backpack dreams

Govern mints!

I dislike my "job" making "commercials," more "quotes."
It's quite lame. And I always feel like a dork making them, and when they play! Oh lord!
Of course I enjoy some more than others, but sometimes, blurg!

Anyway, I vwent to the swap meet today, and I think I will write about it soon.

Intermittent family visits throw all my shit off!

Also, I got a haircut!

Customer service is a really strange thing. I don't know.

Often I look at, or even just think about, how many things I have.
So many things! So many things that I apparently need on a day-to-day basis.
And not even practical things, either. Just things.

My grandpa is so old.
I just had to help him from not falling out of his chair, and then I practically dragged him to the couch so he could nap.
I don't think I realized exactly how old my grandpa is until just a few minutes ago.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, my uncle and aunt dropped off their puppy here, and it's really energetic and all sorts of young.
Really bitey, though. And kind of annoying. But she's cute, for sure.
On reflex I did a two-finger slap on her head after she bit me, she just caught me off-guard, I guess.
It wasn't that hard, but I felt bad afterwards. I guess I kind of wanted to say sorry, but it's not like that's in the least bit possible.
Either way, Cassie seems to have forgiven me, and the pink toothmarks on my thumb are already starting to fade.

Dear Internet,
I read about two-thirds of this article before noticing that I was on The Onion.
I felt sad watching Conan's last Tonight Show. I don't know. And he said something about not being cynical towards the end, which really only served to make me feel cynical, because before it never really crossed my mind. I don't know, I think Conan would be a cool dad.
From,
Me

This was stuck in my head for the longest time and I couldn't figure out what it was... until.... NOW! Obviously.

The sun is out and I will finally have a proper opportunity to go outside, yes, yes, yes!
I also just saw my grandma for the first time in a couple weeks, I can just barely see the beginning of the scar that runs straight through her chest. Now I am going to go to El Dorado so I can finish reading Cool Hand Luke, maybe. Or maybe something else, I don't know, or just go and look at the incredibly scary birds, or maybe I'll just make my rounds at the neighborhood thrift stores, I don't know. I don't know I do not know! Let us go!


P.S. Pistachios are now my favorite type of nut.

Uncle James dropped off food for my grandpa, since my grandma usually cooks for him. My sister wasn't home to cook anything, either. And I guess I can sort of cook, but only for myself. I'd feel too ashamed/guilty if I made someone else eat the majority of my cooking. You know that thing when people take pleasure in their fart smell? Not really pleasure, but a kind of sick satisfaction? That's an appropriate comparison as to what I think of my cooking.
So my uncle awkwardly hung out for a while, while my grandpa sort of slobbered over the chicken James brought. I don't know, I ate some, too, but I thought it was kind of oily. Eventually my uncle left the house because he said he had to wake up early tomorrow morning and he wanted to relax, which I thought was funny because I thought the house was pretty primed up for relaxing because it was all empty and stuff but he maybe could've been alluding to cigarettes. Probably not. Anyway, yes, he left, and it was just me and the good ole' grandpa, with Korean television blaring in the background. And my back was to the TV, so I couldn't really see. My grandpa was looking up from his chicken, directly over my shoulder, I don't think I've seen his eyes that big before. So yes, the chicken was finished, and I took the bottle of Diet Coke and the rest of the chicken to the refrigerator, which is dangerously full. And then I thought about how in all them MTV shows like "Cribs" and stuff the celebrities love to show off the contents of their fridge, and then I looked at mine, and I guess it was a little interesting to view it that way. You can easily distinguish what I've put in there, and what my sister has, and what my grandma has. The smell, surprisingly, isn't too bad. There's a lot of contrast between what's inside of it. Hm, for some reason I can't really be very specific. My grandpa is alone downstairs, watching TV, and I don't know whether or not to treat him like a child or an adult. After my uncle left, I made a motion to go upstairs but he, quite authoritatively, told me to sit down and eat more chicken, in English, too. He really liked that chicken, for some reason.
Anyway.

A much needed visual for the last post.

So I noticed my mousepad (which is a photograph of these mentally-challenged looking kittens) is copyrighted to "JCurtis," whom could easily be JCurtis as in Jamie Lee Curtis.


Famous Hollywood actor moonlighting as amateur feline photographer? More likely than most of the other shit that goes through my mind.

http://www.popsci.com/technology/article/2010-01/cannon-shooting-supplies-space

Red bean ice cream is delicious and I don't like rainy days because I don't really have a proper raincoat, nor a car.
So I am limited to biking around until my chain rusts to bits and tits so instead I stay home and waste away dis preshus yuth

I feel like I want to explode and shrivel up all at the same time. I want to be launched into space. I want to ride different orbits, I want to slingshot from planet to planet, all the way to the edge of the galaxy. I want to feel gravity! I want to feel the planets tug at me all at once, even the faraway ones. I want to be my own celestial body! I want scientists on planets thousands of light years away study my image long after I've gone. I want to be in one of those damn astrology atlas shits, the big picture books, with the colorful sketches and maps. And after I've had my fun, I want to be flung back towards the Sun. I want to see the Sun from as far away as possible, as if someone was just shooting at my eye with a laser pointer. Then I'd approach it and it'd get brighter and brighter and bigger and bigger until my eyes would have no choice but to boil out of my head. Then I'd be blind. My hair would sizzle away like sparklers on the 4th of July, my limbs would shrink and blacken like used matches, my body would toast then quickly char like the marshmallow of an impatient fat man. The only thing that would be left is me, and I'd know that I would be eaten up by the Sun, even though I'd have no real way of telling. My senses would be gone and I'd be left completely alone with my thoughts, just floating floating floating, until pewf, I'd be gone.



Chris Bell died in a car crash that may or may not have been his own damn fault. What a silly, convoluted way to die.
Anyway, I'm done now.

Labels: pseudoku, puns, who exactly am I trying to impress? ???

I'm not sure if there's anything for me in going to college, other than getting away from home, although I could do that on my own if I really wanted to, I guess.

So I sent my dad an email asking him to fill out the Noncustodial Parent Form for the CSS financial aid shiz.
I had no idea the deadline for that was so soon? No one told me! But I guess that will become much less of a valid excuse as I get older, which scares the heebies out of me, because I'm sure this unaware irresponsibility will not fly well when I am supposed to be a bill-paying, deadline-meeting adult.
Colgate! I kind of sort of want to apply to you, even though I know I won't get accepted, but what's the use of applying to you if I can't pay for you?
Blast!

What if I withdrew all the money from my bank account (about 300 big ones, if you wanted to know) and just bought the first Greyhound ticket I could get? I wonder where I'd end up.
And would my life be better for it, or worse? I have far from enough cajones to do this, though.
And crazy as it sounds, I've wondered these kinds of things a lot.

You know what's depressing? When you're troubleshooting some problem for your computer and you end up reading some old thread on some random tech support forum and you notice that the thread was made like 5 years ago. I don't know, I find that very depressing.

My grandma may or may not die after her surgery on Tuesday, so the vast majority of my family decided to come over to pay her a visit.
She seemed as sour as ever, but I think that's just because she's nervous. My uncle's a doctor, so he spared us no detail in terms of what is going to happen during her surgery. It was pretty graphic, he said that if she doesn't rest properly, her chest cavity could reopen and her innards could shoot out. Well, not shoot out, but fall out. I actually imagined it a la Alien, but I didn't tell him that.
At around 8:00 my entire family decided to huddle for a group prayer, and all I could think about was how sweaty my palm was on my uncle's shoulder and how loudly my other uncle was breathing and how I wanted to finish that mound of fries that was left on the dinner table and how I needed to turn in my GWU app.
I didn't really understand most of the prayers, since they were in Korean. Everyone else had their eyes closed, so I was kind of watching them, kind of creepy I guess. My youngest cousin wasn't in this prayer circle, she's only like 5 or 3 or something. She was playing with the puppy. I thought it was funny.
This could possibly be the last time many of my family members will ever see my grandma, but my cousin will just remember it as the day she played with the Maltese at some strange woman's house, if she can even remember at all.
I woke up this morning feeling like a 40-year-old man. I just felt very crappy. I don't know why.
And this may or may not be too much information, but my shower doors are made of glass, and so you can see your entire body in the mirror when you're standing up. So I looked at myself and wondered what I'd look like in about 30 years or so. It was weird. I wonder how old I will get to be.
By the way, my grandma is really old, in her 80s, so this surgery is really risky, and the recovery will just about take forever. But I don't know how long she is willing to rest, she's stubborn, in a way.
It's strange for me to think about her death. I've been living with her on and off for the past 6 years, but other than that I don't have many fond memories of her as a child. Not many memories at all, to be honest. I remember going to her old apartment in Garden Grove, and her visiting me and my dad in Connecticut, that's pretty much the extent of it.
I don't know if I will cry if she dies, or if I'll even feel bad. I guess all I'll feel a little sense of guilt for not always being the most grateful to her, but I don't know. My doctor uncle told me that basically her choice was to die within the next couple years or take the risk of the surgery. And really I don't understand why she would decide to get surgery. Maybe it's a religious thing, or a Korean thing, to not be so accepting of death, but however much longer the surgery will let her live if it's successful, I don't think it'll make a big difference. I don't think she'll come out of the surgery with a newfound appreciation for life. If anything I think she will only continue to carry out as she's been doing for the past 50 years of her life anyway. Hm. I don't know.
It'd be weird if I was the one getting surgery.

Had a dream that involved time-traveling with the Beatles, excluding Ringo, and Bob Dylan.
At one point we started shooting this gun that Paul brought. We were shooting at rocks and then I called John a square.

I made a silly mistake but I'll be fine.


2010! I mourn the loss of the funky New Year glasses with 0s as the peepholes.

Life is good, but somehow I always make it very difficult for myself.