Worst Post I'll Probably Ever Put Up

Well, I've another snow day tomorrow, so what better time than now to put up a new post?

Let me begin by saying that Notre Dame is #8 in Men's Basketball, #8/9 in Women's, and their hockey team is also ranked in the top 10...pretty fantastic, if you ask me.

Oh here's something to talk about: How awesome my parents are. My dad managed to teach me more chemistry in 1 hour than my teacher did in 3 weeks...makes him a pretty successful parent. My mother, last Wednesday, must have telepathically known I was having a bad day, because she walked into my room after school and handed me this:

She simply said, "Happy Wednesday!" and walked out of the room. I love her so much.

It seems as every time I start writing, I can't think of anything to say....Oh Gosh. I feel like I'm letting you down. :(

*"Jeopardy" Theme song*

There are things I could talk about, but some of them are better kept to myself and others just wouldn't make sense unless you've lived my life with me....HOLD THE PHONE! My English teacher wrote some really nice comments on my "Call Me Pigskin" essay. I got an A on it and she talked about how I really utilized my creativity and really embodied the football. I'm glad it translated to her. The only bad thing about having done such a good job on my first composition is that it set the bar quite high for my future writings. Will she grade all of them based on that first one? I hope not, because that was one of the best things I've written ever. I know that much to be true. My blog posts will never live up to its wonder.

It is 10:34 and I have just put a call out on Twitter for a blog post topic...waiting now to get replies....

10:39...still waiting on replies...losing patience.

10:46...just got one! But it'll be too long. "The Incredibleness of Disney Movies" That'll probably be a series. So much to say about that.

10:49..."Storm of the Century" from @shoelvr23. I decided to google this and see what the internet had to say about it before I said anything. I came across an article about a 1993 Snow Storm in March that plastered the east coast. (I have just gotten more tweetquests for me to talk about the snowpacolypse and snowmageddon, so I guess I'll talk about it in some way.) Anyway, this storm in 1993 gave Florida 4 inches and killed 310 people total (10 of whom were in Cuba...CUBA!). That is one bizarre storm....reminds me of "The Day After Tomorrow."

I sure hope you have seen that movie...as completely ridiculous as it may be, it was quite fascinating. I tend to be fascinated by catastrophe though. I hear about a disaster and I read up on it like crazy. I've done so on natural disasters, the Columbine High Shooting, 9/11, and Serial Killers. It might make me sound crazy, but I find it really interesting.

Well I know this was a very incomplete post, but I have company coming over. Last minute sleepover for the snowday...I'm pretty excited. (Little kid at heart!)

Good night, stay warm, and don't let the snow kill you!


O Irish! My Irish!

For my English class, I had to write a copy-change of one of Walt Whitman's poems. I obviously decided to make mine about ND Football. I chose to use "O Captain! My Captain!" Here it is. Enjoy!

O Irish! My Irish! Your hard-fought season’s done.
The players fought through every pain, the wins you sought were won.
The sacks were played, the touchdowns made, the interceptions flying,
While defense killed opposing teams, the Irish fans were smiling.
But O heart! Heart! Heart!
What’s this I see right now?
Our quarterback has fallen!
A Hurricane knocked him down.

O Irish! My Irish! The game can still be played!
Our back-up’s dressed and we’re impressed despite his quite-young age.
Number thirteen on the field—his passes quick and straight
Are caught by Mr. Michael Floyd; for the win we wait.
Here Irish! Look Irish!
Your youngest brought us back!
We’re down by just one measly point!
Complete the pass! ATTACK!

O Irish! My Irish! Your faces looked dismayed.
But don’t regret! A lesson’s learned! Your power will not fade!
Utah falls and Army’s beat, and even USC
Falls to the power of the Irish; Ours a Sun Bowl win will be.
Exult O fans, sing out with me!
Our Irish just pulled through!
Once 1-3, now 8-5
ND, I sure love you!



I wasn't raised with a lot of rules imposed upon me. At 7, my parents let me make a lot of my own decisions for better or for worse; 10 years later, that remains the same. Am I saying my parents neglect me? No. In fact, I'm saying something far from it. My parents realized that if they didn't let me make my own decisions, even the bad ones, I would never learn lessons. I think the times they let me wear sweat pants with long-sleeved shirts in mid-July and let me roller-blade without my knee-pads (the helmet was always enforced)....those times gave me the ability to set my own goals, limits, expectations, and boundaries.

What are some of those goals and rules I set for myself?

NO DATING unless he's a really worthwhile guy. If you have to be someone else around him, he's not worth it.

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS "GOOD ENOUGH." If it is grades, relationships, or prayer life, there is no such things as good enough. Saying that is another way of saying you've settled for something that's less than the best. Why settle for an A- when you know you can get an A+? Why settle for KU when you can shoot for Notre Dame? Why write a 1-page essay when you can write a 3 or 4-page essay? Why pray once a day when you can pray once an hour? Why eat by yourself when you can eat dinner with the family? Good enough just doesn't exist.

NO DRINKING OR DRUGS. I don't need them. They won't do me any good. I have no sorrows to drown or secrets to keep in remission. I also have no desire to put myself in such a vulnerable situation. Nothing good can come from doing drugs or drinking under age. I am not condemning people who do, either. It's your choice, and if you want to, I can stop you, but at least be careful and consider the consequences of your actions.

MOM AND DAD SAY AND DO THESE THINGS BECAUSE THEY LOVE YOU. If they don't let me go out, it's because they have a good reason. If they make me eat dinner with the family, it's because they want to talk to me and find out how I am. Everything they do is because it's in my best interest. I just wish my fellow teenagers realized it, too.

BE A GOOD EXAMPLE. I won't be around when my younger sisters are in high school. I want them to see that you create your own happiness. I want them to realized that popularity does not mean having more numbers in your contacts; rather, it is having left a good impression on almost everyone. I want them to be leaders. I want them to make smart decisions. I want them to be perfect and not settle for "good enough." I want them to know that I love them more than my own life, even though it may not seem like it to them sometimes.

BE PATIENT. All good things take time. Do they not? If you can provide for me one example of something really, really good that doesn't take any more than a week, I will write a blog post about anything you want me to (as long as it be appropriate).

LOVE. Love friends, family, God, and even your enemies. I am a very religious person. I do believe that love is the key to happiness and to receive love, you must also give love. Friends and Family are easy to love. It's basically built in. Loving God is a little bit harder. It is so much easier said than done. If He could give His Son to save you and me, He's worth the effort to love. The hardest, though, is loving your enemies. Christ told us to, so we really ought to. He didn't make suggestions; he made commands. But his commands were like those of our parents--only made out of complete care and in good intention. I have come to find that the easiest way to love my enemies is not to have any. (I will say that will continue to be near impossible as long as there are USC fans on the earth. I pray for their conversion constantly.)

These 6 are the fundamentals of my self-imposed rules. New goals and rules come as new obstacles and predicaments arise. They're not going to last me only through high school...they'll follow me into college and even after that. I hope that someday, if I'm meant to be a mom, I'll be able to raise my kids as well as I feel that my parents raised me. Although it is meant to be a compliment toward my Mom and Dad, it sounds quite conceited, but my Parents raised pretty damn good kids. At least, that's what I think.


From Solutions, to Soul Mates, to Hakunah Matata

It's hard to solve a problem when you don't know WHAT the problem is.

Solve for x:


Hard isn't it?

It's not only math problems though. It's your own problems, your friends' problems, your family members' problems, and for some people, even the country's problems. I have always been a problem solver. Give me a problem, and I'll do anything I can to help you. I promise. But I can't do anything if you don't tell me what's wrong.

I happen to have a friend who was not being herself today. This friend (we'll call A), another friend (we'll call B), and I are usually all together--the three of us. Today, however, was much different. A was being distant from both B and I. B and I would see her in the hallway and she wouldn't make eye-contact. We'd try to start conversations and get mumbled, monosyllabic answers. I didn't want to ask what was wrong at school, so I waited until I got home. I called...no answer. I texted...no reply. I even talked to B and she said that she thought A seemed completely fine over the weekend. We're worried. We want to help her, but there's nothing we can do if she won't tell us what's wrong....

But B and I have a theory.

It's one, short, four-letter word that means all that and a bag of chips to girls all over the world:


Oooooh...yes. Those beings that can make us feel blissfully happy or suicidal; confused, angry, frustrated, exhausted, wanted, needed, hated, used. Boys: Can't live with them, but, really, we can't live without them either, can we?

To my devoted readers, you would realize that a year ago, I had a boy problem. (If you would like to read up on it, travel back to my January/February 2010 posts.) I'm well over it now, of course, but I'm glad I went through it because it made me realize one thing: I've got time! I don't need to dumb down, dress skimpily, or pretend to be someone I'm not for a guy. Pardon the vulgarity I'm about to use, but SCREW THAT! I don't need a guy...yet. I'm 17. I. HAVE. PLENTY. OF. TIME. I need to enjoy high school without the drama. Also, I'm sure you knew, but from my experiences, about 99.99% of drama is about the opposite sex.*

*Statistic not researched, but intelligibly guessed.

If this friend's problem is about boys, I hope she comes to realize what I realized. Granted, I learned it the hard way, and she may have to as well, but I just want her to enjoy what's left of high school. It's not worth the worry.

This is also where my theory about "soul mates" comes in. Do I believe in soul mates? Yes, I do, but not in the way most people do. Let me explain:

I have a theory that God created multiple potential soul mates for each person to find; which soul mate we find, however, depends on which paths we take in life. Any little everyday choice--Should I go to the mall today or wait until tomorrow? Do I want to cook in or eat out?--as well as life-changing decisions--Do I want to go to Notre Dame or USC? (The answer on that one is obvious, though. Clearly, you want to go to Notre Dame. Stay FAR away from the SCum.)Do I take the job in Seattle or Boston?--can change which soul mate we stumble upon. These choices we make can change who we marry (no pressure there), but I think that God has a plan. There's not one person out there that God made specially for you--he made several. How else would it work that both you and your ONE soul mate have free wills and will make choices and change your minds and still happen to bump into each other? I'm counting on the fact that there are a few guys out there who would be perfect for me, but whichever one I meet depends on what choices I make. Sounds like a lot of pressure, but I'm not worried about it. "Que sera, sera. What will be, will be." Doris Day was a wise woman.

Once Friend A realizes that, I think she'll be much happier. She'll be able to carpe diem and hakunah matata. I try to do those, and I'm not too worried about what awaits me in the future. Yes, I have bad days, but I am a happy person and I want that happiness for everyone else. And I do mean EVERYONE! (Yes, you too, USC fans. May God help you.)



I have three things for Michael Floyd: This post, respect, and a hug. The first and second I can give to him easily and without his permission. The last...eh, not so much. As for the first, though, I would like to say this: Michael Floyd, the least I can do to show you my appreciation for your selflessness is write this post for you. There are a few things I would like to address.

I copied this off the und.com report about Floyd and his decision to stay:

"'This was one of the toughest decisions I have ever had to make in my life,' Floyd said. 'On the one hand, there was Notre Dame. This place has been an incredible home to me and the relationships I built here are ones I know I'll have for the rest of my life. On the other hand, there was the NFL. It has always been a lifelong goal to play football at the highest level and that is something I look forward to doing at some point. However, I'm pleased to say I will be returning to the University of Notre Dame for my senior season in 2011. I'm returning to Notre Dame for three reasons: to earn my degree, return Notre Dame to the top and improve myself as a player. First, I promised my mom I would graduate from Notre Dame and I am 40 credit hours shy of attaining that goal. I chose to attend Notre Dame in part because I knew it was a 40-year decision and not a four-year decision. Graduating from Notre Dame will help me for the rest of my life. Second, I want to get Notre Dame back to a BCS game. I believe we are very close to returning the Irish to where we belong and I want to be part of something great. Lastly, I want to show everyone in the country that I'm the best wide receiver in college football in 2011. There are many things I need to improve, but I feel with the coaching I have at Notre Dame, I can become the best at my position in this game.'"

Before I go into talking about your reasons, let me just say, I only hope to be able to experience the University's hospitality someday. However, this post is about you, not me, so let me continue.

Earning your degree is a wonderful reason to stay. I've been trying to explain that to people who are still mad at Andrew Luck for choosing to stay at Stanford; however, people don't seem to understand the value of a good education. You did and you then acted upon that realization. I give you major props for that.

Returning Notre Dame to the top once more is, in one word, AMAZING! That is quite selfless of you and I'm confident that I can speak for every Notre Dame fan out there by saying we couldn't appreciate it more! You are a wonderful person!

Now as for improving yourself as a player, I'm no expert, but I don't see the possibility of that. You are fantastic already! I would start listing my reasons for believing that, but then I'd start gushing--and no one wants that.

Whether you had chosen Notre Dame or the NFL,I would have been content. Like I said about Kyle Rudolph, whatever made him happy, makes me happy and it's the same for you. So thank you, God Bless, and I cannot wait to see you on the field in South Bend next season. A little less than 9 months now...it couldn't come too fast if I wanted it to.


There's No "I" In "Fan"

Call me a horrible person if you want, but I got the idea for this post today during the priest's homily at Mass. He talked about how the most word used in the English language nowadays is "I." Thinking carefully about it, I realized he's right. It's very hard to say anything without saying "I." But he did go to mention that in the Catholic Church, it isn't about "I"; it's about us. His concrete example of this was the Lord's Prayer. "Give US this day OUR daily bread and forgive US OUR trespasses...." As he was saying this, I instantly thought of the Notre Dame community.

I don't yet belong to the actual Notre Dame community. In fact, I'm 13 hours away (by car) geographically and 1.5 years away chronologically. But technologically, spiritually, and emotionally I am right there under the Golden Dome, praying at the Grotto, standing in the tunnel in the House Rockne Built, and cheering my heart out for the Basketball teams at Joyce Center. All day, every day. How is this possible? I am a true, full-fledged fan. There are a few things that make my fan-ship more convenient. I've sung the praises of the main one already, but when you like something, there's never enough to say about it. So here we go...

The New Notre Dame Nation (Twitter: @thenewNDNation) is the group of people I can talk to about Notre Dame and they will NEVER get annoyed by me. And that's really good because no one I go to school with really cares. If I want to talk about KU or K-State, then they'll care, but unless it's that, they don't want to hear a word from me.

I am that girl who everyone knows that if they talk to me for a decent amount of time, Notre Dame will come up in some form. Whether it's the school, the football, or the fans, I'm likely to talk about it. Kansans don't really understand my passion for the Irish. I go to school with fake and fair-weathered fans. Fake as in, "I'm going to wear this sparkly KU Sweatshirt because it's a) cute or b) the team my crush likes." Fair-weathered as in, "I'm a KU fan...in basketball season. I'm a KSU fan in football season." *sarcasm alert* Yes, being a fan totally works that way.

Let me assure you, I am not fake or fair-weathered. I did not become a Notre Dame fan because of a boy or a good season. I can't say why exactly I did become a fan though. There was just something about it that drew me in. My dad says maybe it was because ND games were the easiest to access because the home games aired every Saturday on the same channel. But I don't think he's right. I think that was just a circumstantial bonus, if you may. Why I became a fan doesn't matter. What matters is that I am a fan and I am surrounded by a great group of other fans.

Now how does my title work in to this post? You're about to find out. When you're a true fan, you don't care about yourself. You care about the players, the coaches, and the community. I am sick of seeing negativity and selfishness everywhere in the sports world nowadays. To those negative, selfish people, take this into account: These sports are, for you, a hobby and a (maybe) passion. For the athletes and the coaches, it is a living, a lifestyle, and a true, unfaltering passion. What am I trying to say? There's more at stake for the athletes and coaches at the event of a loss or an injury. All you have at stake is a few bucks you bet or your bragging rights. So do two things for me: get over yourself and either be a true fan or don't be a fan at all. Fake fans are not a help; they're a hindrance.

With that, I'd like to say one last thing.

To Lynne, my "big-me", fellow dome-hard (ND die-hard), California girl, and wonderful, caring, kind woman, I wish you the Happiest Birthday and a great year. I also need to say thank you again for the kind words and support you've given me. I haven't "known" you long, but I know that you're one of the best people I've ever met. I really can't stress or say that enough. You rock!


Footballism. Not Feminism.

When people find out that I watch football more than a lot of guys we know, they usually have one of three different reactions: shock, suspicion, or sexism. The shock is usually, "Wow! You really do love football, don't you? That's pretty cool." The suspicion comes usually from girls: "So who are you trying to impress? You're trying to get a guy out of this, aren't you?" The sexism comes from people who don't want to accept that it is now 2011 and women can like football just as much as men.

A few months ago, I was listening to The Bobby Bones Show. This morning radio show has four different anchors: Bobby, Amy, Carlos, and Lunchbox. My least favorite of these is Lunchbox. He's loud, pompous, cocky, and sexist. Ranging from comments about how drunk he got over the weekend or how attractive he thinks he is, his opinions never fail to make me ask, "Who does this guy think he is?!" A particular instance I recall that made me quite angry was when they were talking about certain things men can and cannot do as well as things women can and cannot do. On thing men cannot do: Yell-leading.(Personally, I have no problem with that. Since when was screaming at the top of your lungs and throwing women up into the air not masculine?) On the list of what women cannot do: Commentate on or watch football.

Excuse me? Did he really just say that? Does he know that there are over 30 FEMALE anchors and reporters on ESPN alone and even more on other TV networks? Back to my daily question: Who does this guy think he is?!

Clearly, I was quite angry about that. "Women shouldn't watch or talk about football." It kept bouncing around in my mind. I was trying to grasp that concept. Women shouldn't watch or talk about football? WHAT?! I don't mean to brag, but I know more about football and I get more excited about games than MOST of the guys I know. How many of them are as well-acquainted with the roster and depth chart as I? How many of them know both team and player stats? How many of them get as happy about a win or as angry about a loss as I do? I don't have a head-count, but I do know that it isn't as many as you'd think.

Here's a funny thing that was said to me that just shows how sexist people can really be without thinking about it. I was talking to my dad about football at the dinner table when my older brother (who has never played or watched sports in his life) said to me, "Anna, you're such a guy. Okay, that's cool. Whatever. But if I'm a a guy for liking sports and talking about them, does that make you a girl for not doing that? See how by trying to diss me, he dissed himself instead. Two-bladed sword, bro.

Another thing that riles me up so much about this is that I, apparently, can't possibly be right about anything pertaining to football. A good example of this happened just yesterday: someone made a statement expressing that they thought Andrew Luck would be better off going to the NFL instead of staying in school. My opinion? He's pretty set either way. It's a win-win for him and I don't think anyone really cares that much what he does right now. (Except for the Carolina Panthers.) The guy I was arguing with got pretty heated and eventually cussed me out. I will say, though, that I enjoyed the fact that he cussed me out because it just meant that he knew he was at risk of losing the argument and he acted out aggressively to make himself seem more macho.

Some people may think I'm a feminist for believing that women should have just as much right to enjoy sports, but I am not a feminist at all. In fact, feminists annoy me. They are the reason chivalry is dead. The belief I'm standing up for is what I like to call "footballism." Now please don't think I'm saying that all men are anti-women-watching-football. I have actually met a handful of guys who openly accept the fact that I like watching the sport and talking about it more than many people. However, to the men who are sexist when it comes to football: If I can't play the sport, at least let me watch and enjoy it in peace without men telling me I can't.


Dear Kyle

Dear Kyle Rudolph,

I've heard time and time again, "If you care about something, let it go." I care about every single football player on the Notre Dame football team, including you. As injuries came to the team this season, I began to hurt. Every look of pain on players' faces made my stomach knot and I cringed much like the hurt man. When I heard you were out for the season, the knot and the cringe came knocking. When I heard that you were entering the 2011 NFL Draft, I was actually happy.

I was not happy because you'll be leaving Notre Dame--that, in fact makes me sad. Rather, I was happy that you decided to enter the Draft despite messages begging you to stay. I wish I could do that. I am a people pleaser. I do whatever it takes to make the majority happy even if it is to my own dismay, but you have done what makes you happy, which in turn makes your true fans happy as well. This is your opportunity to find out who is a fair-weather fan and who is really a true, caring fan.

Although it won't be at Notre Dame, I'm glad I will still get to see you play the sport I love to watch. The only difference is I'll have to wait until Sunday next season. A 24-hour wait shouldn't be too bad. With that, I wish you the best of luck, happiness, and health. Go with God! Carpe Diem!


Anna S. Gonzalez

Call Me "Pigskin": An Essay

Most biographies begin by telling of a birth. Mine will not do the same because I was not born; rather, I was produced with many others of my kind in a factory somewhere. I do not know much about my past. Supposedly some Europeans played a game with something that looks like me and other countries saw, changed the way I looked, and now I’m quite popular. Some humans throw me, some catch me, some sign me, some cradle me, some put me in a glass box to display on the mantle, and some see me as a symbol, but most just have fun with me.

I suppose I should now describe myself. I have very rough, brown skin with a few stitches here and there, but the most obvious ones are on my belly. My name, Wilson, is tattooed on my side. My makers must like that name because they give it to many of us. (Occasionally, my kind will be stamped with other logos. They usually read “NCAA” or “NFL”—it depends on who is going to use us.) Maybe I used to be a perfect sphere, but now I look like someone grabbed my sides and stretched them out to a point. Some people say I have the shape of an egg. Whatever an egg is, I’m not sure. The “sphericals” unlike me are symmetrical and beautiful.

Those “sphericals” have many different looks. Some are white and pleated with Japanese cousins named Tachikara. Some are formed from hexagons and have black and white skin. One kind has rough skin much like mine, but it is orange rather than brown with black lines circled around it. Finally, the smallest of them are either white wearing red stitches proudly or bright green with furry skin and white lines circling it. Whilst being so physically different, we all have one common purpose—recreation—but my purpose sometimes extends further than that.

My purpose is to fill people with a desire to compete, a hope to win, a dread of loss, a passion to practice, and a need to show the world of what they’re capable. These feelings start young in the hearts of elementary school boys. They carry them to high school and use them to show colleges why they should play at that school. After college, some men still have those feelings so strong that they utilize them and go “pro.” I rarely have the luxury of being held by small, soft, delicate hands. The hands that do hold me are large and rough. Some have tape on them; others, gloves; and, still, some go bare.

When I’m being used, I go through many different situations. I’ve flown, been dropped and picked back up, sat on, tripped on, thrown to the ground, pushed across lines on the gridiron, kicked, hugged, sweat on, bled on, and held up for the world to see as a symbol of not only six points on the scoreboard, but also the struggle by eleven men to get those six points.

I recall January 10, 1982 where I was thrown by a man in a number 16 jersey that read “Montana” on the back and “49ers” on the front. He threw me with 51 seconds left in the game. If his team didn’t score, they would lose the game to a team called the Cowboys. This “Montana” from Notre Dame let me go. I flew through the air for what felt like an eternity. I was high up in the air and a man in a number 87 jersey labeled with “Clark” jumped to catch me. It was miraculous. The “Hail Mary pass” resulted in not a catch, but The Catch. It’s still famous over a quarter of a century later.

No matter where I am, who’s using me, what’s written on my side, or how many points are scored with me, I have the power to make people extremely happy and proud or I can put them through a miserable week and a horrifying loss. That’s a lot of pressure to put upon an object that has no control over itself. Some people call me a football for the sport that uses me and what people do with me, but you can call me “pigskin.” It’s what I’m made of. Everyone should be known not for what they say or do, but for their gumption, passion, heart, and temerity—what they’re made of is who they are.


Shout Out!

I want to use this post as a shout out to a couple different groups of people. First, to the New ND Nation:

I feel unbelievably privileged to be a part of such a wonderful group of people. I've met so many people who share similar interests, the biggest one obviously being Notre Dame athletics. Living in Wichita does not give me much opportunity to meet many Notre Dame fans. Here, I'm surrounded by KU's Crimson and Blue Jayhawks, KSU's Wildcat Purple, the WSU Wheat Shockers, Oklahoma Sooners, and a few Missouri Tigers, but very few Notre Dame Fighting Irish. However having met these wonderful people, I feel much more a part of something that puts me so close to South Bend while being so far away. Thank You, Nation and GO IRISH!

Second, to the Notre Dame athletes and coaches:

How many people get to be in contact of any sort with their favorite athletes? It's very few, but I'm one of those few. When I first got my twitter account and found these athletes, I was starstruck. These guys are celebrities to me! I couldn't care less about Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, or Justin Bieber. Who cares about them? The fact that you guys are on twitter makes you so much more human! That sounds weird, but think about it. You see these movie and TV stars constantly, but when you really look at them on your TV screen, it barely seems like they're real unless you get to talk to them regularly. I see the ND Football players on TV every week in Autumn, but they still seem so human. It's because they interact with their fans and when you see their posts on twitter, you realize that they really are just like anyone else. Even the players who have gone to the NFL seem more human. Golden Tate, Jimmy Clausen, Brady Quinn, etc. all seem more personal to me than Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, or Ben Roethlisberger. I still get giddy when I get a reply from my favorite ND players. (All of the ND players are my favorite, by the way.)

I used to be very against getting a twitter account because I didn't want to conform, but I realized recently that it is actually helping me be myself more. I don't feel like I have to impress anyone and I can just share my thoughts with the world, which is really cool. I've made friends and "met" people who are phenomenal--people I never would have had the chance to meet otherwise. I am one lucky girl. Fighting Irish, thank you for being so awesome.


New Year!

Welcome, readers! This is my first post of 2011! I don't know what I'm going to talk about in this post. I guess I'll just go with the flow.

Okay...I got something to talk about. Ready? Here we go.

First off, the Irish played a great game yesterday and defeated Miami 33-17. Tommy Rees threw for two touchdown passes to Michael Floyd (who may be entering the NFL draft in the spring) and Harrison Smith caught for 3 interceptions. Beasts? I'd say so!

Also, I put myself out there (took another risk, much like the one I took almost a year ago--see previous posts) and asked Mr. Rees to my prom. According to a report on und.com, he had trouble finding a date to his own prom last year, and I figured, "He's a cute guy. Seems nice. Can't hurt to ask," so I sent him a tweet. Still waiting on a reply...that is, if he ever replies.

But now the Irish are all done until September 3, 2011. Now I turn my focus to Basketball and then Baseball. But football will always be my favorite.

Brian Kelly, I'm pretty sure you'll never see this post, but let me just say, you have reformed the Notre Dame Football program in so many ways! You adopted these players who were brought up by Weis and you taught them how to play under your reign...successfully. That's rare. Look at Turner Gill (KU)...he didn't do so great. At all. Also, you're the FIRST coach to go to a bowl game AND WIN in his first year at Notre Dame. Color me impressed. I look forward to seeing you back next year. I have faith that you'll be able to get the Irish nationally ranked and they could definitely win the BCS National Championship. Just keep doing what you're doing and God Bless you!

Today disappeared. I guess that's what happens when you wake up way too late. Grr. But I had an interesting New Year's Celebration. However, my friend and I missed midnight, so we went out at 1 and celebrated with Mountain Time. I'm pretty sure her neighbors hated that we were using poppers that late.

School starts again on Tuesday. Break, like today, disappeared. I've told myself that I need to do much better this semester than I did last semester. My grades were far from perfect. I dropped from Superior Honors to Secondary Honors. Not so good. I need to fix that and make Superior again. Also, this semester, I need to take my SAT and ACT tests. I'm dreading those, but I have to take them at one time or another. Better get them out of the way. Especially if I'm so determined to go to Notre Dame.

I believe that is all for now. I hope you all have a joyous New Year and your resolutions are fulfilled! I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too much.