Lawn care and tattoos

Today I tamed my lawn. I just moved into a new place downtown and while the location is great, it's kind of a crummy place, but maybe I'm just snobby. Anyway, because I'm probably not living there for more than two more months, I'm a little indifferent about common maintaining procedures. This resulted in the lawn becoming an evil monster that would eat my bicycle from time to time and conceal lesser monsters within. So something had to be done. We borrowed a lawn mower from our lovely neighbors and hacked away. It felt good because after we had gotten done, I could feel proud about my place again. Plus, I didn't wear my shirt at all when I was working, which is always a plus. I haven't gotten to do that a lot lately. Either I've been working or it's been too rainy to shed said shirt. What made it even more cool was the fact that I had these wicked awesome tattoos on my arms from a rock star party I went to the night before. Don't worry mom, these were fake tattoos for my rock star costume; we all had to come dressed as a rock and roll god (or goddess). I applied them yesterday and they'll stay for another week or so. It's interesting because I now have a little bit of an idea of what it's like to live with a tattoo. I think people treat you different with a tattoo. I even had to cover them up for a job interview. I've always wanted a tattoo. Just something to show off at the gym when I'm curling big weights. Maybe like some elemental thing with dragons with a cross in it somewhere, you know, so it can be a Christian tattoo.

hashbrowns!

I had the best breakfast this morning! Usually I'll just have eggs and toast and, if I'm lucky, some smaller than average sausage patties on the side, but this morning I added one more food group to the mix and grilled up some country-style potatoes. This might not sound especially spectacular to you, but I was thrilled. They taste great and I got a chance to use my Maltese steak spice, which I always use on my potatoes, even though it's called "steak spice." They can't tell me what to do. It became a tradition one day when I was working at the cafeteria at school, making breakfast, when a friend of mine came in and started making hash browns (it was a very public cafeteria kitchen). There was a readily available Maltese spice jar, so he capitalized on it and sprinkled it over the browns. It was love at first bite (see what I did there with a little play on words). Anyway, that's the story behind my hash brown love and that's why I was so excited to make them this morning. It was really easy actually. I don't know why I don't do it more often. I have to use my potatoes more anyway. I bought them a few weeks ago and now all these weird things are coming out of them. Radioactive alien tentacles on my potatoes.

Music

Have you ever wanted music to follow you wherever you go? Or maybe have that certain song come on when you enter a room? I've always thought that would be the coolest thing. That music that plays when the hero enters a room; priceless. Well, the other day I was browsing the isles of hodgepodge glory that can only be found at your local Goodwill. I came across a few interesting items, including a ship in a bottle, the Titanic box set, and a certain electronic turntable toy that allows even the youngest child become a master mixer. Well, I went to the checkout and paid for my items and starting walking out the door when music started coming out of my grocery bag. It was the awesome turntable toy and at that moment my childhood dreams came true and music followed my all the way from the store to my car. I passed a few people on the the way and I'm pretty sure I got my point across.

Piiii-Kaaa-CHUUU!

I hope all you bloggers out there remember playing Pokemon. Back in the day it was so awesome! I remember the day my friend introduced it to me for the first time. My life would never be the same. I had the red version and my brother had the blue so we could trade all the time. We fought a lot, but it was the one thing that brought us together. My favorite one was Polywrath. Amnesia Hydro pump combo--boom you're done. I remember at one point in the game, Ash got the opportunity to get a bike when he got the "bike voucher." I've never heard of a bike voucher before, but I knew you needed it to get a bike in the game. Well, I stopped playing the game after about five wholesome years and that time is behind me now. I haven't thought very much about the game until today when I was talking to a roommate about our bikes. I said, "well sometimes I don't lock it up, but it's just a cheap bike anyway." "Well mine was free," he replied. Curious, I asked him how he got a free bike. He said he got it with a bike voucher. When I realized what he said and connected it in my head with pokemon, a dormant child inside me lept for joy.

weird day in Bend

Today was a weird day; it seemed very surreal. For some reason, people everywhere were talking to themselves (way more than the usual day). It all started early this morning during my usual Goodwill shopping run. I was picking up some weird stuff for raffle prizes and I was heading to the sporting goods section when I passed by a lady singing a song to herself. I guess that's normal, but I remember it coming across as weird to me. I think she was singing about what she was doing at the moment, like her life was a constant musical and she was the star. She worked at Goodwill and she was putting away some items on the shelf singing her heart out. "Hmm...?" I thought. Later I found myself in Safeway picking up bags of candy for later and came across the same thing. I heard at least three people talking to themselves throughout the store. Well, I thought it was funny and quirky, so I didn't mind. I went down to where the candy was in search for the right bag of candy. "uh, this one looks good." I said out loud. Then I realized I had become one of them. It was spreading, and pretty soon others would be contaminated. It is a phenomenon and it's spreading across Bend as we speak...to ourselves.

My new living arrangement

I moved into my new place the other day. My very own place. I've never actually had my own place before; I've always lived with roommates or my parents. Honestly, it's pretty boring (it doesn't help that I don't have wi-fi). Before I moved in, I went over to the place because the landlord said the doors were open (he's an old timer who grew up in the days when they trusted people). So I walked in and checked the place out. The place fit the definition of musty and reminded me of the creepy temple from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but there weren't any ghostly blades darting out at me and there weren't any grails in the back room. It mostly reminded me of the temple because of an ancient dust blanketing everything and dirt on the walls (it had these blackish marks on the wall that looked like either smoke stains or remnants of the last mud-flinging party they had). Besides that, the place wasn't too bad. It felt really weird to just walk in the place though. I felt like a burglar; I was in someone else's place, but they didn't know I was there. So I'm walking around groping for light switches around every corner and I had to go to the bathroom. OK, this'll be a good chance to check out the bathrooms. But, alas, the toilets were either empty with no water or filled with the excrement of perhaps a passerby or the previous tenant. So, now I live there and I'm optimistic. All it needs is a little love.

spit fail

I was driving around the other day. I was feeling optimistic, so I had my window rolled down about half-way. It felt nice. At one point in the drive, I felt something in my throat, so my natural inclination was to spit it out. I've grown quite confident in my spitting ability over time. With years of practice under my belt, I wound up and spit. Maybe I was overconfident or maybe it was just bad judgment, but it landed right on the inside of the window. I wanted to clean it off, but I was going down the freeway at 50 mph. Of course i didn't want to use my sleeve; that's disgusting. I was going to leave it there until I got done with my errands, but I forgot about it. When I got in my car to go home after work, I saw it and it was all dried on there. It was really hard to get off too. It reminded me of those shows on the discover channel where the birds make their nests out of their own saliva. They actually regurgitate over and over again, which I think birds are really good at, one on top of the other into a masterpiece of avian architecture. It looks really sick too. it's all clear and pointy. It looks like it could cut you if you held it wrong. I always wondered what it would be like to keep a jar of spit (snot is also accepted). Whenever I have a cold, I have a lot of spit (and snot) and could really fill up that jar. I went to a museum and saw a jar of spit once. Best museum ever.

Grocery run

I walked to grocery store today. It was a brisk, wet evening; just about 8:00. I walked down there for some pancake syrup and spreadable butter. No, I wasn't about to eat pancakes; I had just had a glorious coldcut sandwich. I just knew I needed them for whenever I would eat pancakes or toast some bread. The only syrup we have is real syrup, not the sugary kind. It's in a glass bottle and everything. I think it was like 10 dollars. It's my roommate's though and I feel bad when I drown my cakes in a bath of his exquisite maple syrup. Freshly spiked from the forests of Vermont. Whenever I think of maple syrup I think of Norman Rockwell paintings. I guess there's something whimsical about walking out into a forest of maple trees and spiking them, then making maple syrup on the stove all day. Although I don't think they do that much anymore. It all goes through a bunch of machines to get the bugs and dirt out of it and add sugar and boil it and everything. I've never been to Vermont, but this is the picture I have of it. A lot like the picture on the state quarter. I'm glad that my home state of North Dakota has wheat and a buffalo on their quarter. I guess that's what we're famous for.

Puddin'

I made pudding for the very first time today. I was at the good old soup kitchen with nothing to do, so I accumulated all the little boxes of pudding together and dumped 'em all in a big kettle an cooked 'em. It was the biggest pot of puddin' you've ever seen! It made me drool, but not the food. I tried to catch it on my shirt, which looked pretty gross, especially when there was a spit string connecting my mouth to my shirt. I hate when that happens! Yuk. I remember I was in class one time in college and I fell asleep. No big deal right? But, when I woke up, there was a massive spit string from my mouth to my chest. Not attractive Wesley. How are you going to attract college girls that way! BTW, I have a dating coach inside of me that guides me through situations such as the one just described. Anyway, my computer mouse is the same as my roommates and they're on the same table, so he gets confused sometimes. It's really funny when he tries to use my mouse to opperate his computer and finds that nothing is happening. Then he gets scared, but I don't tell him that it's not his mouse. I let him figure it out on his own.

My rock climbing adventure

So I just moved into a new place about a week ago. I am what some people call "the guy on the couch." I'm living with a couple of great guys my age and I love it. My old place was just about the complete opposite, living with a middle-aged couple and I usually went to my room and facebooked at night. I was in a big routine, but now everyday is an adventure. One such adventure I partook in took place at a very cold Smith Rock (my snot was running down my face that morning, but it warmed up). Yes, my roommates are very avid rock-climbers and my initiation was to go climbing with them, which I hesitated with at first, but gave in under pressure. I know nothing about rock-climbing except that you have to grab rocks and pull yourself up and that there are things called carabiners that some people use to attach their water bottle to things so it doesn't get lost. (I don't even really know if you're supposed to hyphenate "Rock-climbing" or not). So I get there to the parking lot overlooking Smith Rock in all it's glory. It was a cold morning so everyone's got their "North Face" vests and other garb of the rock climbing culture, and there I stood with my nike shoes and a jacket I didn't care about getting dirty. I felt very out of place. Well, I was enjoying myself until I started climbing. First, I tried to get these really tight shoes on that are evidently supposed to smash your toes. Well, my toes felt smashed and I stood there staring up at the rock wall with the best poker face I could muster at the moment. I had already felt embarrassed about being so new to the whole thing. When the moment came, I spit in both hands, rubbed them together and jumped onto that dang wall. I hung there on the wall quivering and held on for dear life for about two seconds before I fell right on my keister. I tried a few more times, but didn't get much higher. Defeated, I backed off and followed my buddies to the next face. I actually ended up climbing up to the first bolt on the second face and did OK that day. I also ended up eating all the granola bars we brought and drinking not only my water, but much of everyone else's water too. I also answered my cell phone once which evidently is taboo if you're out in nature with a bunch of hippies around.

no toast?

I'm really sad today because I can't make toast anymore. No, I didn't lose my cognitive ability to make toast. There was no mystical basketball I touched that took my talent, like in space jam. Actually, we dont' have a toaster in the new apartment I moved into. I thought I was really brilliant when I thought to just pump up the oven to full blast to cook the defenceless little slice of bread. However, I just ended up drying it out completely. It was really sick and the butter was really hard so it tore the bread in half. I sulked. So now making eggs will really be an awkward and incomplete process without any bread. I'll miss you toast.

Myspace Memories

So I officially unearthed my old myspace account last night. I started it in 2005 and it kind of fizzled out of my life when I started facebook about three years later. My profile song was gone and somehow the layout was different. Fortunately, my video of ants eating a centipede was still going strong. In the midst of my archeological dig, I dusted off the old myspace blog. It's funny how excited I was about the whole thing at the time. I wanted to post my first blog ever, so here it is:

<===[= Welcome to my blog =]===>

Captain's log:

this is my first blog entry. I'm in the computer lab with frantic students all around me--it must be paper season...

today I got my new cast, too bad it's just like the old one, only more uncomfortable. I was really hoping for a cast that people could write on, but oh well.

I love the Captain's log thing. I suppose it was appropriate for the adventure I was embarking on. Speaking of adventures, I went climbing the other day. First time I've ever been climbing. I'll talk more about that in another post.

weird dream

I had a dream the other night that I was driving my car and I must have accidentally turned on the windshield wiper fluid because a bunch of water started spraying all over the windshield and the wipers were not wiping it off. And for some reason it was a massive deluge of water and it was happening when I was driving down a mountain pass. So I had to literally go under my dashboard and find a button among all the other switches and levers (everything was shiny and made a brass by the way) to find the button for the water. I found it and we were on our way. I forgot where I was going though.

Crosswalk button pounding

Lately I've noticed a phenomenon that taking the streets of Bend by storm. Crosswalk button pounding. I saw one the other day. The guy, about in his late twenties, looked kinda like a macho tough guy with his hood over his head and some edgy facial hair on his chin, walks up to the crosswalk and without giving it a second thought, just pounds the crosswalk button with a full hammer-fist three times. Bam bam bam. As if hitting it harder and more often is going to make the button change faster. I'm sure that's what the creator programmed into it. Completely unnecessary. And another guy today walking with his little brother around town. Again, some kinda tough guy. Does some kind of swagger and proceeds with hitting the defenseless button with his open palm three times (what's with hitting it three times?) and goes back to his swagger stance. Break the button why don't you. What's up with that?

mini-coughing

Have you ever heard someone doing a mini-cough? It's like a cough, but smaller and insignificant. I say insignificant because I believe it does absolutely nothing but redistribute the phlegm in your throat. This is annoying to me, especially in quiet places when I can hear every little mini-cough the person makes. I was once a mini-cougher myself and have long ago repented of my ways. I did it in quiet places like during a test when I though a loud cough would bother people so I did a mini-cough. Problem solved right? Wrong! Years after I started this fabulous technique did I realize how ridiculous it really is. It was then that I decided to do nothing less then a full on cough every time I need to. So today I was on one of those elliptical machine down at the old gym. I had about ten minutes left in my routine when a guy came to use the machine next to mine. He started to use the machine and turned the little TV to the Olympics. I thought, "this guy's alright." But then he started to mini-cough. He did it once and kept doing it about every 10 seconds until the end of his run. I could hear it every time he did it too. Weird. I really wanted to liberate him by encouraging him to just let it all out and give it one good cough. I didn't. He's probably still mini-coughing to this day.

an awkward encounter with an annoying family

I ran into some annoying people today. I was on my way to Starbucks to finish off my gift certificate with a talle breve single toffee nut frap with whip (of course). I had just gotten out of my car when I discovered a family with some their friends standing on the side walk having a good time. When I walked by them I glanced to observe whatever festivities may have been taking place. Apparently, they had found a homeless man's signs (the ones he had been using for begging). The homeless man wasn't there, but had probably went inside to go to the bathroom or to get warm, but had left his sings outside. Well, this family thought it was so funny to pick up the signs read them and even hold the sign in front of themselves pretending that they were begging. Ha ha ha, what? I was a bit disturbed by the whole sight and pointed out that the signs belonged to someone who actually used them for begging and that he probably didn't want people play with them. To which they responed, "well we weren't going to mess them up! Why don't you get over yourself!" I was mad. I had never seen such disturbing scene in my life. How terrible that they were making a joke out of poverty. After our little incident, I went in for my drink just to have them standing right behind me in line for theirs. How awkward.

My festive wound

Valentine's day '010

I got a very special Valentine today. It all started when I was playing dodgeball the night before and decided to go big and run right up to line at the very start of game so I could be the hero and hit a bunch of balls back to my team. I heard the "GO!" and ran as fast as I could toward the no-man's-land dividing the two halves of the gym. I forgot that I had been wearing jeans with giant gaping holes in the knees, and when I get close to the line, I came to a halt sliding on my knees to get the ball. I didn't feel it at the time, but after being sent to the jail only seconds into my epic ball gathering mission, I felt the pain that adrenaline had covered up for a moment. Aparantly, I got an annoying rug-burn on my right knee from my rock-n-roll slide move. The next day, Valentine's day as it would appear, I looked at my rug-burn and it was in the shape of a heart. It almost felt supernatural, like a little "I love you" from God. The thing is, I hate rug-burns; not very many people do. Maybe God should have talked to my friends before Valentine's day so He would've gotten me something I would like.

A childhood dream come true

Well, the day has finally come for Wesley Welch. I used to work in an office with a coworker, but she moved to her own office, so the room is all mine! I'm really excited because of the two desks in the room, I used the high one with the really tall chair which made me feel like a little kid with my feet dangling above the floor (which was fun at first, but became less fun as time went on). Toward the end of the day I could sometimes feel blood rushing to the bottom of my feet because I hadn't moved them for a good few hours. And my posture was all out of whack too. But now! but now I have the short, or well, regular height desk with the awesome executive chair! (not a plastic frame, canvas "chair" with barely rollable wheels and a back that I'd have to readjust every couple days). Now, my chair is made of "leather" and, wait, I just smelled it and it's not leather, it has a great back though and I can touch my feet on the ground. Ah, it has armrests! This is the desk I had always dreamed of when I was a kid. I was a strange child and dreamed of an office job where I'd where a pressed shirt and tie to work and make copies on a machine and have a cup of coffee on my cherry wood desk in my third-floor office with a view of something worth looking at and a modern garbage can full of triangular paper cups from the water cooler down the hall where I'd talk to people about the stock market and what I did that weekend. Oh, and I'd also live in Minneapolis, root for the Twins (though I didn't and still don't know anything about baseball), and have a golden retreiver, but never get married cause girls were weird. Hmm, childhood dreams. One fulfilled. But I still have to become an artist, a pilot, and a museum guide and travel the world.

I've been getting a lot of free stuff lately...well...trying to get free stuff. See, I don't consider myself a wealthy man. I don't get to spend money very freely right now, so I've been scheming a different way to get things besides paying for them. No, I'm not stealing things. I am not a pick-pocket like Matt Damon in Ocean's 11, although his stealthy abilities inspire me in a non-criminal sort of way. Anyway, I've tried a few different things like enrolling in a few rewards programs which have kind of backfired on me. I spend a lot of our church's money (which is really fun) so I enrolled in a rewards program with my check card except I have to spend like 4 whole dollars just to get one stinking point to spend toward my prestigious reward. Bollucks, that'll take forever. I want a 10 dollor gift card to Best Buy now!

So, my engenious free-stuff schemes (with the exception of a few free trial offers I signed up for for downloading music, which was awesome!) have flopped leaving me in a state of free stuff dispair. To make myself feel better, I went to starbucks today to get a drink and grab one of their free songs they have on their counter. Mystery Zone by Spoon. Although I've never heard the song before, I'm sure it'll grow on me.

Whoa! Pizookie!

OK, this is a link to everything you need to know about life and how to be happy (at least for about 15 minutes). That's right, I'm talking about pizookie. What's pizookie you ask? Well I'll tell you. It's only the best 500 calories you'll ever take into your body!! Here's the deal, you take a big blob of cookie dough and bake it in the oven until it's a big gooey pile, then you dump ice cream on top of it! and it melts and you smile! So if you want your life to finally make sense, just click on the link below.

http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2009/08/how-to-make-a-pizookie-or-a-pizza-cookie-recipe.html

Avatar

Yes, I finally went to go see Avatar. I don't know why I waited so long, I guess I was just waiting for the right moment. Fortunately, that moment came for me last Thursday when we decided to go out for a little City Church staff bonding time. It was good because we haven't bonded in a while besides heckling each other in the office.

I think it had been about a month since it came out and still the theater was packed! It must be the 3D aspect of it that's attracting so many people. Let me tell you though, this 3D is so awesome! It's worth going to even if you don't have a thing for sci-fi or aliens or things blowing up (in 3D!). And of course, we all got our nerdy little 3D glasses that we all wear confidently into the theater. I for one wore mine before we even got into the building. Me colleges were slightly embarassed, but that didn't bother me. I wore them proud. The movie and popcorn (thanks rick) were great. I was fully enjoying the movie until the sex by the tree scene. Not because it made me uncomfortable, but because these three stooges came into the theater talking really loud to each other as if we were at a football game. One says to the other "Dad! sit right there! No, right there and then I can sit there and you sit by me!" Loud, right? And annoying. So this guy, about middle-aged, tells his father where to sit and further instructs him to climb through the metal railing in order to access his seat. It sounded like military training was going on. Finally, after the two blue amazonian aliens had got done making out (or whatever they do on Pandora), the main stooge says, "oh, the movie isn't over. Dad, let's go!" So I responded by saying, "I can't even believe it!" and I said it kind of loud too. In fact, I think the guy heard it and glared at me. I didn't see him glare, I more or less felt it. I hoped he wasn't crazy.

zombies and texting

I've recently been doing a lot of killing in my spare time. Don't worry, they're zombies and they don't have feelings (unless an intense lust for my blood and flesh is an emotion). My favorite is the shotgun. I won't go into detail, but I can feel the stress melting away when I cause virtual wanton destruction everywhere I go. Almost the same effect as a lavender candle, but a little better and more manly. Anyway, I just got the game and find it consuming my thoughts lately, especially the first day I got it because I bought it right before I went to work and didn't really get a chance to play it. The thoughts consumed me to the point where I was driving and didn't see another car slowing down to turn in front of me. I actually almost hit them. I guess it's kind of the same thing they're talking about right now with texting and driving only with me it was thinking about killing zombies while driving. I've never had a problem with texting and driving or talking on my cell phone or shaving or anything else people normally do behind the wheel. Maybe my problem effects more Americans than we care to admit. Maybe we should all bad together to create a law against the cognitive reenactment of the slaying of undead. Maybe we can all make the world a better place; freeing it from alluring daydreams that bind our thoughts as we command our automobiles. Or maybe I'm the only one and I should stop playing so many video games.

Taken

I was so excited when I got back from North Dakota. My loving mother had lavishly provided me with all the Christmas treats that were left over from the season (in reality, it was only a couple sandwich bags full and it was also because she didn't "want" to eat them). I was so sad leaving and when I got settled back into my bedroom in Bend, OR, I though to myself "these tasty things will be a nice way to have a little piece of home with me for a while." So I went to work the next day and came home. I had laid my laptop bag down at the foot of my bed, taken off my jacket, and sat at my desk to plug in my computer. I looked down and my stash (which also included half a bag of doritos) was gone! huh... I looked around and they were nowhere. Then I remembered that the dog (that belonged to the family I was staying with) had a terrible habit of taking things. It definitely took my snacks! I was so mad, but realized it was partly my fault for not closing my door when I went to work. I told my house mom and she said that Jenny (the dog) had probably taken them outside. Well, it was dark and the backdoor was already locked for the night, so I decided to look in the morning. So at dawn, I sent myself as a search party to locate the destitute delicacies. I hadn't taken three steps out the door when I saw my bag of chips untouched but lifeless and covered with frost. Two steps beyond that was a sandwich bag completely torn to shreds with no trace of a cookie in sight. Bad Dog! I then took my chips inside in order to resuscitate them. I later ate them galdly, but my relationship with Jenny may never be the same.

memories from my train trip

I just got on the train and I kind of don't really know where I'm sitting because the whole time I was boarding I was talking to my friend Lisa on the phone. I seemed to be in my own little telephone world talking to Lisa. A man who looked like a train attendant directed me to an area where I would have two seats all to myself. Yay! I lay there talking for a while on the phone. Toward the end of my conversation, I noticed that I was the only one talking on the whole train car and I was talking in my outdoor voice too. Somebody just sneezed as I'm writing this and it sounded like a baloon after you let go of it and all the air coming out of it sounds farty as it shoots around the room. Anyway, at this point, I am talking liberally on my phone as I realize that many people (who have probably been on the train for hours already) are trying to sleep all around me. People would stir and shift in their seats still with their eyes closed and some would even turn around and look at me. I seem to have disturbed many people's drifting sleeping patterns. dang. I hate being the center of attention. She sneezed again.

crazy dream

I had a dream last night that I had to use a fire extinguisher for the first time. I was very hesitant and whenever I had gotten done putting out the fire, it would start up again. Then I was eating strawberry yogurt with my friend at a sidewalk cafe. For some reason my winter hat (or touque for you Canadians) was in my yogurt and I thought it was funny. Then after I was done eating at the cafe, we left, but I forgot my hat in the empty bowl of yogurt. I went back to the restaurant looking high and low for my hat. I became very frustrated when I couldn't find it and eventually resorted to digging through the garbage for it. Fortunately, I found it and then I woke up.