Team Gordon

Merry Christmas

2011-12-20T17:10:00.003-07:00

From James, Patrice, Baby, and Diesel the pouting reindeer

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-30T15:28:00.004-06:00

After great thought, and a lot of practice, Patretus finally mastered her Halloween pose (since it wouldn't be quite right to call it a costume at this point).

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Baby Skeletor.

Isn't she scary?

Rounded to the nearest tenth Top Ten.

2011-09-25T16:52:00.022-06:00

It's been a while. In fact, it's been FOREVER! Needless to say, it was time to update the world on what was going on with Team Gordon. So here it is... drumroll please. We've decided to throw together a Top 9 Events of the last 7 months. I mean, round numbers like 10 are so overused. . . and frankly, overrated, and this certainly has nothing to do with the fact that no matter how hard we tried, we could not come up with one more thing to make it an even ten. Nine is so close to ten anyway, so who's even counting?!

In any case, enjoy.

9. The Move: On Febraury 9th, 2011 we decided to pack up all our things and get out of the snow of Utah and into the sun! We moved to AZ where I was able to live it up on the golf course, running old men for all they're worth, which was less lucrative then simply collective. Turns out a long drive in AZ wins you a pair of dentures. Though you wouldn't believe what those are worth on the black market down here...
Diesel took the move pretty hard, and just seems to be hating life. :)

8. Les Miserables: Patrice's mom surprised us with some tickets to see Les Mis in June. No pics to share from this one, but it was INCREDIBLE! Though evidently they don't think kindly of crowd members standing up and singing along... What can I say? The beating of my heart echoed the beating of the drum!

7. San Diego: The entire Erb clan took a vacation to San Diego in June and had a blast! Most of the time was spent hanging out on the beach playing whiffle ball, paddleball, and volleyball. We also went to Sea World, and FYI sitting in the Soak Section isn't nearly as fun as it used to be as a kid, though it was the perfect cover-up after wetting myself with excitement during the dolphin show.

6. Grand Canyon: My brother Joe and his family were moving from Texas to Sacramento so we met them in Flagstaff and made a trip to The Big Ditch. It was a first for me, and it was an unbelievable experience. Joe and I decided to get adventurous and go beyond the railing, though you couldn't pay enough to go that close to the edge. As you can tell, I can see the view just fine from 20 feet back.

5. Coaches Gordon: Patrice got hired as a JV volleyball coach at her Alma Mater, Ironwood High School. I also started coaching JV football at Valley Vista High School (Go Monsoon!). It makes for some pretty long days for both of us, but we are both loving it! Coaches Gordon have thus far amassed a combined 8-3 (.727) record, which begs the question: where would these teams be without us? No answers please. :)

4. Un Nouveau Prof de Francais: After applying for tons of jobs in AZ, I finally was able to land one! That's right, I am finally putting my PE degree and English teaching minor to work by teaching.. French? Oui. Le Francais. Valley Vista High School in Surprise, AZ decided to take a chance on a PE teacher with no experience to take over teaching French. So far it's been... interesting. It's a lot more work than I ever anticipated, but I am starting to get my feet under me. I haven't put anybody's head through a wall.. yet. Small victories!
Patrice insisted that I get my picture taken on my first day. Le nouveau prof de francais est si beau!!

3. Bandon Birthday: My dad's 60th birthday was in September and we concocted an elaborate scheme to make it his best yet. Thanks to some help from Joe's high school buddy, we were able to surprise my dad at Bandon Dunes, where we played all 4 courses over two days (no carts allowed at Bandon Dunes). Pacific Dunes is ranked as the second best course in the country by Golf Magazine, and it brought us all to our knees. My iPhone's camera could only capture a piece of how amazing the courses were, and words can't really describe what an amazing weekend it was.

2. Gold Cup 2011: It just so happened that the same weekend we went to San Diego the Gold Cup Final was in Pasadena. The prospect of Mexico vs. USA in the final was too much to pass up so we went with Patrice's brother, Todd and his wife, Kristin. The final attendance count was somewhere around 93,000 with maybe 10% of those fans cheering for the US. It looked promising when the US went up 2-0, but Mexico proved too much in the end, winning 4-2. At least, I think that was final score. We didn't stick around to the final whistle, choosing to sprint to our car instead of becoming celebratory piñatas for the 85,000 less-than-sober Mexico fans. Run for your life, gringo! :)

1. Patretus: That's not a type-o. You read it right. Patretus. For those who haven't heard, Patrice is pregnant, due mid-March 2012. We are pretty freaking pumped about it, to say the least. After some time, we decided that we couldn't really refer to it as "Baby" since it was more fetus than baby, so we decided to start calling it Patretus which may or may not stick when it's born. After all, Patretus Gordon has a ring to it...

Sitting in the airport

2011-02-04T20:42:00.009-07:00

Right now I'm sitting in the airport waiting for a flight that was supposed to leave at 7:05. . . it's now 8:43 and it's scheduled to depart at 12:25. Pretty much I have a lot of time on my hands and no reason not to blog. I should have a lot to write about, but I just went through my pictures and found a few that are pretty cute that I meant to post but never did. Here they are.This is Diesel in his Halloween outfit. He's a bat. . . and he LOVES it (as you can see).

We went on a drive through Provo Canyon back in November and decided to get out and take a few pictures. Well, Diesel would not stop squirming around so the first picture turned out like this:

And the second one turned out like this:

He wasn't very happy after that.

James and I went to Hawaii with my parents (which was awesome, even though I never blogged about it). I laugh every time I see this picture because they were both such good sports about the flowers behind their ears (which I'm not entirely sure was even my idea in the first place). We went to the PCC, Pearl Harbor, the USS Missouri, and the North Shore. James and I also ate at Ted's Bakery (3 times in 2 days). Their chocolate haupia pie was delicious.

I've been watching a lot of old home videos lately, and I'm just going to be honest. I was the cutest little girl in the world. Seriously. Don't you think so?

Last one I promise. Diesel puts up with so much from me. I put his ears back in a ponytail and I think he looks like a samurai.

That's all I have for now. And it's only 9:15. It's going to be a long night.

Respecting Thanksgiving

2010-11-19T18:36:00.005-07:00

We live in Utah. I don't know about everywhere else, but in Utah Christmas music starts the day after Halloween. James sternly told me the other day "Thanksgiving will be respected in our house," meaning no Christmas music or decorations will be tolerated in our house until Thanksgiving has been completely enjoyed. Consider the new background a sign of my respect for the often overlooked holiday.

(On a side note, I have been listening to Christmas music in my car since November 4th. He specifically said in our house, so I don't think I'm breaking the family rules.)

Recognition is the first step to recovery

2010-10-12T10:35:00.004-06:00

I admitted something to James last night that I have never told anyone before. There was no reason for me keeping this a secret except for not wanting to sound weird. . . but everyone is a little weird, right?

So here it is:

I LOVE Lucky Charms cereal. We don't get it a lot because I pretty much eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner until the box is empty. We had coupons last week so I got to get two boxes at one time. Mmmmm. When I was younger I would only eat the delicious little marshmallows (I'm sure most people can say the same and I'm sure my siblings LOVED me for that). Now that I'm older and much more mature I just eat everything else and save the marshmallows for last. I'm not that weird, right?

If only that were my secret.

When I have a bowl of milk with only marshmallows left I can't just eat them like I eat all other cereal. I like/have to eat THREE marshmallows at a time and they all have to be different (one horseshoe, one pot of gold, one rainbow) OR they all have to be the same (three clovers). I don't know when this started or why I insist on doing it but I have to. There are exceptions, of course. Like at the very end if I have four left, I'll eat the four all together if they are all different. If they aren't I'll separate the ones that are the same and eat two at a time. Or if there are three left, I'll eat two and one. Does it make sense?

After I told him my secret he said to me "Recognition is the first step to recovery."

So here I am, admitting to you all that I have a problem. Hi, my name is Patrice and I eat my Lucky Charms marshmallows weird.

This is where you say "Hi Patrice" and tell me about your weirdness. Don't worry, this is a safe space. No one will judge (I hope).

?

2010-09-28T23:02:00.001-06:00

Does updating the background of our blog count as an update?

U.S.A! U.S.A!

2010-06-05T10:05:00.003-06:00

James and Diesel are ready to cheer on the U.S. during the World Cup that starts next week. I'm excited too but Nike.com doesn't sell women's soccer clothing for some stupid reason. Don't worry, I'm not bitter at all.

Golf

2010-05-28T11:41:00.008-06:00

We like to golf.

I like golfing because I get to use my pretty pink and orange golf balls that James bought just for me.

James likes golfing with me because I get to be his caddy.

Yesterday was the best day of golf I've ever had because I got my very first ball mark after hitting a very beautiful shot (which was a little too beautiful because it hit the green and continued to bounce right past the hole and down a very large hill). Can you see it?

I was so proud of myself.

On a side note, I cut my hair for those of you who didn't already know. I went crazy and decided to donate it. I'm still getting used to not being able to put my hair in a ponytail without a million clips holding it in place. But I like it. I want it to grow out a little bit, but it's a fun change from having really long hair. And I get to look like Erin.

Another side note, here's another picture of Diesel listening to the walls talk to him. I just think it looks so silly. What dog sits and stares at walls?

Diesel's Sixth Sense

2010-05-13T12:39:00.005-06:00

He hears walls talk. . .

What do you think they say to him?

My Little Guinea Pig

2010-02-18T18:38:00.013-07:00

About a month ago I got a sewing machine for a few reason. One, I was in desperate need of a talent of some sort. Of course, being athletic is great, but in the world of Provo, Utah, if you don't sing (like me) and don't play an instrument (like me) and can't create cute things to show off to your friends (like me a month ago) you pretty much feel like a huge failure. Two, I wanted a new hobby. And three (which I didn't know was a reason until after I started sewing), I wanted to dress Diesel up in cute little clothes without feeling guilty spending money on stupid dog outfits.

I started simple. After going through my t-shirts I found a BYU shirt that I haven't worn in quite a while, cut it up, and started sewing. It was so funny because Diesel stood so proud every time I held something up to him to measure it. He kept trying to jump on my lap to see what I was making him. And what did I make him? A cape, and he LOVES it. He prances around the house like he's such a stud and it's just so funny.

The second thing I made was a little more ambitious, and I think it turned out pretty good.

Introducing our little gangster.

Ok, so it turned out a little huge. I blame the size chart on the back, because while Diesel's body length may be a medium, nothing else really is. Don't worry, I did a little improvising and now it fits better. The best part is Diesel loves wearing it and he looks so cute.

I also made James and myself some pajama pants, but those aren't nearly as cute.

Baby Diesel

2010-02-04T18:45:00.006-07:00

I fell in love with this picture online.

So we went to the Sandy Animal Shelter to get him.

And he's the best dog in the world.

Except he farts ALL the time. I hope the fart medicine I bought yesterday starts working.

Isn't he cute?

Projectiles and Snuggies

2009-11-04T23:08:00.004-07:00

When we found out ESPN's College Gameday was coming to Provo, we knew we had to be there. If you've ever seen it, you know that there are tons of crazy fans there, and a load of signs, all hoisted on poles, that say things like "Charlie Weis? Better hide the twinkies" or "Corso is a loser". We knew it would be an early Saturday morning, considering we knew that people were camping out and the show began taping live at 8 a.m. Well the night before we ran to Wal-Mart, picked up some posterboard and a giant sharpie, and sat down to make our legendary signs. The first was easy. How would people know it was us on TV? Simple. A giant sign that says "HELMET GUY" with an arrow pointing down. We didn't really have to worry about originality because odds were good that no one else was going to show up with that same sign. The second was a little more challenging. Some thoughts that went through my head were "Herbstreit wears women's underwear" and "Corso and Jesus love the Cougs". However, I knew that BYU's finest, armed with electric shavers and hair clippers, would be stalking the grounds, making sure everyone attending was clean shaven, wearing knee-length shorts, and representing BYU well. After all, if College Gameday went to heaven, WWJD? Certainly no references to women's underwear or Himself. Somewhere around 2 a.m. the thought struck me--or maybe it was that intoxicating Sharpie smell. Yeah, we were hotboxing it in our tiny apartment with a Sharpie.

Trying to get into Gameday was a fiasco. Thousands of people were in line to get in and get a spot where they could get on TV. Finally we got to the gate, but were turned away because I was wearing my helmet. Evidently, BYU Police were afraid I would become enraged if Corso put on that cursed Horned Frog Mascot head, and subsequently try to launch my helmet and knock Corso out with a double round-house helmet to the face. Really? I mean I told them I would expect that kind of thing from Patrice, but certainly not from me!

Well the helmet and I were not to be separated (we had made a binding contract, sealed in blood, the day I made it) so we tried to find a spot where the signs could still get on TV. The Fuzz was on to me though--they knew a disgruntled special needs child like myself would try and do something stupid. Then they saw the sign. But I wasn't even holding it. There, above the crowd, held by dear, innocent, sweet Patrice, read the words: "Gary Patterson wears a Snuggie!" Yes, that's right, we were accusing TCU's head coach of atrocious behavior. Mothers wept and turned away, shielding their babies eyes from the offensive words. Fathers cried out in horror at such a disgusting display of disgustingness. Somewhere, high in the administrative offices of BYU, President Samuelson sighed, shook his head in sorrow, and changed the channel, whispering a prayer for our lost souls.

The sign was ripped from Patrice's grip, and thrown into a burning pile, where I also spotted Catcher in the Rye and the cursed witchcraft series of Harry Potter. No place in the world for garbage like that.

Well to make a long story long, Patrice and I escaped with our lives and still managed to get a little TV time. Well, at least she did.

And Corso was still just a helmet's throw away.

Thanks a lot Stephen King

2009-10-25T22:46:00.003-06:00

Patrice and I decided to get a dog.

Considering my late hours at work, and since Patrice had already used every possible combination of pictures on makemebabies.com, it seemed like a good idea to get her a little buddy that would make our apartment seem a little less lonely.

Our landlords had already given us permission to look around, and to let them know if we found one we wanted. However, there were some restrictions put on having a dog: no peeing, no pooping, no barking. Hmmmm. Good thing we weren't asking to have a baby.

After some searching, we found the perfect little Mini Pincher-- a pure bred at a reasonable price (you'd be surprised how much people are asking for mutts!). We even had the name all picked out for him.

Well before buying him, I just wanted to make sure that it was still alright with them. Let the game of cat and mouse begin... Texts with no response, calls with no answer. All the while, I had asked the owner of the dog to hold him for a few days, telling her that we were set on buying him, we just needed a last shred of approval from our landlords..

Finally, we got the call back. "Ya know, my wife is pregnant. Sooooo..."

"Oh well I have arranged everything to make sure that he is pretty well trained before even moving him in. And our schedules overlap just right so we won't have to lock him in the bathroom..."

"Yeah. Ya know, I just don't think we would feel comfortable with a dog around the house all the time."

Whoa. What? I made sure to reiterate that we were getting a little dog, and that he wouldn't just be roaming free. The answer was still no.

Evidently, somewhere in between our conversations about getting a dog, they got into their minds that we were going to travel back in time to 1984 and snatch up the demon-puppy gatekeeper from Ghostbusters. Ya know, the same dog that chased you in your nightmares as a kid?

Somewhere in our talk of Mini Pinchers and Miniature Doxies, they got a mental image that looked more like something from a Stephen King novel:

And little less like something from reality:

I don't know about you but I some differences between the two. Though I am sure the little guy would have created a few problems: chewing on our couch, scratching at the door, eating our landlord's unborn fetus while they sleep. Ya know, the usual. Puppies will be puppies.

So we'll have to wait to expand our little family.

But we'll probably name him Cujo.

Politically Awesome!

2009-10-25T22:46:00.001-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCiTAJi1yRk&feature=related

What better way to celebrate the election of our first black president then to grow a giant weed-fro on his politically "Determined" face?

People will do anything for a buck.

Ours is in the mail.

Unfortunately, we couldn't shell out the $60 for his politically "Happy" face. There's just something odd about paying more money to look up and see our president's clay head, who after a few days of water and sun reminds us more of Don King or a young Michael Jackson (R.I.P. homie), smiling as the economy tanks.

I want to look up from my kitchen sink to see my Alfalfa=headed Obama looking like he is doing something to save my 401k.

Nothing says "Yes We Can" like my Determined Chia Prez.

Behind the Poop

2009-10-25T22:45:00.002-06:00

Both Patrice and I figured that we should explain the story behind the nickname Poop Chin. But instead of telling the story in words, why not show a VH1-worthy "Behind the Poop". Allow me to dramatically set the scene before you watch the video:

Imagine Patrice attempting to do The Worm (which, considering her thuggish-ruggish nature of hip-hop and dance, shouldn't be too difficult).

But for entertainment's sake, she decides to begin by introducing this Worm with a crowd-pleasing handstand.

Well, you can see where this is going. Perhaps in not so formal an introduction: face meet carpet. Carpet, face.

Friction.

Rug burn.

Here's the best re-creation we could find. (Our search was, to say the least, extensive.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ora35AzLxt0

Only in our story, it was Patrice not midgets.

But oddly enough, she was wearing a blue singlet.

When the smoke cleared, and the wrestlers went back to the Shire, our dear Patrice was left with a sizeable scab on her chin. Well when Todd saw it, he figured instead of the obvious answer (an altered break dance move gone wrong), that Patrice had gone litter-box bobbing for bum-apples. When he pointed and laughed, crying "It looks like you have poop on your chin!", the name just stuck.

A star was born.

Bun(s) in the oven!

2009-10-25T22:45:00.001-06:00

Alright, so before you all get worked up thinking that a little one is on the way, let me explain. The hours that I work are from 3-11 pm, Saturday through Tuesday (and every other Wednesday). So needless to say, Patrice has a lot of alone time. While we were dating, she was still in school so I never really thought much about how she occupied her time, since she was so studious. But now school is over for our big-time college grad, so what in the world does she do all day?! Well, we now know the answer. I came home tonight and found out that she had gone to makemebabies.com--which is a website that makes good on its promise, as long as you upload a picture of Mom and Dad (If you are thinking about "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days" here, you are hitting the nail on the head). Well, it's no secret that Patrice and I are really, really ridiculously good looking, so why would our child NOT come out looking as devilishly handsome as David Beckham himself?! How wrong we were. . .

Voila le result.

Somehow, inside the world of makemebabies.com, when the computer analyzed my hair color and Patrice's it concluded that not only would our son have red hair, but an embarrassing Comb-over of Fire, rivaling only that of a love child between Donald Trump and Carrot-top (Now, there's a mental image for you... you're welcome). Maybe his hair was scorched to that flamboyant auburn in the seventh circle of hell, which is the same place he got his smile. You can't tell me that kid is not going to climb out of his crib, walk down the stairs on his hands, get a knife from the kitchen, and butcher us in our sleep. Then again, maybe Patrice uploaded an image from "Rosemary's Baby" instead of me. . .

Then there's the issue of his three-year old face being attached to an infant's body. Don't get me wrong, I loved the movie "Willow" but I didn't want to bring him home with me.

Now for our precious daughter:

It's apparent that the computer didn't think much of our hair (again) and decided our baby would look better in a turban pulled from Bin Laden himself. Not to mention the hindu-esque robe she is wearing. Other than that, she is a little darling, worthy of our affection. . .

--and if the boy was really ours, we would love him too.

I guess.