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Here we are, already in the second month of the year, with Valentine's day quickly coming up out of nowhere to catch busy boyfriends and husbands off guard and cause them to panic in the two-week crunch before V-Day.
There's always a two week crunch because men will always be men.
As men, we walk through stores in January, seeing displays of hearts, chocolate and teddy bears all around us, thinking, "oh yeah Valentine's day is coming up, I'd better pick up something and make a reservation at a restaurant..." but then a new Xbox game (ooh what's that?) catches our attention and we go wandering off forgetting that we ever saw that Valentine's day display.
We arrive on February 1st, and realize, "oh [whatever expletive suits you best], I forgot to buy something or make a reservation!" Buying something can wait. Making the reservation can not.
As all men have discovered at some point in their lives, after February 1st, it's impossible to get a reservation at a decent restaurant for V-Day. On February 1st, the phone at the matre'd station starts ringing off the hook with desperate husbands and boyfriends who are in fear for their lives.
Unfortunately, most men who call on or after February 1st are going to have to face a pissed off wife or girlfriend on Valentine's day because as the days creep on, the quality of the restaurant goes down. It goes down to the point where husbands and boyfriends either have the option of taking their wives or girlfriends to really crappy restaurants or having to wait hours for a table -- doing either of which will piss off the wife or girlfriend anyway.
It's a no-win situation at this point unless you pull off some magic.
Boys, just learn and don't do it next time. And get ready to do some magic.
At this point, the only real option a husband or boyfriend has, is to make up for the crappy restaurant or long wait on Valentine's day by showering his wife or girlfriend with an insane amount of gifts and pampering. The year (long ago) I screwed the pooch on this one, I literally had to deliver gifts of diamonds and pearls to make up for the fact that we were going to Zippys. I still shudder at the memory of that day.
If, boys, you find yourself in this situation, I should tell you a few things that will save your ass come V-day (and even if you're not, here are a few ideas):
Anything coming in a little turquoise-blue box tied with a white ribbon from a shop called "Tiffany & Co." is very likely to make her happy.
Present this gift to her just before offering to give her an hour-long massage (and read a book on how to give it too -- and practice before giving it to her, for the sake of fcuk; your manly hands can do damage). Plus, if you know what you're doing with the massaging hands, you may not be massaging for very long.
Take the time to get a nice card and write something nice in it. Don't get your card from the grocery store, they can tell whether you put thought into the card or not. Keep what you write genuine too, if you don't feel it, don't write it -- women can spot fakey sh*t a mile away.
Make sure you get flowers. Roses are good for Valentine's day in general. Roses from South America are the best. You can still order them in advance; and if you can find a wholesaler in your area it's even better because you can take your pick of the best specimens. If you can find Ecuadorian or Columbian Madame Delbard roses -- IMO those are the best value for quality.
Nieman Marcus has Godiva's "G Collection" of chocolate on sale at 40% off right now. These chocolates are unreal. They hired a fancy-pants five-star international pastry chef to hand-make them, and they're delicious (I bought these last week and tried them). These aren't everyday chocolates. These are truly special occasion chocolates. If you're only going to buy chocolates once (okay maybe three times) a year, this is one to get.
Plus, if you purchase anything from Godiva's Valentine's day special, you're entering your girl in a drawing to win a shopping spree of 52 pairs of Manolo Blahniks at the store in NYC (including the trip for two there and lodging) and 52 boxes of Godiva chocolates -- I've always thought every day should be Valentine's day, but that's a real way of making it happen.
Finally and most importantly -- to cover your ass because you screwed up the reservation for dinner on Valentine's day:
Cook for her.
Yes, I know you can't cook. The fact that you can't, but you're still willing to give her not only an act of service but a gift of food means a lot. Especially if she's Chinese (or Asian) and subconsciously she equates food = love from having her face stuffed by her parents when growing up.
You would not believe how easy it is to prepare a meal of steamed lobster with drawn (or garlic) butter, pan seared filet mignon with something that resembles a bordelaise sauce, and roasted herb potatoes and vegetables. Excluding the wine, it will cost you about 30% of what it would have cost you had you gone out to a restaurant for the same meal. If you have a stove, an oven, a pot, and a two pans (preferably non-stick), you can do this.
Also, get a good wine. I'm not saying go out and spend $100 bucks on a bottle of wine. I'm saying get one that tastes good to you, preferably something red or a port if you want to save money (because you need this for the sauce, which is a wine reduction). Champagne is always a good way to go on Valentine's day too.
Spend a few extra bucks and set the table up nice. You can get a crappy table but if it's covered with a nice linen tablecloth, some candles, and some rose petals and set up beside a window with a view; it's almost as good as a table on the left bank. And no Geto Boys playing on the stereo either, unless you two are planning on beating down a fax machine after dinner.
I realize you're going to be spending more money and effort than you thought, but cooking the meal yourself is going to cut down on that significantly -- plus, this is your punishment for being distracted by an Xbox game when you should have been calling to make a reservation for Valentine's day at Alan Wong's.
In the end though, if you pull it off right, she'll think you meant to do this from the beginning and you'll get mad props for doing something so few guys will even think of, much less execute. And at the end of a night of furious mad-propage, you'll have the knowledge that you've managed to turn what would have been a day of hell into what could possibly be one of the best days ever.
* With that said, if anybody happens to want cooking help, shoot away. I'll help you as much as I can.
** The above actions fulfill all five of the love languages. If you don't know your girl's order of preferences, you hit all five of them here. You should still find out anyway though.
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I can't believe I chose the busiest two weeks I've had since I came back to Hawai'i to come back to LiveJournal. I thought I'd be able to come back to LJ and be able to commit the time I used to be able to commit; but then all of a sudden I found myself busy -- literally from 5:00 in the morning all the way up until 11:00 at night.
It's been crazy. I'm exhausted.
I'm going to spend the next few hours replying to comments that are WAY overdue (sorry y'all, and thanks for your patience); and I'm going to try and put up some new material.
I finally got to meet the new Mayor of Honolulu yesterday. The dude is huge. I swear that guy is like eight feet tall or something. Ok, maybe less -- but I'm six feet tall and I was looking up at the guy.
Anyway, of all days, I had to meet him yesterday. Most of the time I'm either in suit and tie or I'm in business-appropriate aloha attire. Yesterday, I decided to be bummy and wear my Cal-Bears hoodie, jeans and vintage sneakers (nevermind that I didn't even bother brushing my hair in the morning) -- and my dad asked me to take his place at a meeting at City Hall with the Mayor. Oh god, I felt SO embarrassed walking into that office. Oh well, can't do anything about it now.
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A few things I'm thankful for this morning:
1. Finding out yesterday that the HOV zipper lane goes to 2-riders after 7:00am
How I didn't know this before, I don't know. Before I moved away, it was 3 riders to qualify for HOV zipper lane; and all the big signs still say "3 riders" -- yet, in what basically is small-print signage, the two-rider-after-seven rule is appended to the bottom of the giant "3 rider only" sign. I tell you, the zipper lane makes a huge difference. My commute is cut down from one and a half hours to just under an hour. I love it.
2. Hawaiian FM105.1 KINE
I realized that hip-hop, rap, and industrial metal and electronica (all of which I love) are not the best things to listen to while sitting in stop-and-go traffic. Especially industrial metal, which gets me all riled up; and big-pimpin-style hip-hop and rap, which makes me start driving all G-style rollin in the binzo yo yo yo... yeah. Maybe while cruising town during nightlife hours, but not that early in the morning while stuck in rush-hour traffic on the freeway.
The best thing to listen to is relaxing Hawaiian music, especially the slack-key acoustic guitar variety with the super-chill island sound. Hawaiian KINE 105 provides that, and damn it makes the commute so much better.
Classical works too, but some particularly intense pieces get me just as riled up as industrial metal, and compositions that really hit home (like Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No.3) get me so riled up I start having to air-violin as I'm driving down the road. It's still good though, and makes the time pass quicker.
3. Mercedes-Benz Charcoal-HEPA air filter
Damn this thing works good. In the Supra, if there's a bus anywhere near me that expels a cloud of black smoke, guess who's breathing it? And even if there isn't a bus making big puffs of black smoke, the smell of car exhaust isn't exactly pleasant either.
The Charcoal air filter on the Mercedes works wonders. A 1940's-era bus (how is this thing even still on the road, anyway?) blew a large cloud of black smoke straight in my face today, and I didn't smell a thing. Big props to Mercedes-Benz for the air filter. Also big props to making a car that's comfortable with an awesome transmission that knows better than to hunt between gears (and shifts really smoothly too).
4. Beautiful blue skies and warm sunlight.
No more gray skies. No more dim, cold mornings. Sometimes I still can't believe I live in Hawai'i.
5. I get to spend an hour trapped with a beautiful woman in my passenger seat.
No explanation needed. :)
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In my daily commutes both here and in California, I noticed that there are several distinct types of rush-hour drivers. Some are more prevalent here, some are more prevalent in Cali, but these types are generally universal.
Tunnel Vision guy, aka Regular Joe
Probably the most common type of driver here in Hawaii. I'd say about 80% of the people in traffic are of this type. This guy (or gal) gets on the freeway wherever they get on the freeway, pick a single lane, and stick to that lane all the way to their destination. They don't switch lanes even if their lane is at a dead stop and everybody else is flying past. They don't look left, right, or in back of them. All that concerns them is the bumper of the guy in front of them. Perfect.
Most Efficient Path driver
This driver understands the precise flow of traffic and can calculate the exact point of maximum efficiency to change lanes before whatever lane he (or she) is in slows down. This person goes from lane to lane across the freeway, not depending on what the current condition of the lane is -- but instead by depending on and anticipating the shift in traffic patterns ahead of everybody else.
Jerk-ass, aka F'n a-hole.
This guy is somewhat related to the Most Efficient Path driver... kind of like MEPD's stupid distantly-related cousin. Instead of anticipating the flow though, he constantly cuts back and forth through the lanes depending on whatever lane happens to be moving -- even if he only travels four car lengths before he has to cut again. This guy also tends to not care if he's cutting people off (more than once to the same person, I've seen before), and tends to not care about anyone else on the road but him (doesn't care if he causes an accident). Also tends make liberal use of the middle finger.
Dirty Bastard
Generally the same kind of person as Jerk-ass, but with a taste for risk and gambling that a cop won't see him, Dirty Bastard is the guy driving alone in the HOV lane or the guy who pulls out and starts driving on the shoulder to pass everybody up. I hate this guy. If I'm in the lane adjacent to the shoulder and I see Dirty Bastard coming up the shoulder while the rest of us are stuck, I'll block him -- just enough so that he can't get by conveniently (while somebody really having an emergency can still get by -- plus, people having emergencies tend to have their hazard lights on). I get immense satisfaction seeing Dirty Bastard getting pulled over for driving single in the HOV lane (especially in Cali, where you get slapped with a massive fine).
I'm not paying attention, nope. Don't see you!
No kidding, they don't see me! Maybe they should stop putting on makeup, or by God in heaven stop reading the newspaper! Maybe they don't have the time to read the newspaper before they leave the house, or do whatever it is they do in the morning, but even more than Jerk-ass, this guy is responsible for most of the accidents during rush hour. And rush-hour accidents are what causes Regular Joe to feel like he's going to be late, and fall into one of the deviant road behavior groups.
Please don't hurt me
One word: Inexperienced.
IMO, if somebody is licensed to drive they really should know how to drive in real-world conditions. As in look, signal, go; not look, signal, half-go, come-back, slow-down, STOP, cry, speed up, half-go... And never really get where they're supposed to be going. This guy will stop in the middle of the freeway (wtf?), signal until somebody has enough pity on him to let him in, or until he comes across Mr. Slow-on-the-pedals.
Slow-on-the-pedals
Slow on the pedals isn't a bad guy. He's just... slow... on... the... pedals. As in this is the guy most responsible for the backup in traffic. Slow-on-the-pedals is the guy still standing in place after five car lengths of traffic has accelerated in front of him, who then starts as if he has to yawn and stretch before lightly engaging the gas pedal. Like dude, stay with it. This guy also tends to be the guy who leaves a massive amount of space between himself and the guy in front of him, as if the brakes on his car don't work, or he expects the guy in front of him to slam on the brakes, throw the gearbox in reverse and back up.
Slow-on-the-pedals guy, I don't hate like Jerk-ass and Dirty Bastard... I just wish he'd get with it because frankly, he's the guy making the traffic back up behind him, who causes Jerk-ass to start chopping around (which scares Please-dont-hurt-me) and causes Dirty Bastard to pop onto the shoulder. He also throws Most-Efficient-Path driver off of his game, because suddenly the patterns have artificially shifted.
Here in Hawai'i, we tend to have more "Slow on the pedals" and "Please don't hurt me". In Cali, I saw much more "Jerk Ass" and "I'm not paying attention"; but also surprisingly much more MEP (Most Efficient Path) guy. Dirty Bastard is surprisingly about the same.
One thing is dramatically different about being here though -- is that with the exception of Jerk-ass and Dirty Bastard, people are all pretty much Nice Guy.
Nice Guy lets you in when you signal, and Nice Guy waves to you when you let him in. Nice Guy also doesn't honk when you accidentally cut him off (oops), and just backs up and gives you room -- and if you wave "Sorry", he'll wave back "It's cool". Nice Guy is full of something called Aloha, and it's something I forgot existed after living on the Mainland for so long. It's something nice to come home to, and it's something nice to start the day with.
* BTW, sorry to those who left comments that I haven't gotten back to yet (that'd be all of you); this is just coinciding with an extremely busy time for me! :( I'll get to them when I can.
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I had two contrasting experiences today; one where I expected too much and was sorely disappointed, and another where I wasn't expecting much but was pleasantly surprised.
Mexican Food; Hawaii vs. California
I've been back in Hawai'i for three months now, and not once have I had mexican food. I suggested to Stef today that we go try a Mexican restaurant called Compadres in the Ward Center. I told her about Compadres before, being the only Mexican restaurant that I'd ever been to in Hawai'i. I told her years ago that I didn't like Mexican food, and she told me that was because I never had good Mexican food. I had to qualify myself there, and I agreed with her, because while I was in Washington I had good Mexican food. She knew better and told me, "no, you haven't had good Mexican food yet."
It wasn't until I lived in California that I truly had good Mexican food. And I got spoiled because I had a really good Mexican restaurant less than a mile from where I was living that had fish tacos the size of my head that seeped with delicious juices every time I took a bite of the crispy goodness within. Leaving California, I knew I was going to seriously miss Mexican food.
I was right. Today, I had an insatiable craving for Mexican food. Stef and I headed to Compadres, sat down (in the middle of the Steelers-Pats game, damned Pats), and proceeded to order "Baja-style fish tacos" and "Chimichanga". In the meantime, I ordered a "back bar margarita" and they brought out some chips.
The chips were awful. They were overly salted and hard. The "Baja style fish taco" was tiny. Barely the size of my hand, much less my head (like at Casa Orozco, bless them). It was also heavily battered the way a bad Chinese restaurant overly batters things they deep-fry; and it was covered in what tasted like thousand-island dressing (wtf?) The Chimichanga reminded me of a school-lunch chimichanga. I couldn't even finish the meal, it tasted so bad. I thought of taking photos and posting a review, but I didn't want to waste the effort.
Plus, I was drunk.
The strongest Margarita ever.
Yes, the only redeeming thing about Compadres is that their back-bar margarita is heeeeellllllaaaa strong. And I have a reputation for being able to drink like a mother--. Actually, I have a reputation for being able to drink like my mother's mother (who could drink like a mother). In the course of a night, I can easily finish a 750ml bottle of 80-90 proof liquor by myself and be fine. Here, one 22oz glass of what must have been pure alcohol got me drunk enough to have me pick up food off of the table that I dropped and eat it. It got me drunk enough to not be able to pay attention to the game and Stef at the same time (usually, I can). Most of the way through lunch, I was like, "Huh...?"
Shall we dance?
Afterwards, we headed over to Restaurant Row to catch "Shall We Dance?" at the dollar theater. I have to say, whoever owns that theater is a pretty saavy businessman. He's generating so much volume that IMO he's doing better than all the other theaters. It's not all janky either. It's a nice theater. The owner buys the rights to the movies that have left normal theaters (for cheap), sells tickets for a dollar (to smaller theaters), generates literally 10x the volume that everybody else is, and makes a killing. In addition to this, the hot dogs are all $1.25 there; and who buys ONLY a hot dog? The customer will at least buy a drink, generating more profit. And maybe even popcorn. What a smart dude. Now that's how to do business.
The movie was pretty good, much better than I expected. I'm a big fan of the original Japanese version. While I have to say that the Japanese version was WAY WAY WAY better, this American adaptation was not bad for what it was. Sure, it didn't capture the same kind of cultural nuances that the Japanese version did; and it strike me the same way the Japanese version did (I thought the American version was silly, in fact), but geared towards American audiences, I think they did alright.
I really liked the scene at the end with Richard Gere and Susan Sarandon in Sak's Fifth Avenue when he comes up the escalator in the tuxedo with the red rose, and then proceedes to sweep his wife off of her feet (not literally, romantically) somewhat reminiscent of Pretty Woman. That guy is perfect for roles like that.
Shanghai, 1930
Anyway, it got me thinking again about how much I like that kind of culture. Not the ballroom dancing culture in particular, but the classy culture of men in tuxedos and cravats being gentlemen and women in evening wear being ladies. I think I was born in the wrong generation. I think I would have enjoyed life in Shanghai in the 1930's.
I even have an outfit that I like wearing once in a while that looks like it belongs in 1930's Shanghai; a double-breasted chalkstriped Ermenegildo Zegna with a herringbone vest and satin-striped white shirt and vintage chinese-print maroon suspenders and matching tie. It's too bad I don't have the opportunity to wear it more often.
I'm still craving a Fish Taco. Can somebody send me one from California? I'll trade for some Kalua Pork.
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I'm in pain.
I went diving again (well, I went diving while everybody else snorkeled) yesterday, and managed to re-aggravate the lateral collateral ligament in my left knee pretty badly (from an old football injury). I'm pretty sure it's not a tear (and if it is, it's only a Grade I tear). And I'm pretty sure it's only the LCL, because performing the tests for injury to the ACL and PCL doesn't cause any additional pain. That's the good thing. The bad thing is that even though there's no PCL damage (as far as I know), I still have instability problems (a hard time walking) and can barely make it up and down the stairs.
I'm not even really sure how I injured it either. I've been running again since the last quarter of 2004, and I haven't had any problems (though I think that's more ACL-related); and swimming is a low-impact activity -- what the hell happened? And how in the world does one injure the LCL while diving?! It's not like a 200 pound tuna came blazing out of nowhere and hit me on the inside of the knee or anything.
Right now, all I can do is RICE it and hope it gets better soon. I know the LCL heals pretty slowly, from my previous experiences. It's been a while since it's been this bad too. I'm not sure how I'm going to get around. Damnit, I just threw away the crutches too. I might end up having to go to Dr. Ma, although I don't want to. His acupuncture works, but I don't like acupuncture in general.
I'll see how it goes.
In any case, it was a productive day in the water. We spent five active hours in the water today diving (for those who could dive) and snorkeling (for those who can't dive) off of Ko'olina again. This time though, we were in a different area; and there was WAY WAY more underwater life going on. In any given spot, there was probably about 4x as much underwater life as the last place.
I actually got to dive down and follow around a wild Sea Turtle for a little bit -- I love it. Wilson and Angie have the underwater cameras with them and we're getting the photos processed today so I won't have anything to show for it until then. Hopefully I can meet up with them today before they fly back to California so I can get copies of the underwater prints from yesterday.
I had a great time yesterday, nevermind the injured LCL. I got to dive for five hours straight (in warm water), and then once the sun started going down we all got to sit around in a jacuzzi and watch the sunset from the Ko'olina Beach Club before going and having all-you-can-eat (and cook) Korean food for dinner (we were ravenous from all the physical activity). I have GOT to do this more often. THIS is the reason I moved back home, and this is the reason I should stay.
And now I leave you with this: Yesterday's sunset, from the jacuzzi, in Hawai'i, in the middle of January.
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You know, I almost forgot what it was like to sit here beside this window, here in the Study of this house in Kapolei. In Hawai'i.
I'm home.
I'll fill you all in little by little as the weeks and months go on, but there's a couple of things I should let you know about before we even start again.
The girl I used to refer to as "Taeko", her real name is Stefanie, and I'll be referring to her as such. Screw pseudonyms. I don't care anymore. Also, my name is Michael, for those of you who were curious of such a thing and didn't know. If you go back into the archives of the site I'm about to show you, you'll understand why I'm called MC too (maybe).
I'm also getting married to Stefanie later this year. Yes, I'm engaged -- and not forcibly, either. Yes, somebody has finally nailed me down. And I don't mind.
Which leads me to the reason why I have returned home to Hawai'i after spending the last five years in the San Francisco Bay Area: I've always said that when it was time to settle down, get married and start a family, I would return home. Now that I've met all three conditions, here I am -- planning my wedding and planning my life beyond.
And I'm going to be writing here, documenting all of that.
I must warn you... my writing is not as good as it used to be. I seem to have lost the ability to write well. I suspect it has to do with the new format; that the use of photographs is detracting from my ability to use words effectively... but I really don't know. Maybe I just lost it, period. Those of you who continue to stick with me, Thank you.
Those who were my friends back then and dropped me and haven't re-friended me (like many of you have re-friended me since I let you know I was back): It was nice knowing you back then. Have a nice life. (not that they'd read this anyway)
In any case, I've actually been writing since November 3rd, since I arrived back home in Hawai'i.
I've been writing here: http://diary.arenadi.net
I've also spent the last few days revising code, and linking entries I wrote over the last two months into this Livejournal and backdating them.
If you come to my actual LiveJournal page, you'll find about thirty new entries written over the last two months backdate-posted here.
Just click on the icon, and it'll take you to the formatted entry at diary.arenadi.net -- and the "comments" link at the bottom of each entry should point back to the respective LiveJournal entry. The navigational bars "Back" and "Forward" take you back and forward at diary.arenadi.net, but at any time you can return to LiveJournal.
I'm going to keep writing here. I forgot how much I missed you all. I should never have left in the first place. You guys are the greatest. I realized this, especially after starting an account over at Xanga (actually, just to comment on my cousin Frank's page, who incidentally happens to be a pretty good writer himself). Man, with the exception of a few people I've come across there (especially those who migrated here to LJ and commented here on your LJ accounts), people are mean there. I think I'm going to not even bother with them anymore. Whatever.
It's strange. I've been writing online since 1996, but I've only known most of you here from 01011000 for three or four years at the most (with the exception of a few of you like  neopam, lunesse (who's always been like a big sister to me) and this cutie who I've known, pretty much since the beginning (or at least 1997 or 1998)-- back when our online community was a local Hawaiian one. Then there's that guy who I can't mention (because his existence is secret) who I've known virtually since 1990 (15 years now, dude!). And then there's the few of you who I've dragged over from those bastards (mostly bastards, at least) at Xanga a few days ago. Amazing... such a wide range of friends here.
Anyway.
The topics I write about are different now. Life is different now, in general. I'm settled. I'm domesticated. I don't go out and party anymore. I don't go blowing it down the freeway at 180 miles an hour anymore. I drive a family car now (though I still have the Supra). For the most part, I'm pretty happy (for now, at least). Hopefully you guys will still enjoy what I'm writing about. If you don't, I forgive you in advance if you go away.
In any case, thank you all for the outpouring of welcome when I re-introduced myself a few days ago. It's great to feel welcomed again.
It's been a while, my friends. It's been a while.
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