Fear the Crab

I just finished writing a check for $1000.00. It is for a non-refundable deposit at the Hyatt Regency Waikiki, where I will be having a dinner reception. I don’t know if it’s the sudden loss of one thousand dollars or the fact that it’s non-refundable, but I am left with a big empty feeling in my heart. Strange, no? Why am I paying $1k? It’s for a wedding reception. I am getting married next April.

Surprise!

It will be held on Sunday, 6 April 2008. Maile and I initially wanted August 8 because it symbolized triple prosperity (quadruple if you consider we have been together for 8 years). However, it seems everyone else on the island is shooting for that date, because by the time we got around to checking availability (maybe a month ago), everywhere was booked. Those places that weren’t booked had a strict policy of not accepting reservations longer than a year in advance, meaning we’d have to wait until August of this year to get August of next. Or, they had the location open for a ceremony, but no place to hold a reception. Or, they had plenty of room for a reception, but only for lunch, and since 8/8/08 is a Friday not too many of our friends and family can make it to lunch.

We’ll have to be happy with double prosperity for the date we decided upon. 2008 ends in an 8 and is a multiple of 8 (by 251, in case you didn’t know. I didn’t; I had to look it up), and see reference to how long we’ve been together for bonus. We started dating 5 April 2000, so it’s only one day removed from the anniversary. Some significance there, I think. A Sunday means weekend, which means more people would attend. It also means some people will go to work the next day, so alcohol prices will decrease for some nice savings! Plus, the Hyatt gives a 5% discount on food and beverage, plus some extra comps for Sunday/weekday weddings.

Contrary to popular belief, the bride is not the one who is coordinating things. That duty has been volunteered upon my cousin Melanie, who takes a particularly masochistic delight in wedding plans. I would not venture to guess where she gets this excited energy for something so.. I don’t know, particular? I think I would be the first mate in manning the ship of wedding designs, since I have been designated to handle most of the decisions. Mel does all the research and I choose what to go with. Mel finds available locations and I decide where. I also make phone calls inquiring about availability of officiants, musicians, and stationary. Mel is checking on flowers.

Maile plays Bratz on the Gamecube and takes Lucky to the dog park.

Now, this picture is oversimplified; Maile has to make a few decisions, after all. And I’m not totally in control of everything, nor would I want to be. However, my lust for knowledge compels me to try and know the itty-bitty details of the wedding ceremony and subsequent reception, and it is here that I am introduced into the diabolical world of the wedding business.

Bunch of blood-sucking leeches, the lot!

Time was, a wedding was a simple affair. Show up at a place wearing nice clothes, say your lines, eat some food, congratulations you are wed. Now, you have to book your venue, often times the same location, but other times two separate bookings for the ceremony and reception. You have to book the photographer, you have to book the officiant, you have to book the entertainment, and oh no the photographer isn’t available that day is there another date we can book the ceremony no the date is blocked by another function and what do you mean there’s a convention that weekend?

Madness, I tell you. In addition to the big things like the ceremony, there are invitations to create, favors for your guests, the cake, flowers, hair/makeup, and the clothes. And each of these things (above included) there are individual vendors you have to go through. Granted, some are more easily worked in than others (I haven’t heard of a printing company that would refuse to make last-minute invitations), but each of these aspects incurs individual costs. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a vendor who would offer to cut your wedding cake and serve it to the guests. Speaking of which, some places charge you to use a cake knife!

After all is said and done, I’m looking at over $20k. I’m just going to sit a while and stare at that number.

On the subject of fishies, it seems that once the driftwood was removed, things have stabilized. The cories have gotten fat and piggish, constantly searching for food and exploring every little area. There have been no deaths, and one of the sterbae actually regrew his barbs (the other is still barbless, but alive and kicking). Argenta keeps laying eggs and being piggish herself, swimming up to the glass as soon as someone walks into the room with that “FEED ME!” swim.

Argenta has been harassing the cories, though. I’ve usually seen it happen when she has eggs, but lately I’ve noticed it during an eggless moment. The cories don’t seem to mind too much; that is to say, they merrily go about their business as if it never happened.

I do have plans for a large 150-gallon fish tank set up for docile schooling fish. Maybe 50+ of small tetras, like neons. Maybe 50+ pygmy cories. Maybe a few otos for algae control. Probably not guppies, as I’m not a big fan. I’m not interested in having a big tank for a big fish; I want a big tank filled with little fishes. I don’t want to worry about one type of fish eating another type, which is the big reason why I can’t keep Argenta with anything else in the tank (save the cories who are too big for her to eat).

I took out the Driftwood O’ Death from my fish tank. It will now pull duty as a desk ornament.

In place of the wood I have some smooth river stones (that I actually had to buy, curse my lack of initiative and dedication by not actually going to a river). I arranged the stones in the back corner on their horizontal ends and used them as a wall to hide the air-stone. I put the tallest (fake) plant behind in the corner, and behind the stones are some of the smaller plants to blur the line between the top of the stones and the glass.

Towards the front of the tank, along the side, I have more stones built to form some kind of Flintstones cave, using the slate as a roof. I put a plant in front of the cave to provide access and some semblance of protection for the cories. I did the same plant-door thing with the bell, which in turn was pushed farther back in the tank. Rounded the whole aquarium off with the plants along the back and in the corner, and now half of the tank is exposed. This seems to make Argenta a tad happier, and the cories still have access to areas both in the open and under cover of the plants.

Don’t know how this will affect feeding time, but we’ll see. For those who know where to find it, there’s a picture of the new tank set-up.

Which Final Fantasy Character Are You?

I had to deliver some foodstuffs to an exhibition. I was told that I would be delivering some gourmet coffee and some biscotti. The vehicle used to deliver these goods was a cross between a tricycle and a segway. Maile accompanied me on my journey, standing behind me like kids would stand on a trike’s rear axle.

The trip was mostly uneventful until near the end. We were taking back roads because we couldn’t bring this weird contraption onto the highway, and we found ourselves on a dirt road near farmland. In a case of self-fulfilling prophecy, I was in the midst of conversation with Maile and discussing how the vehicle we were in was efficient, but if I took a turn too fast it could tip over. Lo and behold, I take a turn, one of the wheels hits a rock, and we tip over.

At this time I became aware that in addition to Maile, we had a little midget along for the ride. The three of us gathered up the container of coffee and biscotti and went into a general store to check if anything was damaged.

It was the strangest coffee I had ever since. The grounds were white or cream-colored, and had the consistency of flour (maybe it was flour). The biscotti looked like dried, fried pasta. Except everything really was coffee and biscotti.

Things looked okay, so we repackaged everything and prepared to head out. I then noticed Janet KS in the store, buying an unknown item. She saw me, said hi, and then saw Maile and said hi. Then, “Oh, you two know each other?”

Strange.

I have the Wood o’ Death in my aquarium. This morning I woke up and was about to feed the fishies when I espied one of the peppered cories head-first in a little pocket in the driftwood. The color was really faded and he (I say he because he was always smaller, and the males tend to be smaller) was missing some fins. Sure-tale signs of expiration, methinks.

He wasn’t stuck because it was quite easy to get him out. I think he died and ended up in the driftwood. Still, death persists in the shivering tank of watery doom. Maybe I’m just not cut out to keep fish.

If I lose anymore I’m probably going to give away the peppered and agazzis and keep the two sterbai. Those two are quite happy-go-lucky and despite me having taken them in with little finnage, have persisted nicely. Granted, I don’t know what will happen psychologically to them if the other cories suddenly disappear.

Argenta is big and fertile, as she keeps laying eggs. I think she’s also abusing herself against the filter, because she will swim up to the lip (where the filtered water comes in) then dart quickly away, gouging herself in the process. She does this rarely, like once a week when I’m there, so I don’t think it’s a skin condition.

Don’t know what else to say about it.

Plagued by stomach cramps throughout the night. I must have eaten something bad. As a result I am very tired at work, and have resorted to catnapping inbetween webcomics and email.

Happy news is that I got paid again today. This happiness is tempered by the fact that I need to replenish the accounts I tapped to make the holiday presents happen. I should be thankful that a full-time job leaves me less time for spontaneous spendage.

My xmas loot consisted of money, clothes, and video games. Time to make merry! I got the Zelda for the GameCube and Dawn of War: Dark Crusades for the PC. They be orgasmic! Except I found out the Zelda for the GC is mirror-imaged from the Wii version. Everything, including the map, is swapped. Only the text remains the same, but it’s got me wondering if Link was a lefty to begin with. Who got the switch?

Do not take my ponderings to be an indication of dislike. I love the new Zelda game. I love the puzzle-solving (however simple it might appear to be) and I love the story. I also love the fact that I spend every minute of gameplay wondering if Midna is going to betray me. I have not beaten the game yet, so spare me the gory details until I discover the evisceral truth for myself.

I don’t know. There’s just something about the way Midna treats you that makes you think there’s a knife ready for the space between your C-4 and C-5. The little fairy from before would just annoy you, but you knew it wouldn’t lead you into the lava pits.

Dawn of War: Dark Crusades is turning out to be a fun game. I didn’t like the single-player campaigns from the first two (starting out with less than the full complement of units was rather unappealing), especially since they forced you to play as a particular army. I spent more time playing the 1-time skirmishes, which while fulfilling the instant gratification category, never really gave a sense of accomplishment.

Thankfully DoW:DC satisfies my lust for achievement with its campaign mode. Now I can choose any of the selectable armies, start with the full complement of troops and buildings available, and can determine my own course of success. Plus, earning wargear for my leader and an honor guard of veteran units gives a sense of progression, a reward beyond the increased landgrab. I’ve already taken over the planet with the Necrons, and have started a new campaign with the Space Marines.

My brother stopped by to spend a couple of weeks with the family. He returns to California today.

I’m in a one-story shop, wood floors and walls with thick tree trunk columns supporting the roof. The varnish is very dark, offset by the white sunlight through large pane windows on the far side. I believe it is a shop because there are tables with assorted knick-knacks, but there are no prices (perhaps an antique store?). The shop is part of a larger structure, in a district of concrete. There are people outside.

A homeless man walks into the shop, eating rice out of a dog bowl. I briefly think that he stole it from a stray dog one of the residents leaves food out for. I watch the man walk across the room to a door set in the wall. He tries to open it, but it is locked.

A bus has pulled up to the shop, breaking the white curtain of light with its silhouette. Japanese tourists disembark and proceed single-file into the shop, heralded by a cacophony of conversation punctuated with desperate cries from the tour group leader. The homeless man approaches the tourists as though he works in the shop (I know he does not), and begins to “confiscate” their lunch under the premise of the store not allowing any.

A woman enters the shop from the opposite end. She seems familiar, yet unrecognizable. She disapproves of the homeless man, but does not stop him. I feel disgusted by the lack of authority and the willingness to be taken advantage of. I move to the center of the shop. My intention is to kneel and meditate in front of an altar. My thoughts briefly justify this action as an attempt to garner sympathy and mete out guilt. “Look, he has to pray to the ancestors for you to stop this.”

I sit for less than a minute. I am then prompted to approach the homeless man and lead him to the altar. I tell him that “Grandfather wants to talk to you.” He stands in front of the altar, which has transformed into a hinged door. The door opens to reveal a slender woman, gorgeous and robed. She beckons the man to enter. All his sins shall be forgiven. I step back. My mind tells me that this was not planned. I watch as the man sheds joyous tears, understandably eager to absolve himself of past misdeeds, and he graciously enters the door.

The door closes. I know it was a ruse, a trap. The door and beyond is something terrible. I wait for the scream, but it doesn’t come. The tourists have begun to browse the store shelves. The woman thanks me for my help. I try to tell her that the door is an illusion, that what is on the other side is worse than the man before. I try to tell everyone that they need to leave. The evil behind the door is not finished. It is still hungry and wants to consume.

I am ignored as the door opens again.

I’m working at The Office. My hire was approved officially and I started on the 16th of November. My first day was like I had never left! And that was actually a pretty accurate statement.

The keycode to enter the office door was the same as when I was a student.
I was given my old chair, seated at my old desk, with the same computer I used when I was a student.
When I was logged in, my account had all my old settings and files.

I just hope my paycheck’s not the same.

I’m not riding my bike to work. My mom does not wish me to risk myself on the commute during traffic. While I’m fairly certain a ride into town won’t be THAT hazardous, it’s not wise to argue with someone who was paralyzed because of another driver’s idiocy. My mom’s an example that despite oneself driving correctly and safely, there are others out there that can and will kill you. Take any commute on any day at any time, and you’ll find at least one driver who’s proving to be a hazard to himself and everyone around him.

The city does have a “master plan” to make the islands safer for bicycles. The statement for this master plan is “Honolulu is a bicycle-friendly city where bicycling is a viable and popular travel choice for residents and visitors of all ages.” There are over 6 separate pdf files, which makes it a bit unreasonable to look at everything in one sitting, so I haven’t actually read through the whole thing.

In the end, I hope it enables me to finally take the journey on bike.

I’ve been using my bicycle more and more, and have made a couple of journeys of over 12 miles (one way). It takes me approximately an hour and a half to get from my house to the uni.

Speaking of the uni, I seem to be on the cusp of acquiring a full-time job there. I applied and interviewed for a programming job in my old department, and was “recommended for the position.” Apparently, the department staff submits their recommendation for the job to the Board of Regents, who then approves the hire. Since the position I applied for isn’t considered a very important one (to the BoR anyway), Human Resources will make the decision on their behalf.

Everyone tells me this is just a formality, and I’ve pretty much got the job. I don’t like claiming something that’s not true, though, so based on a technicality I really don’t have the job. Who knows? Maybe one of the HR staffers’ daughter’s heart was broken because of me.

I hope to get the job. It’s in the field I studied for, and in the department I used to work for, and it pays me more than any other job I’ve ever had. Plus, it will let me ride my bike on more frequent long-distance journeys.

Anyway, I have peach cobbler, so I’m happy.

Worship the power of bulleted lists!

• Graduated with degree in computer science
• Looking for job
• Continuing to work part-time for dental lab
• Started using a bicycle to get around

Out of all that, I think the bicycle thing is the most exciting. I mean, graduating is fine and good and all things pleasant, yes. The diploma looks nice, too.

But not as nice as my bike!

So far I’ve just been pedaling to and from work, to and from Maile’s house, which is only an area of roughly 4 miles between everything. Already I’ve had two flats, one in each tire. So far things have been good, and I’m able to take the hill up to my house with relative ease (at the lowest gear, of course).

The real challenge will come on Friday, when I will journey far and beyond my norm and head to Ala Moana during morning rush hour. I will brave the traffic congestion of cars, the broken sidewalks, the throngs of bus stops, and the poorly-timed traffic signals, just to get a haircut.

According to MapQuest, the distance is approximately 12 miles. MapQuest also says that the total driving time is 18 minutes, which is correct if one is driving at 3 in the morning and is lucky enough to catch all the green lights. I figure it should take me about 2 hours, give or take 15 minutes, for me to traverse that distance. I’ll probably leave the house 3 hours before my appointment to account for red lights, pedestrians, and minor equipment malfunctions.

Hopefully I’ll survive.