Fear the Crab

Out of all the details involved in planning a wedding, I think the guest list and table seating are probably the most excruciating, white-hair-producing, early-death-inducing pieces of work ever to plague the existence of Man.

Some guests are easy to fit into the program. The immediate family of the bridal party are shoo-ins, of course. Close aunts and uncles can be included, at least as much as their relational proximity to the bride and groom allow.

After a certain point, economics start to kick in. It is amazing how many relatives and friends pop out of the woodwork, and as time goes on the chance of spouses and children being added to the picture increases. Now one is faced with having to decide if spending $50.00-$70.00 per person for food is worth sending an invitation. Just how close is this friend? Do we invite the kids, or just the parents? If we only invite the parents, how would they feel if they see someone else’s kids in attendance?

Some people recommend using an approximate window of one year of contact; if you haven’t spoken to them in that time, they don’t need to be invited. I myself don’t hold to that philosophy, only because I sometimes don’t talk to my brother within a year. It doesn’t mean we’re not close; we just talk only when we feel like it, and if it happens to be a week, a month, or a decade in-between, so be it.

Instead I hold to the concept that if said invitee had something to do with shaping me into the person I am today (for better, of course), then they should be in attendance. Well, to clarify, they should be asked to attend, and accounted for in the wedding budget. Whether or not they do show up is entirely up to them, though I’d hope they’d send a reply to indicate such.

One thing that no one mentions is that a guest list should be drawn up with the intent that it will account for everyone showing up. If you invite 200 people to your reception, you have to work under the assumption that all 200 will arrive. Often I think some couples send invitations with the knowledge that the person will not attend because of a variety of reasons. The invitation is sent out merely because it’s considered the polite thing to do.

And speaking of the polite thing to do, no one ever says anything about who exactly should receive an invitation. How does the politics of weddings work when it comes to co-workers, classmates, and friends? If you invite one co-worker, does that mean you should invite all?

Sometimes it’s not so obvious who gets an invite and who doesn’t need to. Do you send to the household, or to the individual families? Take, as an example, a house where the child lives with the parents, but the child is an adult (maybe with their own child). Do both parties receive an invitation, or is only one sent to the house? I’m inclined to believe that two invitations would need to be sent, based on the idea that it is almost like two separate families that just so happen to live under the same roof. I’d hold to that same principle regarding grandparents living with their kids.

It’s Friday, and I’ve only been at work for three hours.

Now that The Folks have taken it upon themselves to spend cash, they’ve also asked for the inclusion of other guests, such as my neighbors. My neighbors have been with me since childhood, so it is the right thing to do. I initially wasn’t going to invite them because of costs, just like I wasn’t going to invite many from the continent.

Well, now I can. The neighbors are in, and so are my friends. We still don’t want to let things get too out-of-hand, however, so I still expect to see the guest list top off at 185 or so. Actually, maybe if we cut it down to 175, that’d be good. I know I’m not paying for the food anymore, but that’s not a reason to go helly-welly with the freebies.

As far as the rest of the wedding goes, I think most things are secured. We’ve got the officiant, the ceremony musician, and a band for the reception. The photographer is booked, and the florist has reserved the day for us. Maile’s dress decision won’t be made until September, but since we have the backup dress, it’s pretty much guaranteed that she’s going to wear something nice. For things like the wedding bands, favors, and invitations, we know who we are going through, and it is not critical at this point to secure any dates.

What remains now are the little details. We need to talk with the officiant about what vows we want and the ceremony sequence. The musicians need to know what music to play. The florist needs to know what colors and arrangements are needed. All the specific details must be hammered out, but it’s a lot easier now, knowing they’re already set and are just waiting.

Sometimes it feels like I’m getting married next week.

The Folks have offered to pay for the hotel for the wedding, which basically includes the reception, ceremony site rental, and parking. In exchange, they want to set the menu. So, happy day. That’s a good $13k off my back.

Just came off a weekend of sniffling and feeling miserable. I got better on Wednesday, and today I came back to work and the joyous drudgery continues!

I was too tired to pack my lunch, so I ate popcorn and cereal bars.

I want to sleep, to take a nap and dream. Actually, I don’t need the dream, just the nap.

So I’m thinking of cutting out some parts of my wedding guest list. With the buffet at $47 a head, and with the list close to 175 people, the prices were starting to look a little steep.

Trouble is, I didn’t have many people on my list in the first place. I cut out my personal friends on the continent, plus some old friends from the old workplace that I haven’t spoken to in years, and I only got the list down to 160. It’s hard because these are the people who’ve contributed to what I am today, and they are the first of my friends whom I would have liked to be in attendance. Some of them know Maile, too.

EDIT: Actually, the list is back up to 164. I forgot to add myself and Maile (because we have to eat, too!), as well as two more people from The Lab.

Still, less people on the list means less of a body count in the buffet line, which would substantially decrease the overall cost of food and beverage. Plus, we don’t need to make as many invitations, which can mean a significant reduction of about $100.

In other areas, I might have to push for recorded entertainment. The hotel will let me hook up my iPod to their sound system for $40, which is 10x less than the cheapest live DJ. I can fill up a playlist with the songs I want and let it run on shuffle, and when it comes time to actually play a specific song, I could delegate some volunteer to be in charge of that (since the iPod still plays as you’re searching for the song).

I also think I will have to reduce the time the bar remains open. I looked at the cost for 4 hours of operation (1730-2130), and I could save over $1k if I cut it down to 3 (so it ends at 2030 instead). It’s a Sunday buffet, so I don’t think many people will want to drink as late anyway. Of course, I could go even cheaper and require everyone to buy their own alcohol…

What worries me, though, is the fact that we still haven’t accounted for other costs, like flowers, hair & makeup for the bride, and even the wedding bands. The three-thousand dollars I “saved” may just go back in, though I admit it would still be slightly better.

I think we might seriously have to take out a loan. The thing is, I don’t want to get a loan and then start “upgrading” the wedding just because we suddenly have an influx of funds. I don’t want to get into the mindset that now I can afford to bring in my elementary school classmates, or the nice principal from Tuba City High. I don’t want to think that I could get a comedy team to perform at the reception, or a 10-piece big band with award-winning crooner.

I would rather make the wedding as minimal as possible whilst retaining some manner of elegance (because it’s for her), even if it means those in attendance don’t get what they’re used to getting (like a live band), or the invitations don’t have a map or directions.

There are other costs looming on the horizon; I can see them, and they think I’m pretty enough to eat.

One of the cories died, so now I have 3. Maile gave me her two sterbai cories to up my total to 5, and now everyone seems a bit more active. Perhaps the similar markings lead each to believe there’s more than what really exist.

Argento is getting big. He also seems to have a gap in his gill cover, which from what I’ve read online, seems to be a minor genetic defect. Most reports indicate that the fish can still live to a ripe old age, so I’m not too worried.

I have approximately two more weeks of school left, and if all my grades are of passing level, I should receive my diploma in a couple of months. During that time I’ll have to find a job. I’ve only had one interview so far, with a private firm, but I’ve sent apps and resumes to many places.

Maile and I expect to be in Las Vegas late May, for vacation. My family is flying there, too, so it’ll be a nice outing.

Seems many people I know are living in or moving to the San Francisco area.

Fish are dying on me left and right. This morning Buttercup was dead. I didn’t notice at first because instead of floating on the surface, she was against the filter intake valve.

I fished her out, dropped her in a ziploc bag, grabbed a sample of my water in a glass jar, and went to work.

I went to my parents’ groundbreaking ceremony, where we blessed the lot before we began construction. I met an Italian buddhist priest.

After the groundbreaking, went down to Coral Reef. If a fish you buy from them dies within 3 days of purchase, you bring the body, sample of water, and receipt. If the body is free of damage (ie, wasn’t covered in parasites or fighting) and the water passed inspection (ie, the water wasn’t the cause), then the store issues you credit.

I was more interested in figuring out if my water was the culprit, but it turned out that my water was good. I asked if high heat could have killed the fish, but the guy said it was more likely stress. We took a look inside the bag again, and this time we noticed something odd.

Buttercup was pregnant.

So I had a dead mother-to-be. Not nice. The fish store guy said that stress and pregnancy could end a fish’s life, so it wasn’t my fault.

All the same, I ended up buying a 10-gallon tank and all the accessories that should go with it. Stuff like gravel, a full hood, filtration system (under-gravel and wet-dry, yeah), and for good measure, a water test kit. I have no idea where the 10-gallon will go, but I think I will put it on my desk, since there’s enough space. And speaking of space, the 10-Gs will give me enough room for more schoolers so the fish won’t feel lonely. Loneliness leads to stress, and we’ve all seen what happens from stress.

As for the 3-gallon tank, I’ll probably keep it as a quarantine tank. Clean it out, put it aside for a bit, and when I need to use it I’ll use it.

My brother was back in town, and our house was as it was before my mom’s accident. However, everyone was how they were today. I was busy with fish-related things, but there were other people in the house, and many were from my old karate dojo. In fact, we were having a tournament of sorts, where we would compete against each other.

I remember noticing a man and a young girl, his daughter, who were newcomers, black belts, and I knew, or was told, that my brother and I would be competing against them.

I came to the realization that I had not been practicing karate since 1987, and I was nowhere near being in perfect physical condition. I made this publicly known, and I guess I was spared the humiliation of being trounced by some dude and his daughter.

My brother, however, accepted the challenge. He had not been practicing karate for a longer time than me, and it showed during the competition. Maile was there, and I remember her commenting after my bro tried a particular move, “Oh no, that move was a fake!” This was because she knew what moves my brother knew, I guess.

Finally, it got so bad that my brother performed a ninja disappearing act, and we were all wondering where he went. I knew that he was in our bathroom, with the door locked, and I told no one. So everyone went home, and my bro came out, and the first thing he said was, ‘Notice my new colors?” and his belt was back to white.

My dad mentioned something about how we now knew there were too many competitions. I mentioned that our dojo was interested more in form than physical contact, and asked my brother if he even knew what purpose each maneuver was for. He replied no, but he was also on his laptop doing something for an online game. However, he was being honest, and it made me think that perhaps that was the reason he lost, because he was just going through the motions. I asked him to show me a move we learned in our dojo, and I would tell him what its intent was for, since I was aware of these things.

Thank goodness I woke up at that point. Very disturbing dream and I don’t know if I want to try to analyze this one.

IRL, my brother is not a coward, and we both know what our dojo taught, and the purpose of blocking and striking moves. And most importantly, there were never any competitions between members, because as I said, the dojo stressed form and physical fitness over actual combat. That isn’t to say that if you went in with an attitude of non-learning that you’d still get by, you just wouldn’t be getting everything that was offered.

Last full day on Maui. Met up with Crystal and her family for a hike to the Twin Falls, but unfortunately Maile and I weren’t dressed for the occasion. We wore jeans and boots, which you would normally expect to use on hikes. Turns out that the hike was really easy, and the hot weather made jeans and boots ill-advised. Then to get to one of the falls we had to wade through thigh-deep water. Not something you want to do with shoes and socks.

After the hike we went back to the hotel for a quick nap, then rejoined Crystal for dinner at the Palm Court, a restaurant at one of the Wailea hotels. Her husband Brian is a chef there, and our meal was comped, so it was really a wonderful surprise and a pleasant occasion. One of the specialties at the restaurant was their handmade pizza, topped to order. The service was excellent, though part of me wonders if it was because of Brian and Crystal. In the end, Maile and I ate too much and felt very uncomfortable, but it’s nice being full.

Tomorrow we head out to the airport for our trip home. We’ll be riding one of those turboprop airplanes, so it’ll be an experience.

Maile and I woke up at 0430 to get ready for our trip to Maui. Our flight wasn’t until 0630, but with all the new security measures in place (and the fact that we hadn’t taken a trip in 3 years), we decided it’d be better to be early than late. Arrived at the airport at 0510, so we grabbed some breakfast after we checked in. Still had about an hour to kill.

Landed on Maui around 0715, got the rental car and drove the 45 minutes from the airport to the hotel, the Royal Lahaina Resort. Unfortunately, we couldn’t check in until 1500, so we held our baggage at the concierge and drove back out to visit the Maui Ocean Center.

The MOC was a pleasant experience, and a good start to the vacation. Their indoor reef displays are, apparently, the largest in the nation. There were tons of sea life, and not just limited to the reef, neither. We got to the open sea exhibit where they were holding a shark week event, so the tanks were full of black tips and makos, and lots of rays. Maile got freaked out each time a shark swam out from behind the wall. My favorite exhibit, though, was the jellyfish tank. It looked like a giant lava lamp with florescent colors and a slow current to move the jellyfish along. It was quite surreal, and I wouldn’t mind having something like that in my house.

After the aquarium, we still had hours to kill, so we decided to visit the Maui Winery, which was about a 1-2 hour drive down the scary Kula Highway. People say that the Hana Highway, with its twists and turns, is stressful, but it’s nothing compared to Kula. Kula has its own twists, but what makes the road more nerve-wracking is the hilly terrain, such that as you’re taking a turn you can’t see where the road is going, much less if an oncoming car has crossed the center line. That two-lane road is even more dangerous when the clouds roll down from Haleakala, but thankfully our journey was sunlit.

The Maui Winery was celebrating its 30th anniversary, so there were a lot of tourists and locals. It was so crowded that we couldn’t partake in the tasting of the various wines, and even then, I was doubtful of my ability to drive that damn highway with just a smidgen of alcohol in my system. We wanted to take the tour through the grounds, but because of the anniversary celebration, all the winemakers and cellar masters were there to conduct. And they were a long-winded bunch. Standing in the sun listening to the various planting of grapes and all sorts of technical details was too much for us. Top it off with a bunch of wine geeks asking all kinds of questions and the tour just dragged. Maile and I left after the third stop; we didn’t even get to the cellar. We did buy some pineapple wine before we left, for gifts.

By the time we left the winery and drove the rest of the afternoon to the hotel, our room was ready. We checked in and promptly fell asleep.

Later in the evening we visited Crystal and her two children, Justin and Skye. Skye was rather shy, but she was only 5. Justin, 13, used to be like that when he was 5, too.

Last night I found a small scorpion in my bathroom. It was just sitting on the floor.. well, perhaps sitting is not the right word, but it was simply there, and not moving much at all. At first I thought it was dead, but it made a little twitch in my direction. I showed my dad, and he mentioned that it’d been years since he saw a live scorpion.

Then he killed it with his slipper.

The smashed corpse was wrapped in a paper towel and stuffed into a glass bottle that was going out in the trash. In the end it was rather anti-climactic.

It reminded me of the other time I saw a scorpion, roughly that same size. It was at George’s house, and we found it in his sister’s closet. It was captured and put in a glass jar, and then someone mentioned that scorpions glow in black light. It just so happened that the sister had a black light lamp, so we pulled that out and turned off the lights and turned on the light. And it’s true, they do glow. It’s kind of weird, in a creepy sort of way.

George then figured that he should use the black light to check for more scorpions, so he pulled it over to the closet while the rest of us sat in the dark. I think we started discussing why there are scorpions here, and how much of an infestation there was in the islands.

That’s when George screamed and dropped the black light lamp. As he bolted up, the rest of us cleared the floor, thinking there was a massive invasion force nested in between the denim and cotton. I don’t think any of us have moved that fast, ever, and we probably mastered the art of levitation if only for a few seconds. What was worse was that when George dropped the lamp, the bulb fell out and so the room was plunged into darkness. Meaning we couldn’t see squat of what was going on.

So amidst the screaming and the jumping and the banging into furniture and other people, someone had the intelligent idea to turn on the lights.

And we see a cockroach scurrying away.

Turns out the roach was in the lamp hood, and when George started moving it around it tried to run, and ran up his arm. That’s what he felt, and that’s why he screamed. At least, that’s what he’s claiming to this day. I know I was freaked trying to avoid stepping on the little stinging bastards that I thought George had unwittingly unleashed upon our pink toes.

In the end we caught the roach, and threw it into the jar with the scorpion to watch them fight. Oddly, they both died.