backpack dreams

Sometimes I get this odd empty feeling in my head/chest and all I can do is put on some music and roll around on my carpet until I fall asleep or I feel better. It's the kind of feeling that makes me want to sink into a giant lake of mud and kind of just muck around in there for a while. The feeling of something missing, it's a pretty trite emotion, but an emotion nonetheless. I'm not sure what I'm missing, I might not be missing anything at all, maybe I'm just crazy.
Not sure if I wrote about this or not yet, but a while ago (like maybe a month), my grandma uprooted all my sunflowers from the backyard, she said it was because the leaves kept on getting eaten, but I didn't really understand what she meant by that and I still wish she had left them in. On another octogenarian note, I ate lunch with my grandpa today. Of course there were awkward communication problems between him and the cashier and I wasn't really sure when to step in and just speak English because I didn't want to make my grandpa feel like a dork, that, and I'm pretty awkward to begin with so when I did eventually try to help it only made things slightly better. Burger King's food isn't really super tasty, in my opinion, but my grandpa likes it, and I don't think it's really good for his heart, either, but he likes it.
And this morning I walked out of the shower into my hallway in NAY BUT A TOWEL only to be greeted to the sight of the back of a broker's head as she walked up my stairwell. Needless to say, I scurried down the wall into my room for shelter/clothes although it may have been counter-productive, i.e. running produces wind shear.

Also also also, I came back from a 2 night camping trip from Joshua Tree yesterday which was a lot of fun. Alex was lucky enough to get walked in on by a stranger while pooping at the local Pizza Hut, among other things. Hearing a pack of howling coyotes from inside your tent right before the sunrise is both a terrifying and awe-inspiring thing. There was also this incredindubitably cute girl at the local Stater Bros, but I'll never see her ever again. And even if I did all I would be able to do is stare and breathe heavy. And my palms would probably get sweaty.

I am still AWAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's like 5:00!!!!!!

I helped my grandpa move all of his paintings into the car today, I guess he wants to display them at his birthday party. There must have been at least 15 that I moved in there. He mostly does portraits, I really wonder how he chooses who he wants to paint. There's Lincoln, and Kennedy, and younger grandpa, and his dad, and Jesus, and I remember seeing someone that I would not even know my grandpa to know about, I forget who, though. It was a she. Anyway, the more paintings I put into the car, the less room there was for me, and when we were done, I was kind of relieved because I wouldn't have to go. It's just that the party will be all old pastors and ministers and I'll have no one to talk to if I go. They told me to bring trunks so I could swim in my uncle's pool. The image of me being the only one swimming at a party full of aging Koreans, kind of funny, actually, but I still don't want to swim. So yes, the car is pretty much all filled up in the back, and my grandparents are both very adamant about me attending, I don't know, I don't want to, I don't know how to say I don't really want to, and they're both pretty stubborn, anyway (AND IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY). And plus, I feel like all the paintings obscuring his rearview would put us more at danger for a crash, I'm always imagining all the possible car crashes when he's driving. He's actually pretty terrible, but apparently he passed his test a few days ago. I couldn't believe it. Yeah, I think it'd be a pretty spectacular crash, if it really did happen, though, just because all those paintings would go flying everywhere. Of course, the actual dying part wouldn't be too great. But just imagining all those paintings littered amongst the debris, it's kind of a cool image. Well, sans the whole blood and dead bodies part. Well, it wouldn't have to be a fatal crash, I guess. It's just that whenever I'm in the car with my grandpa driving, I just imagine all the possible ways we can crash, because he's pretty terrible.
Okay, I'm gonna go downstairs and try to convince them I don't want to go.


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That last sentence didn't really make any sense, but oh well. And both of my grandparents were more understanding then I thought they would be, just goes to show how big of a butthole I am.

Saw a cool picture of my grandpa working at Hanna-Barbera, although you can't really tell except for the little Birdman pinned onto the wall behind him. There are a couple of other cartoony drafting like things on his desk, too. It was neat, there are these parts of my grandparents that I always seem to forget. Tomorrow is my grandpa's 90th birthday, bitch is old as hellllllll.
Can't believe I only found out about The Cramps today, if I could travel back in time and be a lot cooler and be white then I would definitely join The Clash or The Cramps or Patti Smith or Sonic Youth or at least be a damn groupie or something. Hot diggity.