Fear the Crab

I write from Nat & Big Mark’s house. I am housesitting, and by association I am also dogsitting, because the dog came with the house. Maile has been here for the past two days, whilst I have only been here one.

One of the first things I did when I got here was establish my territory. That meant turning on Nat’s computer and putting my name into her Minesweeper. Considering how no one in this house seems to play Minesweeper, my name(s) have a good chance of lasting for a long time.

The second thing I did was figure out where the bathroom was. The house is in a state of remodeling, which means that floorspace is a premium, which means that normal walkways are now filled with stooff. And it’s hard to tell what’s been temporarily placed there, or just what is actually supposed to be there. Not only did I have to figure out where the bathroom was, but I also had to figure out where the dog’s bathroom was, and I really wanted to avoid that area.

Still, after a while I couldn’t shake the Cheesy withdrawals. I tried the client that runs via cheesymud.com, but that kept disconnecting after 15 minutes. I tried the telnet client, but having no local echo gets tiring fast. What to do? I couldn’t take it, I HAD to get onto Cheesy! So I brought out my laptop, disconnected the cable from Nat’s computer and slammed in the sweet sweet connective delights.

Turned out nobody else was on.

I ate the pizza for dinner, thanks to Galbraith. It was a good option because there’s not much of a stove left, and Maile and I weren’t in the mood for anything microwaved. We also didn’t want to leave the house alone for long by eating out, especially with nothing but a plywood board for a door. Actually, that’s not entirely true, but my paranoid tendencies sometimes kick in.

I have no idea where I’m going to sleep. That should have been the third thing I did. Meanwhile, I’ll take pride in using the three common font formatting tags in this post.

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.

Last week my friend’s father passed away. I’ve only met him once, at my friend’s wedding. While I didn’t know him very well, it’s still sad to see someone with so much experience move on to the next phase in life. He was 58.

On a lighter note, my cousin also phased life, celebrating his graduation from high school. He plans on staying here, and attending a community college. I believe he intends to attend the U of Hawai`i later, so this is a smart move. Many of the credits can be transfered and apply towards those core requirements. And it’s cheaper by about $600, I think, maybe more.

Maile phased her life into a new direction, with a healthier diet and the abstinence of smoking. It’s a good change, and I’m trying to keep up. Unfortunately, I’m not actually following her footsteps, as I only eat healthy when I’m eating with her, and I’m only “cutting down” on the smoking, rather than quitting. She’s using one of those nicotine patches, bought at a tremendous discount because she went through this stop-smoking program at the hospital. Ordinarily a 1-month supply of patches would cost around $100, but after attending that program, the cost went down to $5. As for my cutbacks, I’ve taken steps to limit the number of cigs I take in a day. I never went more than a pack a day to begin with, but I’ve established rules to go by, such as not bringing cigs to work and not smoking indoors. The denial of cigs at work goes a long way towards cutting back.

I told Maile that I believe the battle to quit smoking involves not only the withdrawal of nicotine, but also the willpower to actively change habits. Nicotine is a powerful addictive stimulant, and I don’t doubt its potency. I’ve noticed, too, that we sometimes want to smoke after we eat, or when we drink, or when we want to take a break at work. That part is mental, where we’ve developed a habit (or more appropriately, an excuse) to smoke. My self-imposed rules of not bringing cigarettes to work and not smoking indoors goes a bit of ways towards that goal of breaking the mental addiction.

Since Marissa has been reading my LiveJournal, it has occured to me that I haven’t been that diligent in maintaining it. I’m sure many of you really don’t care, but it says something about persistence and dedication if I can at least write something once a month.

I’m no longer driving for The Lab, except on Saturdays. They’ve hired two new guys, who both work all week, so instead I’m grinding contacts. Not lenses, but the areas where the crowns touch other teeth. It’s good work, because I get to use the small handheld rotary tools and really screw up my tasks. I get to sit down at a small desk with magnifying goggles around my eyes. But the best part is that I can listen to CDs while working.

Granted, I’ve always listened to CDs while working, even when I was driving, because the lab car has a CD player. Nowadays I’m listening to what other people call dance goth. I have no idea what makes goth dancable, but I don’t really care. I like it. Today I’ve been listening to Switchblade Symphony, a band I recently found out had broken up in 1999. Too bad.

At the Office, I’ve finally starting coding the identity management tool for the University. It’s in PHP with a lot of HTML involved, and it makes me realize just how much I actually know. For those of you who don’t understand, don’t worry, because I don’t, either.

Next semester I will take ICS 321 and 331. Or something like that. I actually wanted to start taking some of my 400 level courses, but there’s a new rule that 400 level courses are first reserved for seniors who are going to graduate. I understand why that rule is in place, because seniors who can’t take their required courses can’t graduate. It still puts me in a bind, though, because those classes fill up so fast that I’m forced to take classes that, while I need them, I don’t want to take them just yet.

Maile and I are going to start an exercise program. We’re also going to try and quit smoking. Starting the healthy life, yo.

Since Marissa has been reading my thoughts, it seems that perhaps I should tone down the content. Yet that sort of defeats the purpose of having a journal. However, it’s online and therefore public and open to scrutiny. A compromise must be found.

Still, Marissa has her own journal-type thing and her handle is dis-be-yo-pimpette, so who am I to judge?

I’d better get back to work.

A lot’s happened. Firstly, school is kicking half of my ass. I say half because it’s not really that bad. I’m taking three classes, two in ICS and continuing my Spanish. ICS 312, Assembly Language, is pretty smooth. No problems aside from just having work to do. ICS 313, however, is hitting a bumpy hill right now. We’re learning Prolog, which is killing me. It’s not a bad language, but it’s a whole new line of thinking. It’s a logical, nonprocedural language, which is a direct opposite of what I’ve been learning these past three or so years. People tell me if I had learned Prolog first, I wouldn’t have these problems, and I believe them. Anyway, the good news is that we’re only learning Prolog this one instance. After, we’re moving on to more familiar languages. Even the professor says that it’ll get easier.

Spanish is Spanish. It’s muy bueno.

I was paid a visit from one of my college friends over the weekend. Jumi’s an upperclassman and really cool to hang out with. Took a couple of pictures, one of which is displayed on my web page. She came with a bunch of her friends, and it was a surprise to discover that two of them went to my high school! Granted, they’re older than me, but because our school is so small, everyone know everybody else. I never met them before, but they know people I know, so there’s some connection there. And to top it all off, they even went to my college. Talk about a small world!

I bought Schindler’s List on DVD.

I think I’m ready for a vacation. Spring break is only one week away.

There’s a party coming up this weekend, at my boss’ place. I’m going to drink, you can be sure.

Um.. that’s all I can think of. Doesn’t quite sound like a lot, does it? I could be forgetting things. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Old age.

Over the weekend I spent some time at a beachhouse in Laie. It was a gathering of almost everyone from The Lab, plus relatives and friends. The house was huge, way bigger than what I imagined, and it was right there on the beach. Which, I suppose, explains why it’s called a beachhouse. Maile and I went on Saturday, but a lot of people were there since Thursday. We weren’t intending to stay over, though, since Maile had a lot of work to finish by Monday. I tried some fishing with Mark’s new and expensive rod and reel (oh yeah, no pressure), but the last time I cast any sort of fishing line was back in the elementary school days. I only had one good cast, while the rest of the time I’d barely make it 10 feet. Needless to say, I didn’t catch anything. The rest of the time I spent playing with the kids, whether it was throwing a ball around, digging holes in the sand, or making sand sculptures. Maile made a really nice turtle, since we saw one in the water.

Today started out smashing. I slept late and woke up late, but still in time to get ready and leave for work before the morning rush hour. On the way, Star 101.9 was having an informal contest, which was basically listening for whenever Mortuary Chris “let one go” and being the 9th caller. I guess he had a lot of burritos the night before. Lucky me, I dialed in and managed to be the 9th caller. So I won passes to the Laugh Factory, which is interesting because I was just thinking of going there. I don’t recall how many passes I got, probably two. I should have tried to ask for more, like tickets to The Vagina Monologues, or something, but when they finally took me off hold I was reversing my truck into a parking stall. It’s very difficult to talk on a cell phone while navigating between two concrete pillars.

Later tonight I’m getting together with a bunch of old friends, and we’re likely going to hang out at Ryan’s Bar and Grill. We were supposed to go to the Laugh Factory (odd that it’s been the subject of the week for me), but due to a booking problem they won’t have a show until Thursday. Normally they have comedy every single day. So it’s a night out at Ryan’s, and hopefully a lot of people show up. It’s been a while since we all got together.

Well, I have good news and bad news.

The good news is that yesterday I changed the oil in my truck, all by myself (thank you very much). Since I’m not that mechanically inclined, that was a real feat for me. I also gave my truck a bath, and later that night I went out to D&B’s with a bunch of friends for a little get-together. Maile, James, Mary, Irene, Tolkien, George, Rei, Min, and Maile’s brother Keoni all joined me there. I ate the Jack Daniel’s ribeye steak, and it was very nice. Rei bought me this drink, I think it was called a crowntini, which is like a martini except they use Crown Royal. At least, that’s what I thought I heard above the noise and my inebriated two-beer state. And I don’t know if it was just the way D&B’s made it, but it tasted really strong, like I was drinking a shot of some kind of flavored whisky.

The bad news. I just discovered that because I’m only taking one class this semester (I had dropped ICS 212, if you recall from a previous post), I am not eligible for that student programmer job I was offered. This sucks, because I had already filled out the I-9 and W-4 forms and quit DFS so I could get this one. Now they tell me I can’t have it. I replied to their email notice and explained my situation, what led me to dropping the class, and how I am now unemployed, and asked if there was anything I could do to save this opportunity. One of The Office guys suggested I talk to one of the community colleges and explain my situation, and ask if they can recommend a 3-credit course that I could take, if there is one with open enrollment. It’s already halfway through the semester, though, and I’m worried that even if I can get that extra course, if I’ll be expected to catch up on the workload for that course. People are already taking midterms, so I’d be hard-pressed to make up that much work in a short amount of time. Not to mention the possibility that I may have to attend the class; that would severely cut into the hours I’d have for jobs. Maile is going to try and ask today if there are any courses, and I’m going to call later on my own, so hopefully a clearer path will open up before me once the end of the day draws near.

Work went fairly well. Not because I actually worked, but because conversation was pleasant and enjoyable, and helped pass the time. I met Maile after work and told her about Irene and how I always seem to engage in a “contest of logic,” for lack of a better phrase. Basically whenever Irene says something I sometimes describe in detail the error of her thinking. Nothing overly critical (at least, I hope it doesn’t come off that way, ’cause I don’t mean it), but to show an example, Irene feels driving 5 miles over the speed limit is not speeding; I say that technically she is speeding. Yet the darling little princess insists that she is not, until she grudgingly acknowledges my perspective for the next few minutes before conveniently forgetting about it. When asked why I seem to enjoy sticking it to her, I answered that I do it to knock her off her pedestal, to try and show her that the universe does not work in the way she thinks it’s supposed to, or should, work. And it’s fun.

I will be the first to admit that I am not omnipotent. But I do have an opinion on many matters and I will orate such opinions when I feel it should be orated. And if someone should counter with a logical rebuttal, I will acknowledge and accept it. As opposed to an illogical rebuttal, which in my mind is an open invitation for some serious talk. I think that’s why I seem to butt heads with Irene, because often her counters are as flimsy as wet tissue.

I still like the little munchkin, don’t get me wrong. She’s really a kind, caring and overall wonderful human being. Much like a lot of my friends, and I would hope I fit the bill as well. Our exteriors are frazzling to the untrained eye, but deep down I think we’re all pretty cool. “We’re not stupid! We’re advanced!”

Anyway, moving on, I’m having trouble with my programming assignment. I’m supposed to write a temperature conversion program, getting input from the user in the form of a maximum temperature in Fahrenheit, then displaying a table of Celsius conversions from 0F to that max temperature, in ten degree increments. For example, the user enters 50 as the max temp, and the program will show the Celsius temperature from 0F to 50F. Everything seems fine except for the conversion. For some reason everything ends up as 0. I don’t know why it’s doing that.

As far as my math homework, I’m stuck on the last problem. I can’t even begin to explain what I’m doing there. Blah.

It’s late. I’d better shower and get to bed.

Irene still surprises me. She told me that she didn’t really like the movie Schindler’s List because “it was a black-and-white movie.” If that weren’t bad enough, she also said she doesn’t eat soba because “the noodles are brown.” I told her that she’s bordering on close-mindedness. To say that a movie is “okay” simply because it’s in black-and-white isn’t a very strong argument. If she told me the acting was panned and the storyline was something out of a magazine, then I’d seriously consider her point, but just because the movie’s not in color boggles the senses. I wonder if there are a lot of people in the world like that?

In Animal Crossing, I finally caught that friggin’ bee. I immediately gave it to Maile so that she won’t have to go through the stress. Now I just have to catch my own.

Maile and I are planning a double-date dinner with Irene and Tolkien. This was a spur of the moment kind of thing, and I don’t even know where we’ll be going. I do know it’s some yakiniku place called Million, but I’ve never heard of it. It’s for a Tuesday, since both myself and Irene have the day off (and no school), and both Maile and Tolkien finish school around 1630.

In Animal Crossing, I finally got the golden shovel. I don’t know what’s special about it aside from the gold color, but it seems whenever I randomly dig in some place I get a bag of money. There’s no mark on the ground to signify there’s anything there, too. It just appears. Wow. Maile has already paid off her debt for the current house expansion, and so she added a basement. Already she’s planning the theme for her carpet, wallpaper and furniture. I’m starting to consider buying the Gameboy Advance because of the extra options enabled for Animal Crossing, but I still must consider the cost benefits, whether or not it’s worth shelling out the bucks for something I may only use sparingly.

School starts on the 13th, but I will only go to school one day a week. That’s a programming class, ICS 212, and it’s from 1800 to 2040, so hopefully traffic won’t be too bad and there will be parking in the structure. The other class I’m taking is the math class, ICS 241, and it’s an online course, which will greatly benefit my work schedule.