Grandma called me up around... eh, I'd say 8:30 this morning to ask what I was doing. Well, I said that I was going to be job hunting, but nothing specific. Well, she asked if I wouldn't mind putting those shelfs that she bought together. I didn't have a problem with that, and she does sooooo much for me, so, wth. She called me back about two minutes later and said that instead, she needed me to drive her and her aunt to the home show.

Alright, here was the plan. She was coming over around 11 with Aunt Helen, and then she wanted me to chauffeur them to the home show. Between when I dropped her off, and when I was to pick them up, I could use the car to run my errands.

Great, well, I dropped her and Aunty Helen off at the Home show, and then drove to the Jensens. Mom and Dad were home, and I don't know if Andy was there but his car was. Well, I chit chatted with Mum and Dad for a wee bit, and then I made my way to Enfield. I had an application to Kohls to drop off, and an application for Bob's Stores. I picked up an application for Barnes and Noble.

Well, I had just about finished my errands and was going to make my way to Westfield. I was driving down route five in Enfield, and I go into Longmeadow. I go down that road a little when, all of a sudden, I remember that mom wanted me do grab her some applications in Enfield for the Olive Garden and I was going to grab her one for the Hazard Grille. I didn't make it.

I had just crossed from Massachusetts back into Connecticut. I was following a 1993 Plymouth Sundance, and she was following a Buick Regal. We were accelerating from a red light, and I made a point to look at a Jaguar parked on a used car lot. When I turned back, the car in front of me was either stopped or decelerating. I jumped on the breaks, but not in time. I have no idea why they stopped, or slowed down, but they did. There was no street there, and they later said that they were just going to the highway.

I rear-ended her, and she rear-ended the Buick, who, coincidentally was her boyfriend, and was really cute... but that's another story. The accident occured between Longmeadow motors, and the Mobil station, but we pulled off the road an into the Yankee Matress Factory on the corner of Route 5, and Connecticut Avenue.

We all kinda pulled in an fanned out at the end of this parking lot, and we all got out to make sure everyone was okay. THEN, OMG. There were now four cars in the parking lot, the Yankee Man, my Saturn L200, Her Plymouth Sundance, and His Buick Regal.

This guy who works in Yankee comes out, and he says to all of us, "Why don't you pull into parking spots so my customers can get in."

ME: "We just got into an accident."
YM: "I don't care, you're blocking my customers."
ME: "Well, you're, oh, so busy."
YM: "WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING USE A SIDE STREET. IF YOU DON'T MOVE YOUR CARS, I'M GOING TO CALL THE COPS"
ME: "We just got into an accident, Why don't you call the police? That might help."
Yankee Man retreated to his store, and we moved our cars. But, he came back out and starts screaming at me. "YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT, WHY DON'T YOU GET THE FUCK OUT. USE SOME GOD DAMNED FUCKING COMMON SENSE."
ME: "Excuse me, I'm not raising my voice to you. You need to calm down."
YM: "I JUST CALLED FUCKING COPS YOU FUCKING MORON."
ME: "Great, thank you."

He continued to scream. I walked over to the other cars, and asked if everything was alright, and he asked what happened. I was shaken up, and I told him that I didn't know. Meanwhile, She was balling her eyes out. I felt so bad, I thought she was probably on her way to a funeral or something and I just fucked up her day... and her car.

I go back over to the Saturn, and I call my grandmother. I told her that I just got into an accident, what do I do. She told me to take down all the information, and all that jazz. So, I went over and they were hugging and all that crap, and I just felt wicked bad. I knew it was my fault, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The police officer eventually arrived, and asked to see all of our registration and our licenses. We all filled out reports and all that crap. I called my dad, my grandmother, my aunt. I was like.. I don't know what to do. Despite not knowing what to do, as per it was my first accident, I think I handled the sitation well.

We exchanged all the information about our names, addresses, vehicles, etc. But I couldn't find a policy number for my Grandmother's insurance. I searched the car for like twenty minutes, and I found a number to a closed office. During this, the officer comes over to me, and asked me some questions.

PO: "Can you tell me about the plates on this car."
I went on to explain the sitation with the Intrepid, and how we wanted to keep the plate blah, blah, blah.
PO: "Well, the computer says that the registration has expired."
ME: "What?!"
PO: "It says that the insurance was canceled because the registry never recieved the old plates."
ME: "There must be some mistake, we transferred the plates... I was there."
PO: "I have to go by what the computer says. There is a good chance that it's just a clerical error, and someone at the registry just hit the wrong button."
ME: "It has to be, but, what happens to the car."
PO: "Well, it'll have to be impounded, and I'll have to issue you a citation for driving a vehicle that isn't registered."
ME: "WHAT?! HOW DO I GET HOME?! There must be some mistake.. this is ridiculous."
PO: "We'll have a tow truck come down here, you can probably hitch a ride with him back to wherever."
ME: "Do you mind if I call my grandmother?"
I call grandma, and I tell her about the registration thing, and then I hand her off to the officer, who tells her everything he just told me. I could tell she was mad. After he spoke with her, he went back to his cruiser computer.

I go back to finding a policy number, and now I have to take inventory of whats in the car to make sure that nothing gets stolen. I called my dad and asked if he could come pick me up and bring me home. Useless as usual, he says I need to call my mom. I find a policy number and walk over to Her, who has composed herself, and gave her my policy number. We started chatting, and she said that she had to wait for a tow truck. She doesn't know if her car runs, but she doesn't want to tempt it.

I go back to my car, and the cop comes back over and says that he found an active registration on the car and that I can drive it home. I almost hugged him.

Anyways, we hung around for a little longer, and the police officer eventually left. I walked back over to Him and Her, and asked if everything was settled. They said that they were just going to wait for the tow truck, and they thanked me for being so cooperative. I told them again, that I was sorry for hitting them.

The cop only issued me a written warning and not a citation, and he said that he only did so because he had to assign blame to someone. I think he let me off easy because... there was no plausible reason for them to be slowing down or stopping given their destination.

I get back in the car, and I back it up. Frank Sinatra was playing on the CD player. I had already listened to her Celine Dion CD, and moved on to Old Blue Eyes. I get out and really inspect the damage. Which is really minor. The clips holding the headlights in broke, but are easily replaced. There is red paint on the bumber, and a small dent below the bonnet emblem. Other than that, she's fine. Its fortunate that it was lined up and that nothing was majorly knocked out of alignment.

Phil is bitching at me to hurry up, and I'm just writing this to extend the time a wee bit longer.

In other news, Terri Shiavo just wants to die. Just let her die.

I guess that's all.

¶ 14:49

I'm sitting in the Meadows Music Theatre, in the JO-DI's booth. If I paid for my seat, it would be expensive.

The volume has finally been turned down on account of the coming awards ceremony. These events are fun, they would be more fun if you weren't as obligated as I am.

Well, the awards ceremony has started. Yay. I don't know if we'll get anything, but who cares, we had fun.

Sam, Phil and I are having issues. We're all a little to blame, but I have faith that it'll be worked out. I just want to say that... I don't like hanging out in Sam's room and doing nothing. Sure, I don't get to see you, but I've got plenty to do where staying home would be better for me.

Also, I'm sorry if I'm tired and that I need to go to bed. I can't function without X-amount of sleep, and I go to bed when I'm tired. I need to start drinking hard-core coffee like the rest of the world...

WELL. You wouldn't know it, but I had to take a break. We won our second Kliener Perkins Caufield & Byers Entrepreneurship Award because I wrote a business plan that is "the envy of modern corporations." As you could imagine, I'm pumped. This panel of judges, most of them Doctors and business leaders, say that we have an awesome business plan.

The first time we won the award, we were at the BAE Granite State Regional, and we had put together a charter. Part of me wants to say it was a team effort, but I put in ten times more effort and time than anyone else. But, it doesn't matter, we won.

Anyway, back to the Phil and Sam drama. Actually, no. I don't care about that anymore.

Billie Jean is playing, I have to go tell Nicole. Caio, babes.

¶ 16:23

Still job hunting. Nothing new to report.

IM me at Blu47nav if you want to talk. I don't know when I'll update this again.

Could be tomorrow, could be never. Who knows?

TT

¶ 18:54

It's snowing, and it was a great episode of 24.

Not much more to report.

¶ 16:26

I'm currently listening to Queen's I Want to Break Free, and it adequately sums up my mood.

There is so much drama around my house that I just. I. Just. Want. To. Throw. Up. Dad is taking Mom to court for some reason that I don't know about, and some reason that I don't care about. Mom is pissed and is pumping a stressed atmosphere into the house. As a result everyone is irritable, and obnoxious.

Dad is being an asshole in general. He has stopped paying child support indefinately. Mom, being unemployed, has become rather accustomed to the eagle, and has been ripped. Now, I guess, she'll have to get a real job. I know I should be siding with my mother, but, to be honest, I just want nothing to do with either of them. They've both made stupid choices which are now falling on me and breaking my back.

I'm stressed beyond belief, but I'm doing a good job to hide it. I have a research paper that's past due, a physics lab past due, Robotics has been placed on the back burner, I'm trying to find a job, as well as a car, I have this student government thing that's breathing down my neck, and some of my friends are considering an apartment building prospect (which is feasible, but requires a lot of commitment. I'd hate to back out and have them not work on it.) . I already had a vacation, but I didn't do any of the school work I should have. That's no one's fault but mine, but its still eating me.

The cherry on the sundae, of course, is my orthodontist, who, after I'd asked a simple question, told me that I was "pissing [him] off." That's real proffessional, ain't it? Well, I simply laughed, pointed at my braces and calmly reminded him that "these are pissing me off." As I look back, he snapped and I kept my cool; It was pretty funny. My argument was simple: The overall condition of my teeth and dental health has deteriorated to a point of less that what it was before I put the braces on. They were put on to A)see if it would help with my migraines, B) fix my TMJ, and C) fix an overbite. It has only done C, but additional things have arisen which have compromised C. It's also created a whole bunch more problems. After a lot of arguing, I don't have to wear that ridiculous rubber band down the front of my face anymore. They aren't coming off anytime soon, but we're experimenting with some new procedures to see if it might hasten the process. I've already given these things two years of my life; That's how long they said it'd take.

Anyway, some good things have happened today, too. I hung out with Dan for a wee bit, and I really miss it. We aren't as close anymore, but I'm going to work on it. Dan and I are both running for Editor-in-chief for the Yearbook next year. DUN DUN DUN.

That brings me back to another point. Phil and I have been at each other's throats lately, and I don't know why. I just want things to be like they were... in the good old days.

That's not everything I had planned to write, but that's all I can remember. My memory has been acting odd lately, I forget things that I never used to forget. I have trouble remembering having done things, or having said things. It really scares me because I don't know what's going on. I can't think of anything that might have caused it. Sam and Phil just laugh at me, but I'm genuinely concerned.

Well, I have some more to write, two applications to fill out, an invitation to make, and some crap to fax. I'm going to bed early, even though I want to see LAO: TBJ.

I know why people drink so much.
*sigh* Oh, well. Que Sera, Sera. TTFN.

¶ 20:18