I am sooo excited to see it, you have no idea. And I think it's opening tomorrow night! At least at one area theater. Yay!

So he continued his walk and brushed passed me.

Asshole.

I should develop some decency and either shout obscenities at people like that or push them.

Also, my credit score has dropped 40 points in the last month. Probably due an overdraft dilemma last week. (I meant to put money from PayPal into my bank, but did the opposite. Twice. Stupid.)

Remember the whole washer/dryer moving quagmire? Several weeks ago, I came home to find the washing machine removed from the closet. About 20 minutes later a maintenance guy came in and told me the downstairs neighbors reported that their was a leak in their washing closet.

I felt pretty bad because I knew that the hoses didn't have a perfect seal, and that a little bit of water did leak, but I thought the extent of it was just the molding on the walls. So he fixed it up, and went on his way.

I put laundry in about an hour ago. Maybe thirty minutes into it, I heard this rush of water that sounded like a bathtub faucet. The windows were open, so I figured something must be going on outside. I shut the windows and came back to the computer, but I still heard that water.

Then it hit me.

From beneath the closet, a pool of water started forming on the carpet. I opened the door and saw the entire floor filled with water. I shut the washing machine off and stuck a towel under (which needs to be changed in a minute).

So we're thinking of just renting a machine through the landlords at $50/month. Someone professional can make sure things are perfect, and we'll have a usable dryer for once. Or we can just buy our own. In either case, I hope the professionals will take our old machine off our hands and dump it. We'll pay them if needed, because it's pure hell to move that thing.

And no, I'm not going into the office today. I don't even know if it's worth it to let my supervisor know I'll be working from home, because no one really knows I'm there. Meh.

In the end, things went fairly well. Lots of family wanting to take pictures. Someone being pushy about Asma and I changing into Bengali dresses. People getting in our face about mahr. It was a long day and there were lots of pictures, but I think everyone enjoyed themselves.

Did I mention getting lost/detoured on George Washington Parkway? Because it happened again on Sunday when we were coming back from the hotel my family was staying at. We ended up on the far southeast side of DC because the roads and highways here suck.

So yeah, Sunday was the day we were supposed to spend with friends, which didn't work out quite so smoothly because everyone was leaving at different times. I spent way too much time on the metro and dragged Ryan along for a good chunk of it. In the end, it was me, Asma, and Ryan watching Chapelle's Show (season 2) until a bit late. Ryan's never seen it before, believe it or not.

He left the next day and then we went to the hotel my family was staying at (a new one). We didn't stay too long, though, because we had to come back and clean the apartment. I thought it'd be nice to treat both our families to dinner, and then have them come to the apartment afterwards for tea and dessert. At least that way they could spend some time outside of the wedding crowd and get a chance to say goodbye before my family left.

Of course, they ended up being an hour late. Something about missing a stop to switch lines and having to wait for the trains (which ran every 12 minutes). I was pissed. Not only were they not making a good impression, but it was a weeknight, they were leaving the next day, and the metro stops running at midnight. Dinner and stuff went as well as it could have, but still, being rushed sucks. My dad should know better after all the years of coming to DC on what stops to be aware of.

That would be grievance #2 with my dad. The first was because I told my dad he should've found a hotel in Bethesda. The way he explained it a couple of weeks before, it sounded like they'd be staying at the hotel in Virginia all five days, and that it was close to his conference. The whole being late thing wouldn't have happened if he wasn't being…his usual stubborn self? Sigh.

I'm starting to feel that things didn't go well in the end. But I'm tired and a bit cranky.

There was something really sweet though. As we left Asma's house Saturday night, her mom held a Qur'an over our heads for us to walk under as we left, and her grandmother threw some water behind us to symbolize washing away the past. When we got to our hotel room, my mom's older sister threw some rose petals on and along our path into the room, and we were fed sweets.

As annoying as one or a mob of family members can be, they are well-intentioned. It's just knowing how to deal with or avoid their nuisances.

Yay for Ikea.

Asma is a pretty bride. And now that she's my wife, she'll learn to help with laundry and dishes finally. Right? Suspense.

After only a few hours of sleep we started the day.

The plans? Go with the girls and Asma's mom (Haleh), grandmother, and sister (Mona) to the mall, take the car to Best Buy to buy a speaker system, exchange my current jacket for a new jacket at Banana Republic and also find shoes, and then rent a car and meet my entire family at the hotel, at which point we'd come together as a big group. Haleh was having a logistical problem, though, since she had to pick the girls up from the hair salon and also had to be at home to guide the caterer and helpers. I offered to help but she thought she'd be okay.

There was an initial hiccup with the rental car, in that the rental office nearest to us didn't have any available. On my way to Best Buy, I called Enterprise and asked for a rental office in the area and managed to reserve a car. Awesome.

When I got back to the mall, I told Haleh about the car and asked if she could give me a ride there. When we'd left the mall (I had my entire outfit at that point), we stopped by a Persian grocery store first to get some fruits. She was still worried about being able to pick up the girls, so I offered again to help and this time she accepted. She then dropped me off at the rental office at 12:30.

I walked into the office and told the guy (Andre) that I had a reservation. He said that they closed at 12 and that he might not have a car, but that he'd check once he brought back a car for the guy he was helping at the moment.

I tried calling Haleh to let her know that I might not get a car after all, but no one answered. Andre came back and told me that there were no more cars. So now I really started to get worried, because I couldn't get through to Haleh. I continued to call, and left a message. After about 15 minutes of trying to get ahold of someone, Andre informed me that he just got a couple of cars back and that I had a choice between a Durango and some pick-up. I chose the Durango. When he found out about the wedding happening in just a few hours he asked me how I could even appear fairly calm. Dunno, actually.

Things were starting to look up again. I went to the mall and picked up Asma, Carly, and Christine. We drove to the apartment but before I got there, I dropped them off at some Vietnamese nail place, because they wanted pedicures. I said I could handle getting ready and loading the centerpieces and other things into the car, and that I'd pick them up soon.

So I pretty much did all that, getting sweaty in the process. I had to sacrifice taking a shower on the day of my wedding (even after not having showered for two days already), and I obviously wasn't able to get my dirty nails cleaned, shaped, and polished, but it had to be done. The groom is not meant to be pretty and clean.

We were making good time in the end. I picked up the guys and dropped them off at the house, then went back to the apartment to wait for my family (the parking lot would be the new meeting spot). A couple of my dad's friends were already there, and my mom told me I had to invite them in instead of making them wait in the car, even if the apartment was messy.

The worst part is that my family was so late in starting. They also had problems getting a rental car (instead of two minivans, they ended up with one big van). So I kept pacing around, counting the minutes and feeling like shit because things were being held up.

My dad's friend Bashir asked for cold water, but I didn't have that so I offered him cold flavored water instead, since there was nothing else cold in the refrigerator. His wife asked in Bangla if he was sure it was water and not something else. Like alcohol.

I'll refrain from adjectives and just say that that was low and uncalled for. It was the first time in two or three years since I'd seen them, and only the first time since I moved to the area. And I don't know how she could even think of saying that, but I really don't want anything to do with them anymore.

So finally, after an hour's delay, my family came. And we left for the house, with my older cousin Roni driving the Durango with me, my brother, Bobby (Roni's younger brother), Ovi (oldest of cousins after me and Roni), and Anabil.

I was feeling great, for sure.

Thursday, Waiting for 400 roses

I got a call from Himena at RoseSource.com. She told me on voicemail that DHL attempted a delivery but no one answered—I called back but was told that she was busy; I left my name and number. This was confusing, though, since I hadn't gone anywhere that morning, and I didn't have a delivery notice on my door. I checked the tracking number she told me on the DHL site and things looked okay.

Apparently, they had apartment ‘Z’ and not ‘2’ on the address. I think a person with half a brain could piece those two things together, but whatever. The guy I talked to said he made the address correction and would alert the driver for another delivery attempt today. Asma came home from some errands, and her mom wanted me to go over to the house to help painting. So I did that while Asma waited for the delivery.

5:30 came around and there was still no delivery. I called DHL again and a guy told me that the message never got through to the driver. Idiots. He said that they can send a special courier out that night and that we'd have them by 8. I said fine, just send them to Asma's parents' house.

It was nearly 8:15 and we still didn't have flowers. I called again and the lady that picked up told me the package is there with her. What the fuck? I asked about the special courier, and apparently she didn't know anything about it and told me they'll deliver it tomorrow.

—Could I pick it up tonight?
—Well, we close at 8:30.
—I need those flowers tonight. They're perishable. Someone told us he'd send a special courier and that never happened.
—I can stay until 8:40 and that's it.

Generous bitch.

So we raced over to Rockville and picked up the package. Unfortunately, it was only half the flowers. We asked the lady if there were any other packages for us and she told us no. She said there's only one package for the tracking number. We called RoseSource.com a few times and left messages, and I also sent them an e-mail. All we could do was wait, and prep ourselves to hunt for 200 white roses around town the next day.

Also, I ordered another wedding dress for Asma because the one she currently had was a little too tight. The dress was going to be shipped overnight, which we thought was awesome. And Derek came into town that night.

Friday, Lost, found, stalled

Himena called in the morning and said that all the roses shipped fine. It was then that she told me of the other tracking number. When we looked at the status online we saw that it had arrived in a DHL facility in Allentown, Pennsylvania. How fucked up is that?

Asma called DHL this time and the guy informed her that they'd messed up the zipcode. The zipcode. So when it clearly states Bethesda, Maryland, that doesn't matter because the zipcode is pointing to somewhere else and that's clearly the most logical place to ship it to because it's more common to get an entire city and state wrong than a few digits in the zipcode.

Anyway, he said that they fixed their error and that it would be at the apartment today (which actually happened).

Good. Now we don't have to hunt for flowers.

The dress came in that morning, but that turned out to be disastrous at the time. It looked too big on Asma, and the lace trim wasn't the same as on the smaller-sized dress. We dragged Derek to Tyson's Corner, to the Jessica McClintock store in hopes of exchanging it for a replacement dress, or the same dress with the trim that Asma had hoped for.

Our plan before we left was to go to the store, pick up Carly from the airport, drop Derek off at a metro station [so that he could check in to his hotel and get Andrew from National Airport], then go to Asma's parents' house to set up the canopy, tables, and chairs in the backyard.

The trip to Jessica McClintock was useless, we were a little late in picking up Carly, and rush hour traffic was already building up. Asma suggested a shortcut we turned out not to be any sort of shortcut, so we changed plans to drive directly to National Airport and meet Andrew. Andrew, however, couldn't get off the plane for nearly an hour because of some backup at the gate.

So now it's just me, Asma, and Carly driving back from the airport. We ended up getting lost on the George Washington Parkway (this is the third it's happened to Asma and I, with three different drivers now) and wound up in Arlington, Virginia. Another hour down the drain.

By the time we get back to the apartment we're over three hours behind schedule and her parents are pissed off at us. But we manage to get the backyard setup (with the help of Christine, who we picked up later that night). I also picked up Ryan from Dulles, but I couldn't be at National to greet my parents and brother, because it was logistically impossible.

Carly, Christine, Asma, and I were up until past 3 AM getting the centerpieces arranged. Wedding was about 12 hours away now.

I've filled out the paper work for the marriage license. Ryan, as an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church, will sign them after breakfast and before I drop him off at the metro station. Then it's legal for real.

Many more details to come, but all the disasters leading up to it weren't all too bad in the end. I guess. Still stressful as hell. Bah.

Overall, it was a great time. I feel bad for not being able to spend proper time with friends and family, but I suppose that's to be expected in a three-day period?

Christine and Carly were immensely helpful in the final preparations. It's hard to see things coming together completely without them.

There's too much to do.

I really wish the wedding had stayed to no more than 20 people. Sigh.

Of which one, Dennis, sits in the cubicle next to me. And I feel guilty that I don't talk to him much, or even say say bye when I leave. I kind of just duck out.

I dunno. I'm so timid with initiating some social contact. Weak. Blah.

And from that avoidance, I've upset an important person. The circumstances are perhaps a bit unfair in terms of my expected behavior, so I won't take the entire blame, but I should've at least done my part. Even if it is a bit old-fashioned.

Blah times two.

I'm getting married in six days. Eek. There's still a house to point, and everything to put together by Saturday. I'm really nervous that so many people are going to be there, because I don't like being the center of attention, especially in a big crowd.

Animals are amazing creatures. I wonder what neural pathways allow them to sense weather shifts and incoming natural disasters? People with migraines tend to have some sensitivity to weather changes, which is an interesting implication of having an extra sense.

What are humans capable of if they can use more parts of their brains? Are we even able to handle it? ‘Natural Genius’ on The Economist's website talks about a possible link between certain diseases and increased intelligence. It just seems like people with amazing abilities have some sort of deep-rooted problem.

I suppose that when we get to a point in the future when we start to unlock more and more of the body's secrets, this world will start to really end, not just degrade into inequalities.

Oh, and by accident, I caught ‘Trapped in the Closet’ on BET or something a little over a week ago. R. Kelly isn't a great songwriter in this song, and his style isn't mindblowing, but he managed to hook me on this series of songs. The first one ends with the husband of the woman he's about to sleep with coming home to find R. Kelly hiding in the closet. The second song ends with the husband revealing his lover, which turns out to be a man.

There are three more songs in the storyline, I think. Gotta catch 'em all. I do hope that the last set of songs have more variation in the actual music.

he looks at the closet
i pull out my beretta
he walks up to the closet
gets close up to the closet
now he's at the closet
now he's opening the closet

I have a bias against most dance music, but I find nothing redeeming in hers. Jamiroquai is good. M.I.A. is formulaic jungle beats with a dash of unintelligible, British-accented raps. Everytime I think of her the music comes across as boomp, shawalla shawalla, boomp, sha-bang-bang.

Maybe I'm soulless, but I don't get what people see in her music or how she got so popular. Rebel my ass.

I think music reviews should be on a scale of 1 to 10 and no more. What can reviewers really accomplish if the words they write aren't going to play the music in your ears? Positive and negative reviews are filled with arrogance and pompousness and should never go beyond a short paragraph or two.

Take a queue from me, world.

Unfortunately, I got the first name wrong: it was Kevin.

Wedding things are coming along ok. But I'm having a hard time trying to finish up a freelance project while doing everything else. I would like a good night's rest.

But not until I order 400 roses. I hope our handmade centerpieces kick ass.

Fun fact: I'm making $5 more an hour than my highest paying job prior to graduating college. I love my valuable engineering diploma from a top-ranked institution and high skill set and abilities! Sure-fire way to make a good living!!!

Asma's Grandmother [in Farsi]
You should offer Kaiser some more rice.

Asma [translating]
She said you should take more rice.

Me
Ok, I will once I finish this.

Asma's Mom [in Farsi]
He's shy, but not shy around food. He can handle it.

Asma's Grandmother [in Farsi]
What a fatty.