killerwhaletank

Q: Let's say that someone, for the sake of argument her name's Manda, was thinking about buying tickets to the Coca Cola 600. But she has no idea where to sit. Does anyone have any suggestions?

A: stickhandleme: On Chad Knaus' lap.

Wonder how much that seat would go for? First born? Well worth it.

Me: Seriously. Who the hell finds Jeremy Mayfield sexually attractive??

If you fit this bill, please let me know, and let me know why, because I'm really curious.

Um... yeah.

Suffice to say, there are going to be some changes around here. And not just to my journal (I'm not sure if I want the Vegas or NYC cityscape for a header yet and ooo, if someone could help me change the font I'd forever be in their debt), but to me as well. For starters, I went through and redid a bunch of my memories, mainly because now they're more easily visible. It's fun to go through your old entries and see how you used to be. I may start doing this on a regular basis, just to remind myself that, yes, things are better now. They're much much better.

One boy will be on tonight, and that's because he has a wedding to go to. If you know which one I'm talking about, and would like to speak to any of the other boys, either let me know through that name or my OOC screen name.

I made a reference to Xanadu in my writing journal. Just... so you know.

Hoo-rah.

Woke up with serious heartburn this morning, thanks to the cold pizza I munched on last night. My tailbone also hurts like a bitch, like someone spanked me something fierce last night. I don't know if I'm going to last the rest of the day. When I do get home Dad's going to help me set my laptop up so that I can print from Sanchez, which would mean that I could just bring my work home with me and finish it from there. I'm already clocked out for 3:00, so I may just leave then.

And it just got insanely dark. And now the sky's amber. Fuck. Rain, rain go away.

Panda's got me addicted to these writing communities. My only problem is that I'll make a claim at a site, start it, get about 25% of the way through it, and then bail. I did it with fanfic100, I did it with sports_abc50, and I'll do it with the last two I signed up for. Speaking of communities, I need five Writer's Choice for 50kinkyways. I may also need some help deciphering some of those prompts, as I'm not all that up on the kinkiness. Also, mystik78 I may need a certain person's help in playing some of those out, if you know what I mean... *wink wink*

I would just like to sit back and write all day today. I really would. It's not going to happen, but it would be amazing if it did. If I finished this floodway data table, and brought home the Mercer County report I think I'd be okay, but... it's not what I'm supposed to be working on. What I'm supposed to be working on is that damn First Neshanic River HEC-RAS model. I have everything except for the encroachment stations, I believe, and have absolutely no idea how to set said encroachment stations. I mean, I have an idea, an inkling, but nothing more than that. *sigh* I guess I'll just ask JJ on Monday, because I'm really not in the mood to deal with him.

EDIT: TORNADO WARNING?! I can't fucking take this. I go read the weather.com thing and it's telling me Harlem and Morningside Heights (which are in New York fucking City), and the Nancy comes over and tells me that that's in fucking Bergen County! That's all I fucking need. ALL I FUCKING NEED!! I'm gonna go run and hide now. Yeah. This is turning out to be the best week evah! [/sarcasm]

Picked Dad up from Rhino Linings at 9:30, which is earlier than he expected me there, but later than I had anticipated. Panda tried waking me up at 5:11 this morning telling me I was late, at which point I proceeded to fuck with my alarm clock... and turn off the alarm. Still woke up at 7:30 and got out of her house as a decent time. I... really have no idea what she was talking about this morning, which further proves that we're quite the pair when we're talking in our sleep. I don't even have a clue what she said, but I know I laughed at her. Ah, I love her so.

I, um... yeah. Rough night last night. Already talked about it, so there's nothing else to talk about. Not that concerns anyone who can't see that entry, anyway.

One year ago today, Tropical Depression 12 formed in the Atlantic. This little tropical depression grew and grew and got itself a real name: Katrina.

Pluto was demoted as a planet. Given the 'Sports Night' reference, I totally feel Natalie's pain here.

Not much of an update? Well, there really isn't much for me to say. I fell asleep several times on the way in this morning, and didn't get lost trying to find the Rhino Linings place that Dad was at. I'm going home tonight, and maybe staying there Friday night as well. If that's the case I'm gonna leave Saturday morning with Andy and some other things. Possibly even my desk. But that's only if that futon's dismantled. And if not, I can help with that when I get home.

If you spoke to me last night, you got a little taste of the real emo!Manda. That's not fun. I hate it when she comes out to play.

I don't know who fell asleep first. All I know is I slept.

En route to the office this morning I got hammered by this large rock flying off of some skanky-ass dump truck and dinged my windshield. Not enough of a ding to have to go get Irwin emergency surgery, but enough to get me kicking and screaming at the fucker in the dump truck.

I think I broke my office chair. It's considerably lower to the ground than it used to be.

Ten weeks, people. Ten. And yes, because I'm balls-to-the-wall crazy, I am going to attempt the Nano thing again. I encourage all who write, and all who can find their muses, to join me. Who knows. Maybe if we're feeling frisky enough we can have a meet-up somewhere. I'd be down for a vacation in November, especially to somewhere warmer than Pennsylvania.

For some odd reason my brand spankin' new Bluetooth headset is quote "fuzzy, Amanda, it's fuzzy as hell." Do I have to set up the phone so that it's not all that fuzzy? And yes, I know I should read the book. But the book's back home and I'm not going to be there until Friday evening. *pause* I'm going home Friday and Saturday nights, if only to grab a few remaining things. Small things. Like 'House: Season 2', and Andy.

Speaking of Andy, I'm thinking of adding a 60GB hard drive to him, and putting all of my music on this new hard drive. If I do that I'll free up something like 30GB of space on Andy for other more important things. Off the top of my head I can't think of what that would be, but I know there must be something.

I need to get tickets for the State Fair. I don't know how many days Matt and Tricia plan on spending at the fair, but I think we'll be good for one. That'll give us the liberty of going to the Falls if we so choose. Hmm. Maybe while I'm up there I can use my UBCard and pilfer some more Microsoft products. I should check on the website first...

Fuck me.

The only time I've ever needed at the office is when I'm not here. I shit you not. And because I don't have a cell phone (say that last bit with a little sarcasm), they can't call me and ask-slash-tell me what they need of me. Fuckers. All of them.

Was Chad at that testing of the Car of Tomorrow yesterday? 'Cause I saw one picture of the Hendrick car, and there was a gentleman with those sneakers, and that khaki hat working on the car, and I could only assume that it was Chad. Who else would wear khaki? Looked like his bum as well *wink wink* Speaking of Chad, I think I'll update for him today. Oh, and OMG Marty Smith and Robby Gordon! *squee* I heart Robby. I heart him so.

I rock out to 'SexyBack', and I'm no longer afraid to admit it.

I downloaded Avant Browser so that I no longer have to use Internet Explorer. For anything. And it's good. Sanchez is... well... it's still doing what it was doing before, but I just think that has something to do with my anti-virus/spyware software. I think. I hope. It better not have anything to do with something I downloaded, because all I downloaded was Trillian, Mozilla, and Avant. Oh, and Snood.

I'm sorry I'm so cross. I couldn't for the life of me fall asleep last night. I kept telling Panda to go to bed 'cause it was the light from Fernando (her computer) that was badgering me, but even after she passed out I still couldn't fall asleep. My eyes burned like someone splashed acid in them. I tried snuggling up to her, but she was out cold and the point was kind of moot because I kind of wanted to be snuggled back. So I turned back over and stared at the clock, in hopes that maybe I could get time to speed up so I could just get out of bed and go to work. I finally did fall asleep, and surprisingly heard the alarm clock go off this morning, to tell me that it was time to get up and start another glorious day.

I'm going to the Apple Store today to ask a question or two.

Narnia is an amazing fucking movie.

Snakes On A Plane. "I am sick and tired of these muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane!" Do I... have to say anything more?

Panda got a MacBook today. She got a MacBook, along with the 30GB U2 iPod. She's currently in the process of downloading all of the updates and whatnot. Oh, and... did I mention that the guy who sold the shit to us looked like an Australian Jamie McMurray? Mhm. 'Cause he DID. Oh, I got a little warm and tingly in the girly parts, I'm not gonna lie.

I'm tired, so I think I'm going to sleep. I also think I'm going to the Geek Squad tomorrow and tell them I want my computer wiped and I want to start from scratch, because this is complete bullshit. Absolute, complete bullshit. I know there are things on here that I'm not going to easily be able to get back (read: ArcGIS, WISE Tools, AutoCAD), but I don't think I care. I'm sick and feckin' tired of this. *sigh* I've got the spyware and anti-virus disks, and can either buy a new copy of Office or jack the copy from the office. So we may do this tomorrow, just because.

Anyhoo, I'm gonna fic for a while before I pass out. Finish my Chad/Kyle drug fic perhaps.

9:30. That is what time my Snood-lovin' ass got into the office this morning. Can you believe that shit? I was fucking impressed. My boss and JJ were also impressed, and then we sat down with FEMA and told them why this whole project sucks giant Mag-Lite cock. But I can't complain because it pays the bills, AND we just awarded the contract for Task #5, so huzzah for having work until at least the end of 2007. I can only hope that I'm not going to be here that long. Now all we have to do is cut through all of the "Republican bullshit nonsense" that FEMA puts our asses through.

While they went through the part of the meeting that had nothing to do with me, I went through and put together an On-the-Go playlist that has roughly 200 songs on it. I'm hoping to only have to go through 70 of those on the way home from work, but we'll see what the afternoon brings us.

I feel like I burned my tongue.

There is nothing like finding out that the chick who played Hannah Nefler is the lead singer of Rilo Kiley. I think that made my Friday.

*pause* What. Everything I had to say this morning went into a locked entry that appeared earlier this morning because I didn't feel like airing everyone's dirty laundry out in the open for everyone else to see. So... if you're not privy, if it doesn't concern you, you weren't invited. I'm sorry. Those are the rules.

Q: How big of a dork is The Manda?

A: She woke up this morning with an absolutely insatiable urge to play Snood. So, while at work, she logged onto LimeWire and downloaded a fully registered copy. And has pretty much been playing it non-stop. If only for the "doo-doo-doo!" noise that it makes.

Power Rankings:

Jimmie Johnson: I guess you saw where Hendrick Motorsports extended Chad Knaus' contract. I hope they extended car chief Darien Grubb's contract, too, just in case Knaus is placed back on suspension.

Kurt Busch: I can just see the marriage vows.
"Do you promise to love this man even as he performs those hideous snow angels?"

Denny Hamlin: TV showed Jimmie Johnson walking and chewing gum at the same time. When Denny tries to do that, he nearly chokes to death.

Jamie McMurray: Did you see him when those pre-race fireworks went off? He jumped three feet in the air. And he was still shorter than Michael Waltrip.

~*~

*gasp* Whoa! Shocker there! We saw this coming thirty miles away. Why? Because Johnny Depp and Tim Burton have been in bed together since Edward Scissorhands, that's why. Well, that and after his impressive performances as Cap'n Jack Sparrow (in two movies which I am yet to see), as well as his pedophilic performance as the new Willy Wonka, he just seemed like the logical choice.

I'm still infuriated, although this time for a different reason. Yesterday got better, and when I got home I was in a good mood. Even went to Taco Bell with Panda, Justin and Tanner. Went to sleep in a good mood, even woke up that way, too. And yet, as soon as I got to work and checked my e-mail? *sigh* I'm going to come out the biggest loser in this situation, I really am. I'm trying to make everyone happy, and instead I'm just pissing people off. I should just throw in the towel. Give up. It's not fun anymore. Come to think of it, I'm not sure if it was ever fun. Actually... no, I take that back. Back in the day, when I was Bryan Berard? That was fun.

Oh my sweet Jebus. It's official. Although you're no longer sponsored by M&M's, you'll always be The Candyman in my heart. *pause* Wait a second. *ruffles through the papers* Evernham? As in... the same team as Kasey? As in... Kasey and Elliott are going to be teammates? *sniffs the air* Anyone else smell some ficcage? I do. I smell a dirty almost-het threesome, too. Speaking of fics, I've started working on those that were proposed to me last night. They're tucked safely away on Sanchez, so I won't get to work on them until I get home.

Dad showed up at the office and brought me my mail, which included my $700 Bank of America credit card bill, my credit report, the power cord for Panda's computer, and Simpsons season eight. Oh, and some Lowe's Racing magazine with Kyle racing RC cars in the parking lot at lunch. Dad also said something about Jimmie Johnson being in love with me and wanting to be my love slave. I told him he had the right team, wrong team player. And then he said something about making Chad Knaus my bitch. That was pretty much when I stopped paying attention.
Jess, are you working this weekend?

Infuriated is a word I seldom use, but to describe how I felt this morning? I think it would work splendidly. I also don't think we're taking that trip this weekend, unless you'd really like to. In which case we don't even have to stay the whole weekend. I'm just so... you have no idea. Maybe you can help calm me down, Panda, because right now?

On the way to the office late this morning -- it was late this morning because I had an appointment at Saturn of Route 33, which has wireless internet, this morning -- I seriously debated writing a "I'm going to go home and slit my wrists, please don't worry about me, please don't contact me, I just want to die and get it over with" entry, but refrained. I was insanely riled up this morning by a phone call from the home office. All I wanted to do was get in my car and drive as hard and fast, and without blinkers to boot, as I could, and I did. And it still took me an hour and a bloody half to get to the office. *pause* Okay, granted that was from Saturn, and Saturn's a good fifteen minutes from I-78, so if you take that into account it wasn't that bad a trip.

Oh, and when I got here Roger wasn't even here, and from the looks of it hadn't been here all morning. That pissed me off even further. But JJ listening to "Rock You Like A Hurricane" and "Eye of the Tiger" kind of made up for all of that. Kind of.

So I sat in Saturn this morning and tried to finish that fic that I was working on last night, that fic that I had started close to three months ago, and I hit writer's block. And then I asked my fellow fic readers and writers to help a sister out. And that definitely did work, because I did start on the first challenge I was offered. I wanted them to be drabbly, but I don't know if that's going to work. I may also post them all in one entry and let you all figure out who asked for what. So far I've got three requests, all of which I've had thoughts about, so this should be easier than it looks.

Emphasis on the should.

Panda's mom told me this morning that it was raining. I groaned, knowing full-well that no one knows how to drive in the rain. Sighing as I climbed into my car I pulled out onto the highway, and traffic really didn't let up until I got north of I-80 on I-287. Fuckers can't fucking drive in the fucking rain. Fuckers. Here are a few simple rules:

1. Don't speed. And when I say don't speed, I'm not saying do just below the posted speed limit to be safe. I'm saying don't do your usual 90 in a 65. Bring it down to 75 at the most.
   
2. That law, about having your headlights on while you're running your wipers? It's in place for a reason. People can see you if you've got your headlights on. Running lights that aren't the yellow parking lights can be an exception to this rule in my book, mainly because you're visible.
   
3. Don't fucking cut trucks off. This goes for dry weather conditions as well. Trucks slamming on their brakes cause jack-knifing, among other things, and generally annoy the fuck out of morning commuters.
   
4. There is no greater chance of you getting pulled over for speeding in the rain than there is on a sunny day.

I think for now that's good. If you can come up with anymore, leave 'em here. I'll add 'em to the list.

shifty!Alan, if you're seeing this, give me a sign that you still want to play. Right now I've got phoenix!Chad in the gallows and he's fearing for his life. And there's just no way you met someone from Mahopac who looked like Kasey. They don't exist. Mahopac's roughly the size of Epcot Center, so I think I'd know and totally be friends with him, even if he was, like, twelve or something :-p

I feel strange. Mainly because I have nothing to complain about.

I have my first appointment with Saturn of Route 33 on Wednesday morning, and they said it's going to take close to two hours to do everything that they need to do -- they also, very nicely I might add, told me that it's going to be roughly $300, but they were nice about it so I can't fault 'em -- and I'm sitting here at my desk, debating whether or not I just want to work from home on Wednesday. (EDIT: Looks like taking the day off is going to be a bust. But I'm only going to work, like, a half-day, so it shouldn't be that bad. Unless something really goes wrong with my car.) When Roger leaves today, because he will undoubtedly leave before I do, I'll tell him that I'm most likely going to not be in on Wednesday. I'm sure he'll just love that. I also need to ask for the Friday and Tuesday of Labor Day Weekend off because I WILL BE IN SYRACUSE FOR THE STATE FAIR AND, IN ESSENCE, WILL BE IN BUFFALO AS WELL SO PLAN ACCORDINGLY SEPTEMBER 1ST THROUGH SEPTEMBER 4TH!!! I was thinking of taking Panda to the Falls, and maybe back to the ol' stompin' grounds, which will indeed include a trip to the Sheridan Wegmans, and of course Anderson's. Maybe even the Springville Wal-Mart. *sigh* Sometimes, I really miss it. I really, really do.

Text message I got from Raff today: 'I hope you are enjoying Amish Country. I hear they have good butter.'

Yesterday's race put a dirty fic seed in my brain, and I'm afraid to write it. I'm afraid of where it might lead. Of course I'm talking about a KH/TS fic, but I'm thinking that DH wasn't at home like KH said. Maybe DH was in hiding, lurking around the track, waiting to pounce on KH and TS at a moment's notice, ready to take them both on at the same time. Of course DH would totally dominate that pair, we all know this to be accurate and true... and if you don't know who DH is then I can't tell you. All thoughts contained therein the last paragraph or so are mine, I post them at my own peril, knowing full well that fans of both the KH and TS parties may or may not agree with me, but that's tough shit. It's not my fault TS bolted from a live interview to go mack on KH, who hadn't even gotten out of his car. It was KK's first win all over again. Man that TS is a slut :-p Oh and evilsenshi? If you could possibly, and this is just a slight possibility, but if you could possibly work EC and/or KK into that mix? I would love you forever.

redden6 may be right, that Colin Farrell is one of, if not the worst actor around, but he sure is easy on the eyes, don't you think?

I haven't showered in what seems like a week. I was feeling quite icky when I woke up and pretty much determined that I was going to shower before the race. So I can smell all clean and fresh for... an afternoon of lounging around on the couch listening to Chad and whomever Panda would like to listen to this afternoon.

It's okay for cops -- excuse me, constables, since technically I don't think they're really cops -- in Brewster to come onto your private property and ticket your car. Is that legal? I'm serious, I'm not judging either way but holy crikey, is it? That's messed up. Wanna hear what's really messed up: they're ticketing cars with out-of-date inspections/registrations. O.o

Not much else to say, really. I say I'm going to watch the race, but I'd put money on me falling asleep, much like my father, and not getting to see a good chunk of it. Which would be okay with me. I know it's a horrible thing to say, but I can honestly see myself weaned from the fandom by the beginning of next season. I really have sort of lost interest; I've even started question whether or not I had interest in the first place.

( Fic Notes, which are cut because I know not all of you want to read this... )

Jimmie Johnson (1): That was a pretty big weekend for Chad Knaus. He had a birthday. And then he tied former interim crew chief Darian Grubb for the team lead for crew chief wins with two. (Oh man, that's cold. True, but cold.)

Greg Biffle (9): I heard that the sandwich-in-the-face commercial required 20 takes of Biffle throwing the food in Doug Richert's face. Which is pretty much Tony Stewart's dream commercial shoot. (Don't forget the mayo splooge all over Dougie's face. I'm not sure if Tony wants Greg splooging all over his face.)

~*~

I woke up late this morning. I ripped my alarm clock out of the wall, and packed it.
It's amazingly hot in my room, so I turned up the fan... and then proceeded to unplug it and toss it in the trunk of my car.
I don't care about WISE Tools anymore. I don't care about WISE, I don't care about Watershed Concepts, I don't care about North Carolina. I don't care about floodplain mapping. All I do care about... is climbing into bed and going back to fucking sleep. No. Lie.
This Bergen County FIS (or Flood Insurance Study to the novice) report is going to be the fucking death of me.
I wanna stab myself right above my right eye because of a painful throbbing that's been there for two days.
I'm still bleeding. It's been eight days.

Jess and I went to the Panera in Yorktown (or is that Yorktown Heights?) last night and, holy toledo. The nicest Panera I have ever seen. EVER! Best part? They bring your food to you. Like, you order, you pay, you get your cup, and then they give you this electronic salt shaker and ask you to take a seat and they'll find you. I was like, "WHAAAAAT!? That's insane!" But it's all true. You should go there. I also went to Kohl's and found an adorable pair of shoes that are so mine, but you can borrow them.

It's colder than it looks outside.

Know what sucks? And I mean what really sucks? Knowing that there's a tsunami slowly approaching, and there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. It's going to destroy your house and your village, and the people that you really care about are going to either be swept inland a piece and die drowning, or swept out to sea where they can die drowning. I'm standing on the beach right now, and I'm watching the water subside. My eyes are closed, but I can hear it. The waves aren't breaking anywhere near my feet. It's not tidal. It's a disaster. It's a disaster and it's boiling right beneath the surface. I could easily grab what I'd need to survive and run for higher ground, but instead I'm just standing on the beach. I'm just standing her, my feet sinking in the sand as the water rushes out to sea, and I'm just waiting.

This tsunami is going to destroy me, I just know it. And right now I'm torn. Torn between not wanting it to hit at all, or just getting it over with. Either way it's going to hurt something fierce, either way my head's going under the water and all I need is my wonderwall.

Part of me is debating skipping Friday's training, coming in and picking up my check, and then going home. Home, where my heart is. Not home in Mahopac..

I'm working off of FEMA's server for the first time all by myself today. It's a strange feeling, but I'm sure I'll survive... right? I mean, I can't write to the folder, so I have to figure out how this is going to work, but I'm sure it will. And I'm sure it'll work well. Once I get it figured out. I could take me all day, and I think I'm prepared for that. I brought my notes for this year's novel (I haven't finished last year's; and I don't think I ever will), and I'm really set out and determined to finish another project before I decide that I have no talent as a writer and need to just pack it in.

Dad and I had dinner last night at The Red Rooster. Cheeseburgers and fries with Cokes, and of course ice cream as the topper. We were debating playing mini-golf but the ass-clowns from Brewster and points around there were out in full swing last night, so we refrained. They also have a Pepsi machine with one Jeff Gordon adorning the front, and I swore that the thing was talking to me. Dad looked at me like I was kind of funny when I walked up to it and took a picture with my cell phone.

My bladder nearly exploded last night. Twice. I can't wait until I get home and can actually use my toilet.

mystik78 informed me that Mr. Knaus (or as I like to now call him, 'my ostrich') was on Inside Nextel Cup last night. So of course I watched. And squeed. And quieted down so to hear his voice. And squeed some more. Because he's got a hot-ass voice. To go with those sideburns of his. Mmmm, okay I'll stop now.

State Fair/Syracuse. September 1st through September 4th. I'm thinking, since we're up there, maybe we could... shuffle off to Buffalo? It's just a thought, and it's totally up to you. If we're up there, we might as well take a trip.