, which has a few spots that are scenic, yet familiar. And since it’s on a Sunday, there is less of a chance it will be crowded.

Running into a spot of trouble as far as the video is concerned. I’m not content with a soft-focus, slow-motion re-enactment of the pre-bridal preparation to be shown during the reception, mostly because that’s not really who we are. Yet to do anything else as a substitute would require a significant chunk of change, something which is quite painful for a budget already in the red. Either I need to stop eating, or content myself with sappy scenic lovey-dovey scenes that will make anybody familiar with the two of us scratch their heads in bewilderment.

A few months ago, Maile and I bought a loose diamond for her engagement ring. We got a 1.30 H VS1 solitaire for a reasonable price, and even though it’s a VS1 you can hardly see the inclusions. We put both the diamond and the certificate in my safe until we were ready to have it set.

A few weeks ago, Maile found a wedding band set that she really liked, so we arranged for the jeweler to work on it. The engagement band had embedded princess-cut diamonds, and the same for the wedding band. The total weight for all rocks in this set was 1.50. I think the mount was meant for another princess cut, so we had to order a different head to fit the solitaire.

Already this was burning holes in our pockets, but Maile was happy, and when Maile is happy, my headaches go away.

The diamond was set a couple of nights ago. When Maile brought it home, she called me to say she was starting to have second thoughts about the diamond we bought. She said the color was “rather warm,” meaning that it was more yellow than she once thought. I asked what she thought the color should be, and both her and her mom feel the diamond is more of an I-color. Then I asked what she wanted to do, even though inside I knew what she was going to say.

Maile wants to contact the vendor for our diamond and see if there are better colors in stock. This, of course, would mean a much higher price than what we already paid, and I’m wincing at the thought of having to shell out more when we’re currently operating on thin strings. Maybe later on in life we’d be able to afford an upgrade, but for now I’m thinking that despite everyone else admiring the diamond as a quality rock, in the back of her head Maile is going to constantly see the “warm” color of yellow. And when Maile sees something that concerns her, she feels compelled to take care of it right away. Much like me. And when we can’t take care of something right away, we’ll fret about it and be unable to focus on anything else.

Last night as we were talking, Maile mentioned to me that she was thinking of going to try to find a lower weight diamond with better color, perhaps a 1.20 or 1.25 with G color. That makes me feel a lot better, because that means the price shouldn’t be THAT much different from what we paid. I could even go upwards of a $200 difference if we couldn’t haggle the price. But, if the difference was more than that, Maile and I both think we’d be better off waiting.

So we’ll see what happens.

I spent the better part of Sunday afternoon cleaning my room. The tools of the trade were a paper shredder and a canister vacuum, the kind you put water into a reservoir where all the dirt, dust and hair collects for disposal. After three hours of moving crap around, shredding old confidential documents, sucking up dust and cobwebs and other things, I ended up with more garbage than the rest of the house.

Dust, dirt, cobwebs and hair? Twice the amount gathered earlier from the house. I know because I emptied and replaced the water in the vacuum before I started on this cleaning venture.

Shredded paper? Three 10-gallon garbage bags full. This includes any old medical statements, junk mail, financial reports, and basic documents that aren’t exactly confidential, but that have my name and address on them.

Garbage? Two 33-gallon bags of crap that I’ve kept around the room for ages. I think the amount of junk I had lying around contributed much to the room’s general squalor and decrepitude. I got rid of a few boxes, most of which were empty. There was an old laptop bag that had a broken latch, torn seam, and ripped shoulder straps. Why I had kept it for as long as I did, I probably won’t know.

The problem immediately afterward was how to dispose of these garbage bags. The paper would be sent to the recyclers, of course, provided they accept them and I can find a location convenient for myself. The other bags… well, with the holidays falling on our neighborhood’s garbage pickup days, we have limited service. Plus, my parents are in the beginning stages of a move, so they’ve a few boxes of junk. New Year’s Eve will have fireworks residue that will have to be swept up. Then there’s the everyday household refuse. This all means my garbage bin will be full for pickup.

So I figured I would drive into work early and dump my garbage in the university’s bins around campus. No one really seems to mind, though I don’t think the community at-large makes it a weekly habit of foisting garbage off to a state-run facility. I felt that since the uni was in skeleton mode for the holidays and school itself being out of session, the amount of trash would be minimal and leave some room for mine.

Instead I found something better. Right outside my subdivision there is a stretch of townhouses along the main road. It seems their garbage system involves collecting bags from each townhouse and putting them on the street for collection. I simply pulled over and added my two bags to the immense pile. I know that technically, I probably am not supposed to do that, and maybe it’s kind of silly for me to permit myself a bit of selfish indulgence. Meh.

I dreamt that I was using my rollerblades to commute to work. I made it down the hill on my street when I started to realize that I was not supposed to be on the sidewalk and should be in the street. I remember thinking that the streets weren’t well maintained and had a lot of gravel, which made for a bumpy ride.

Then for some reason I had to go back home, which meant skating up the hill. Along the way I passed a police officer on foot, and I told him that there was a suspicious car parked on a dirt road that I had just passed.

Went to Kim and Philip’s wedding reception on Sunday. Sat next to some cool people, fondled some cool pins, and ate some cool food. I had to give the second banzai toast, so I drank three tall bottles of Sapporo (40 oz?) as preparation.

There is one thing that drinking copious amounts of alcohol does to me; loss of short-term memory. As an example, when I gave the second toast, I briefly explained the significance of it, then launched into the thing with volume. When I sat down, I could not remember what I said. I had to ask Maile, “Did I say it this way, or did I screw it up and ruin everything?”

Yet, at the time, everything was lucid and all my thoughts came into crystal clarity. I knew what I wanted to do, how to do it, and all the little mental notes I left myself were remembered (such as bringing my glass with me to toast). It’s just that once I did it, I couldn’t remember if I did it correctly like I wanted to.

Freaky.

Played softball on Friday. It was a mostly-informal tournament between some of the UH campuses and the Aloha United Way. 3-innings, slow pitch, 20-minute games or 10-run mercy rule. Your own teammate pitches to you. I played on the “Systems” team which included administrative, professional, and technical staff. Schedule of events were as follows:

* First game against the Aloha United Way team. We won that game thanks to the 10-run mercy rule.

* After about twenty minutes of rest, played against UH Manoa B (there were two Manoa teams). We lost that one because of the 20 minute rule and couldn’t score enough runs in time. That put us in the loser’s bracket.

* In loser’s bracket, an hour later, we played AUW again. Also again, we won by mercy rule.

* Another long wait until our next game against UH West Oahu. Won game after 20-minute rule.

* Not too much of a wait this time, and our opponent became Windward Community College. Won game by mercy rule.

* Suddenly we had to play another game, this time against the team that beat us, UH Manoa B. This time we won by 20-minute time out.

* Now, thanks to winning, we were in the championship and had to face unbeaten Kapiolani Community College. Another consecutive game without rest, and this time there would be no mercy rule nor a 20-minute game. It’s the championship and we would have to grind it out until three innings. I don’t know how long the game was, but we ended up winning with a final score of 21-3.

* Because we were from the loser’s bracket, in order to be considered the champion we had to play KCC again. Another consecutive game, our fourth in a row, and like before there would be no mercy and no time, just straight 3 innings. By this point, we were exhausted, and our batting slowed considerably. However, thanks to some great defense we managed to pull off the win by a score of 7-4.

Actually, defense was the basic key towards our success, but that knowledge came after a series of harsh lessons. After the first game, we got a bit complacent and any time someone got a hit, they’d jog around the field. That came back to harm us because we didn’t score as often as we could have, and learned a painful lesson about the 20-minute rule. When the other team scored ahead of us, we ran out of time to catch up and ended with a loss.

Later, as I was scouting the other teams, I noticed that some teams would field an extra infielder or outfielder. We only had the 4 basic infielders and 4 outfielders, plus 1 catcher. I brought this up to our “manager” (who was basically one of the VPs who volunteered), and he found out from the officials that we could field up to 10 players, so it was legal.

Finally that brings me to defense. We played in a baseball stadium, with the fence 325 feet from home. However, the bases were set at softball field dimensions of 60 feet. This meant that if a ball was hit past the outfielders, the batter would be rounding third by the time the ball was reached. Our players understood that it was better to keep any hits in front, even if it meant a single or double. This allowed us to keep the other team from scoring big runs.

Still, we had some skilled players. Most of us had previous experience in baseball or softball, so it wasn’t difficult to communicate effectively during play. It’s a lot easier when all you have to do is shout “Two!” to a shortstop and he knows that he should throw to second base.

This is why I say defense was key. Sure, our batters could knock some home runs (see rule about keeping ball in front; other team didn’t do that), and we started running hard to get extra bases, but it was our defense that enabled us to win by mercy rule or keep the other team from scoring. Our team had multiple double-plays (the only other team to turn a double play had just one), and we were the only team to tag someone out at home.

So we won the championship and was rewarded with UH football and volleyball tickets. I scored me some volleyball tickets for November, so I plan to attend as I have never been to one.

Last night the University of Hawaii Foundation called me, at 2045 as I was lying in bed. Normally I don’t expect calls from organizations at that hour, especially on a Sunday evening, but I didn’t feel intruded upon nor was I offended once I learned the nature of the call. After listening to the introductory spiel and want for information (I told them to look me up in the directory, but I don’t think the girl caught the hint that I was now staff), the UHF hit me up for $500.00.

Ew. No. Uh-uh. $500.00 is a big hit on my paycheck after all the taxes and other deductions, plus expenses coming up for household maintenance and it’s right before the big holiday season. I politely explained that I do not have $500 to spare, to which the girl responded with a request for $100.

Another no, since I was already put off by the five bennies. At this point I was starting to lose patience, so I asked if there was an online donation form or somesuch where I could at least consider an amount that I’ve determined myself. The girl told me that they can send me a donation card, but they’ll need a “minimum amount” to write on the card, and if I wanted to donate more then I could always donate more.

Of course, had they offered me that at the very beginning, when I was a lot more patient and pleasant and all-around in a good mood, I might have told them to send the card and mark it for something like $25.00. Trying to get people with a high amount from the get-go seems to be a surefire way to set someone on the wrong track.

On Saturday I went to softball practice. The women’s softball coach was gracious enough to let us borrow some bats and softballs. Only 4 other people showed up, though, so we just had batting practice. This lasted for a good hour, and right from the start I could tell just how out of shape I was (and still am). I also broke a couple of dime-sized blisters on my left hand, thanks to not wearing batting gloves and swinging a leather-wrapped bat with rapid frequency.

I’m going to use my bicycle gloves for Tuesday’s practice and Friday’s game. It’s not the same, but it’ll do for now. If I ever get into a regular league, then I will invest in new equipment.

I did manage to hit one over the fence, though, so that was a minor moment. Of course, the softball stadium fence is 200 feet away, so that’s not saying much.

As I understand it, a fair number of people in the US know that they are entitled to a free credit report every 12 months from the “big three” credit bureaus. It seems, however, that one of the three bureau reports is not quite so free. A quick, rudimentary google check of “experian” and “ripoff” will net you a truckload of blog posts, articles, and general complaints about what I call dirty practices by Experian.

Here’s how it works: In order to get your annual credit report, you go to annualcreditreport.com, enter your information, and are given the chance to choose from the three credit bureaus (TransUnion, Equifax, and Experian). You can select 1, 2, or all three bureaus and request a credit report from them.

When I got to the Experian website in early August, I entered the requested information and got my free credit score. What I failed to realize was that I had actually signed up for a “free 30-day trial membership” to Experian’s credit monitoring service. And wouldn’t you know it, early September I find a strange charge on my credit card. I didn’t cancel my 30-day free trial, so I now had to pay. Turns out that part of the information you are asked to provide is your credit card number. SO STUPID of me to provide it.

Basically, the charge is justified because I was a fucking idiot for not reading carefully. I was so caught up in getting my annual report that I failed to consider what was being asked of me. What I can do now is suck it up like a man, cancel my so-called membership, and closely monitor my statements to ensure that my membership is actually canceled.

TransUnion and Equifax don’t do this to you, nor do they ask you for a credit card number.

It seems like there are other things associated with Experian, such as that FreeCreditReport.com stuff we hear and see on media. If you go to freecreditreport.com (and not the other URL I provided above), you are actually signing up for “triple advantage” membership.

Basically, it boils down to this: If a company offers you a “free” service, but requests your credit card number, DON’T give it. Read carefully! Don’t be an idiot like me.