Tales from La La Land

This is a blog in which I will contradict my last post. In that post I admitted that I am getting old.

But, recently, I came across some old photos that made me realize I may never fully grow up. It also appears that neither will Chris Hansen, Andrew Longeteig or Rob Moseley. A certain Jerry Elmore seems to have graduated from skinny dipping in the Atlantic Ocean or playing Loaded Questions on New Years Eve, but I’d like to believe that guy is still in there somewhere despite being a newlywed.

The crew traveled to York, Maine for Amy and Andrew’s wedding back in 2003. Prior to arriving in York, we made a stop in Boston and visited the Cheers bar. At some point during our night out, someone stole a roll (and by roll, I mean at least 2,000 stickers) of Cheers stickers.

Those stickers made their first appearance later that weekend at the Longeteig wedding.

They made MANY more appearances that weekend as we stuck them on anything and everything we came across. Upon returning to Eugene late at night on a Sunday, I drove over to Jerry’s apartment to put one on his door handle.

Needless to say, we pretty much played it out. Over time, kind of forgot about them. And then someone gave them as a white elephant gift at one of our annual Christmas parties. Where upon they fell into the hands of one Chris Hansen.

A Cheers sticker then appeared on the condom machine at Rennies.

That same night, I almost got beat up by one of the waitresses for trying to stick one on her butt. (I NEVER back down to a dare).

Time went on and we forgot about them again. Until Chris busted them out at Jerry’s wedding. The following photo details Chris’ sly move. The “Hey, Jerry! Congrats. Let me pat you on the back with this Cheers sticker in my hand.” It’s a VERY mature move, by the way.

However, we may or may not have taken it just a little overboard when we pulled this move. I blame Rob, but who knows. It could have been Amy.

Needless to say, there were some people at the wedding who were less than thrilled with Jerry’s crew of misfits. I’m sure this same crew will do me proud at my own wedding.

P.S. We may have tied Natty Lite to Jerry’s car, but we did NOT stick Cheers stickers to his windshield. I am not sure why.

Cheers Everyone!

It’s official. I am old.

After watching the Duck game yesterday, Laef and I decided to meet up with some of his work peeps. One of them was having a birthday party for her roommate so we figured we’d head over since we, um, well, frankly, our only plans were to hang out with Sanchez.

I am not sure what I was expecting, but I can tell you this: I was not expecting to walk into a house in which a model-bomb had clearly exploded, Flo Rida was blasting and a game of flip-cup so serious that I got the stink eye for trying to join.

Anyway, I did my best to drink Bud Lite and not feel inferior because I was wearing black Target shorts as opposed to Paige Denim jeans and Jimmy Choos. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some cute jeans and heels, but I was ill-prepared. Pardon me for not expecting a party at a beach house to look like the scene at Villa Nightclub in West Hollywood.

Anyhoo. I was feeling a little off-kilter today after the whole house party incident. I was missing my quality friends and wished that we lived closer to our favorite peeps. And then out of nowhere, I got an IM from Erin. We began chatting about the following: Stuffing (the Thanksgiving kind), the Presidential debate, sausage, the New York Times and baking. I swear it was the highlight of my weekend. Then I realized that I think I am finally getting old and grown up. I would much rather talk about cooking and reading the newspaper with a few good friends than rage with a bunch of strangers.

Speaking of cooking. I made French onion soup tonight. Today was about the closest thing to fall we get around here as the clouds never broke and there was a really cool breeze. I was a long way from putting on fuzzy socks and throwing a log on the wood-burning stove, but I figured soup sounded good anyway.

Let’s be honest though. One only makes French onion soup to eat baguettes covered in cheese.

This recipe is from Cooking Light and includes mushrooms. I wasn’t sure about this development, but I like mushrooms so went with it. Personally, I prefer the more classic rendition sans (um, HELLO, French word. Get it?) mushrooms, but it was good. There’s a million versions out there, so really all you have to do is google it if you don’t like this particular recipe.

Caramelized Onion and Shiitake Soup with Gruyère–Blue Cheese Toasts

One last thing before I go. While watching the game at the bar, I noticed an LSU Tiger fan in this getup. Honestly. His wife should be behind bars for allowing that.

It’s a slow news week in the life of A-Ross. I’ve got absolutely nothing. Which, my sister never seems to have a problem pointing out.

Steph: “You’re going to get mad, but your blog has not been that funny lately. You’re in a lull.”
Me: …
Steph: “Brittany’s was hilarious. Did you read it? Oh and Literal Dan. I think he should be me my date to your wedding. Did you see that he commented something to me?”
Me: “Yes. Have you found a job yet?”

You see, my sister is in the midst of a job search so she has 24 hours per day of time on her hands. We have talked on the phone more over the last two weeks than we have in our entire lives. Which is actually nice, except for the fact that this particular week has been horrific for me at work so I can’t talk for long.

Is it wrong that I’m genuinely miffed that I could barely find five seconds to check my email, can’t IM, can’t browse Facebook and update my status with my ever-changing thoughts/moods/feelings? Is it wrong that I am disturbed that I am behind on my blog-reading and commenting and that my sister has noticed?

So this is what the real world is like. I guess this is what I get for complaining how bored I was two weeks ago.

Anyway, there are just some days or weeks that the writing doesn’t come. So, this is what my sister gets. Me writing a blog about her. Which was prompted this morning when she sent me the following photo of Sophie saying, “Look! She’s Sanjaya today!”

Uh-Huh. Like I said. Sophie is gay.

SOPHIE

SANJAYA

I’m taking a break from former Oregon players this week to catch up with Gene Wojciechowski of ESPN. I often wonder how long it took him to learn how to spell his last name. I bet people with complicated last names end up smarter because they can spell big words early on in life.

I can’t remember exactly what game or what year it was that Gene came to Autzen to cover the Ducks. It was obviously during the Joey era, but I don’t remember the exact game. All I remember is that he was really gracious and did not take himself too seriously. Basically, he was as funny in person as he is in his writing. I like people who take their jobs seriously, but not so seriously that they can’t be bothered for a decent conversation over greasy press box food and game notes.

If you read ESPN.com (who doesn’t?), then you’re probably familiar with his columns. I miss working in sports everyday and I can’t imagine having a job that would take me from the Final Four to the World Series to Green Bay on a November day. I’m appreciative of how he captures these moments with great personality.

Even if he is wearing a salmon-colored shirt in his mug and doesn’t think I’m worthy of a blog on ESPN.com. Pfft.

The problem with this Q&A is the onslaught of phone calls it will spark from my mother. Mother, he can not get me a job at ESPN. I will never be the next Erin Andrews (even if I did have a job at ESPN) and no Mike Bellotti does not remember who I am.

Strangely, I could not find any action photos of him. Anyway, here goes…

1. Introduce Yourself: My name is Gene Wojciechowski. I might be the only sportswriter who held Michael Jordan to eight points in a pickup game. Sadly, the game was only to 11. I’m also the only sportswriter to have Michael Jordan on my team in a game–and lose. I work for ESPN.com and ESPN The Magazine, like short walks on the beach, and will never understand why the Green Bay Packers haven’t sued Georgia for ripping off its helmet logo.

2. What is the most memorable sports event you covered? I refuse to choose just one Most Memorable Event I covered. You’ve got to give me three, and even then it’s a toughie. In no exact order: Christian Laettner’s shot to beat Kentucky in the 1992 NCAA Tournament in Philly (in the locker room after the game, Kentucky’s John Pelphrey pounded the cinderblock walls with his fist and cried like a newborn); Larry Bird Night in 1993 at the Boston Garden (full disclosure: Bird is one of my all-time favorite athletes. And yes, I pocketed a bolt from the Garden floor that night. But the ceremony was amazing, the emotions real, and the place packed); Utah wins the West Regional and then wins the Final Four semi vs. a North Carolina team that had Vince Carter and Antawn Jamison (Utah coach Rick Majerus gave me total access during the 1998 NCAA tournament. I remain in awe of how Majerus prepared his team for those games. After the West Regional final win vs. Arizona, the team pushed the coaches into the showers and sprayed 7-Up on each other. There was such an innocence to it all. And it was wonderful to see an underdog team reach the Final Four.).

Honorable mentions: Chris Webber’s time out in 1993; Villanova beats Georgetown in 1985 (the last Final Four not played in a dome); Magic Johnson’s press conference to announce he had HIV; Texas vs. USC 2006; Miami vs. Ohio State 2003; and anything involving Tiger Woods; MJ vs. Utah Jazz in the Finals.

3. What was your first reaction when you heard Rick Neuheisel was hired at UCLA? Two thoughts: The potential to be a great hire…if he learned from his mistakes at Colordado and Washington. And it will be fun to see how T.J. Simers treats him.

4. The college football team that will surprise people this year is: I don’t cover as much college football as I did in the past. But Notre Dame will surprise you–not because of how good it is, but because of how irrelevant the program has become.

5. What athlete provides the best sound bite?: Bill Belichick. Just kidding.
Ozzie Guillen makes your tape recorder beg for mercy; Torii Hunter of the LA Angels is a pleasure to chat with; Peyton Manning absolutely gets it. For outrageousness, Joey Porter is a go-to guy.

6. In your humble opinion, how has the national prominence of the Oregon program changed in the last 15 years? Well, first of all, Oregon leads the world in Most Movies Made About The Same Distance Runner. And even though it was a cheesy idea, the Joey Harrington NY billboard was an interesting starting point for Oregon football. Personally, I would have used the money to endow, say, a scholarship, but the billboard was an interesting experiment, as is Nike’s close involvement with the program. And who can forget a program that gave America the Whizzinator? Oregon is a national player, but eventually its geography will catch up with it. There simply aren’t enough great football players in the state to sustain a program–at least, not in the same way Ohio State, USC, etc., can sustain their programs.

7. Who would win a 40-yard dash, you or Pat Forde? Well, Forde is younger, but I have much less hair and thus, would experience less wind resistance. I’ve played hoops with Forde. He has game.

8. What site/magazines/newspapers are your must-reads? ESPN.com, of course. Your blog. DairyFarmersOfAmerica.com.

9. What’s your guilty pleasure television show? I watch exactly two shows on a regular basis: “30 Rock.” Tina Fey–genius. Alec Baldwin–huge comic chops.
The other show: “Friday Night Lights.” Season One was brilliant. Season Two was uneven, but still occasionally compelling. I’ve been assured by one of the actors that Season Three will be a keeper. And did I mention that Connie Britton deserves an Emmy one of these days.

Honorable mention: “Saturday Night Live.”

10. Can you get me a job? No, I can’t get you a job. Please leave me alone.

Dang.

Where to begin on this glorious Sunday?

After spending the entire morning cleaning our house (which is so fun because I always find my favorite lip gloss in the couch and the watch I thought was gone forever), we decided to head down to the beach to watch the AVP volleyball tournament.

Upon arriving, I couldn’t help but notice how absolutely gorgeous the scene is on the beach. These are the houses we gaze at each time we go to the beach. These are the houses that lead us to hour-long conversations about which one we’d buy if we won the lottery. The houses that help us forget that we haven’t actually won the lottery, but allow us to dream anyway.

Anyway, while I was surveying the scene I came across something that I thought was an urban legend – the chick magnet. Honestly, ladies, no matter how cute the dog is, please refrain from talking to any douche bag that is flexing his muscles while holding a furry puppy.

I finally brought my attention to the volleyball. We only had time to watch the finals, which was worth it because, as usual, Phil Dalhausser and Todd Rogers of Olympic gold fame were playing. It was cool to see them after watching them throughout the Olympics.

We headed home so that I could double check that I was kicking Benji’s ass in fantasy football. I would have been, except my brother alerted me to a roster change he thought necessary and I changed my team late last night. Seeing as I’m 2-0, I probably should have stuck with my first instinct as the guy I put on the bench had 16 points and my brother’s sure-thing had 2 points. There’s still a chance, but that requires Brett Favre to hit his receivers tomorrow. Thankfully Benji is on his honeymoon in Fiji and can’t call to talk shit.

We also came home to our furry little shit for brains. He decided the house was too clean and took it upon himself to TP us.

I guess it’s payback for all the times I did that to people.

Hi Everyone!

Here in Manhattan Beach even the traffic lights are so shocked at Oregon’s Saturday performance that they mixed it up a bit.

P.S. I love the shocker. Thanks City of MB. I didn’t think you had it in you. Heart.

I’ve mentioned before my nervousness about having kids. But, eventually, I will come around, take the lessons learned in my mishandlings of the nieces, and be a kick-ass mommy.

Let me tell you about another thing that I am not a big fan of: Wedding Planning.

I will make one thing clear: I am excited to get married. I think at 34 I have finally straightened my shit out just enough to know who I am. I am finally smart enough to know that I definitely need someone like Laef. You know, someone who brings me 7-up and saltines when I’m hungover. Someone who has no issues with a 34-year old hungover, stinky girlfriend and will still ask: “Are you done throwing up so we can have sex? It’s Sunday. That’s our day. You promised.”

All in all, I am finally ready for that stage of my life.

But, mutherfucker. It is a lot of work. And we are trying to do something simple. In my head, all I want is for 150 of my favorite peeps to roll into Manhattan Beach and drink beer until they strip to their undies, doorbell ditch our wealthy neighbors and cap the night by jumping into the Pacific ocean at 4:30 a.m.

When we got engaged, I already knew who was in the wedding. I knew who was marrying us. I knew who was walking me down the aisle. I ASSUMED that my siblings knew their kids were the flower girls. But, no. I’m told it’s got be all formal and shit.

Conversation Number 1: With Sister Stephanie
Steph: “Why have you not asked Sophie to be a flower girl?”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Steph: “Well, you haven’t done the thing where you ask her to be a flower girl.”
Me: “She fucking 3. Tell her for me.”

Conversation Number 2: With My Other Sister, Brooke
Brooke: “So what is the deal? The girls are in the wedding, but there’s no kids?”
Me: “Yes. The girls are flower girls. Adult only reception.”
Brooke: “So, they are in the wedding and then what do you do with them? Are you going to feed them?”
Me: “It’s September. We will have pizza and some kind of babysitter. Is it OK if I hold off ordering the pizza until sometime in 2009?”

Conversation Number 3: With My Mother
Mom: “Have you asked the wedding planner at the site if you can have rice?”
Me: “Rice?”
Mom: “Yeah. Rice. To throw as you walk down the aisle?”
Me: “I’m going to go with we are not worrying about rice.”

Conversation Number 4: With Stephanie
Stephanie: “You still haven’t asked Sophie.”
Me. …
Stephanie: “Shelly made me this really pretty calligraphy thing to ask me to be in hers and she…
Me: “I have to go. I have an email to write.”

So, I fired off an email to officially ask a bunch of 2 and 3 year olds if they wanted to carry flowers. Which has now led to what kind of dresses they want and if my mom is allowed to have one of her 98-year old friends make them and whether we’re hiring a professional nanny.

I might not be the most adult 34-year old, but I promise. We are planning things little by little. You will have your invitations at least a week in advance. And I’m sorry if I’m not the bride you all want me to be. I’m borderline a dude so take what you can get. Which will be me providing you with ample champagne, a possible strip tease, a dance contest and Laef drunk.

P.S. We have a site that (of course) is still a work in progress, but if your concerned about details you can check it. I plan to update it and give lots of ideas for things to do, places to stay, photos, etc.

XO

www.laefandallison.com

Someone was upset with Rob for linking the Q&As on my blog to his more fancy/popular/prudent blog. They sent an email to the newspaper and said that my blog is “full of sexual innuendos.”

HA.

I wish honey.

And, by the way. I didn’t actually fuck the shoes. Did you read it all the way through? Also, clusterfuck at the grocery store doesn’t mean I had sex with the clerk.

My blog would be so much better if I was a carefree 21-year old living on Pabst and Taco Bell. I guarantee there would many more tales of sex. As it is, Laef and I try to pencil it in before we pass out on the couch. And, if we do get to it, the cat meows outside the door the entire time. It’s super hot.

I will admit that the language is XXX. Or as Rob put it: “You have a dirty whorish mouth.”

Which, by the way, I will NOT put on his johnson.

When I was younger I loved watching grocery clerks scan the items that I had begged my mom to buy – Fruity Pebbles, Juicy Fruit and Capri Sun. What I enjoyed most was the sound of the beep as the items crossed the scanners.

In high school, I got a job at the local grocery store. I started as a bagger and was desperate to make it all the way up to checker so I could finally scan things. I made it. It was cool for a week and then I dreaded seeing carts full of shit coming my way. At which point, I always got on the store microphone and muttered the words: “Mike check please. Mike check please.”

Mike is brother. He’s the only one I could bully into that shit.

Anyway, at some point in the last three years, stores have started to create stations where you can self-check your stuff. My first reaction to this was pure joy. Sweet. I don’t have to wait in line for Molly Douche Bag to sort through her 18 coupons.

However, upon further review I have determined that self-checkout makes me want to hurt people the way the 405 does.

This is usually how it goes:

Me: Scan Item. Place in the bag.
Machine: “Please place the item in the bag.”
Me: “It’s in the fucking bag!” Take item out, try to put it in a different way.
Machine: “Please scan your next item.”
Me: Fuck. How do you scan a apple? Oh. Select the fruits button. Let me see. Is it a Gala, a Golden Delicious, a Fuji, a Granny Smith, a McIntosh? I don’t know. I make my best guess. Which is always the most expensive produce.
Machine: “Fuji apples. $8.79.”
Me: What the fuck. Scan my wine.
Machine: “Please wait for assistance.”
Me: Isn’t the whole point to avoid a clerk?

And so on. And, no, scanning the debit card NEVER works the first time.

From now on, I’m going to wait patiently behind the family of four with two carts full, read my US Weekly and let the clerk decide what kind of apples are in my cart.

Who would have thought that I’d have TWO Johnson references in blog post titles within two days of each other? I guess I love me some Johnson. That’s what she said.

Ugh. Sorry. By the way, if you’re looking for more proof that “That’s What She Said” is played out, Erin has provided a most spectacular link. It is a MUST watch.

Well, I see I am completely off-topic. This week’s Q&A features Patrick Johnson, who had the experience of winning a super bowl while playing for the Baltimore Ravens. I’ve got to think if you’re a football player that’s pretty much the world’s greatest highlight (like my…oh, sorry).

Pat was in school at Oregon at the same I was and it’s nice to see him have so much success. His latest business venture is Lynxx Las Vegas, which he will launch soon. It looks like I might need to look into this as a bachelorette party option.

I should also thank him for getting me addicted to blackjack on Facebook. This application will deprive you of sleep and ensure that you become friends with people in China who want to chat with you but don’t speak English. Fun times.

Without further adieu…Pat Johnson, wide receiver extraordinaire.

1. Introduce yourself: Patrick Johnson

2. My current song of choice is: NAS’ new album “Untitled”

3. Be honest. How many times a day do you bust out the super bowl ring and pose in the mirror?: Never

4. Can you describe the feeling of playing in the super bowl AND winning?: A very surreal experience. Very much like playing in the Rose Bowl. It was hard to conceive of what was happening at the time, and it was hard to conceive of what had just happened after we won it all. It seems so long ago. That’s because it was!

5. Is Ray Lewis really scary or is he funny? Ray Lewis is a guy who is very mild mannered off the field and intense on it. Most football players don’t conduct themselves in the manner that you see them on Sunday’s. They have that innate ability to turn that “switch” on or “get crunk” before the game…

6. What is the funniest on-field football moment you can recall? A tackler pulled my pants down!

7. You are one of the original two-sport Oregon athletes. What’s your take on what Jordan Kent did?: I think that what Jordan Kent accomplished was very special. It’s very difficult to play two sports in college, let alone three. Not to mention letter in all three while carrying a full course workload. It is a testament to him, his family and how they raised him. I am very proud of him and happy for his family.

8. Do you make it back to Autzen for games? The last game I was able to attend was a home game against Washington in 2005 when we blew them out. Once I’m totally done with football, I will make many more games but my schedule hasn’t allowed me to this far.

9. What do you miss most about Eugene?: The people, the ease and quality of life, the air, the mountains and my closest friends.

10. What is your take on the fancy facilities and uniforms at Oregon?: I think it’s great. I remember when my class was brought into the U of O in 1994, we were reported to be the worst in school history in terms of recruit rankings. We went from also-rans in the Pac-10 to now a national powerhouse. I’m glad to be a Duck, and the more success they have inspires me to keep striving for my own.

11. Do you follow the current team? If so, what are your thoughts?: Yes. I’m impressed at how geographically diverse the team is now. Kids from all over the country now want to go to Oregon, which is great. I take a particular liking to Justin Roper because he is from Buford, Georgia, which is about twenty or so miles from my hometown of Gainesville. I look forward to meeting him at some point.

12. What’s your Duck highlight?: The catch at Washington in 1997 without a doubt helped me immensely in terms of developing my confidence as the top wide receiver in the Pac-10. I knew I could be that player but hadn’t come through in the clutch for my team. That was when Pat Johnson the football player was born.

13. What’s your guilty pleasure television show?: Big Brother 10 as of recently! Good grief!

14. What’s your favorite hobby? Cooking and Networking through business.