Superbowl Madness.

Why do I want the Saints to win the superbowl?

That's why.

Second Chances- Part II.

In order to understand, go read part I!

As I sped down to the hospital, thoughts raced through my mind. I was nervous to see him, nervous he was hurt, nervous to fall for someone I hadn't liked before. Sliding into a handicapped parking spot (whoops) I sped walked my way into Danbury Hospital's doors. Hall after hall I walked down until I finally figured out I was on the wrong floor. The elevator ride seemed to take a century when finally the doors opened and I was in the ER.

I knew I was in the right place by the flustered faces of patient's family members and doctors talking in hushed tones. Still walking abnormally fast, I followed the signs to the waiting room. As I turned the hallway, I saw him. Still dressed in his white basketball uniform, he was pacing back and fourth with one hand in his pocket and one to hold the ice on his lip. I stopped, watched him for a good five seconds and took a deep breath.

His smile was cuter and bigger than ever although crooked from the swelling. A quick hug for him and his mom and the doctor called his name to go in. He reached out for my hand as the nurse gave five stitches on the outside of his lip and four on the inside. His mom's eyes widened as she looked down at our clasped hands. After all, she was full aware that I had rejected her son months before. After a short hour and a little paperwork, he was all good to go.

"I could drive him home," I suggested. His mom a bit hesitant looked at his pleading face and agreed as long as I promised to "take good care of him."

The conversation quickly switched from basketball to relationships and finally to that fateful topic... us. As we sat in my car in his driveway, I was honest. I told him of my confusion with the situation and how somehow, some way I had feelings for him. That was when he said it,

"You know... I never stopped liking you."

Sparing details, that night I fell for a guy I had once hated. I still can't explain it and I don't know if I ever will be able to.

I thank my lucky stars however for that night and am finally content with the fact that he's a 'sweet guy.' Because now... he's

My Sweet Guy.

Second Chances- Part I.

Writers Note- In order to explain my boy status right now... I'm going to use two posts. Here is part I.

I've never been a big fan of sweet guys.

Sure sometimes it's cute and looks great in chick flicks...

but it's just not my type.

So when I heard that the shy guy in a neighboring ward had a crush on me, I was a bit hesitant. He was just so sweet. But, he was pretty cute. And liked me, a braceface who was trying to figure out where she fit in. So, I did what any outgoing, flirtatious, 16 year old would do... I gave him a try.

It started with our walk in 5 degree weather at youth conference. I grabbed his hand to break the ice... I could tell he was nervous. This awkward 'I have a crush on you' phase carried over the next couple of weeks. He was nice, he made me feel good, but I hadn't quite fallen. Instead of ending things however, I decided to see how things would play out on a date.

Our first date seemed to be like most first dates when you're 16. Dinner, scary movie (where he put his arm around me I might add) and a kiss on the front porch. I was giddy and excited but I couldn't tell if it was from him or from the fact that I had just gotten kissed for the first time. I was immature, I was scared and I finally ended it. Tears streamed down my face as I looked up at the sweet boy's face when I told him things were over. He look crushed.

'I'm still going to like you,' he said. That killed me.

A few encounters happened on and off but I had been more focused on trying to win the funny guy in english class to think about the 'sweet guy' and how I had hurt him. Needless to say, english class clown didn't work out. And a package in the mail with M&M's asking me to sweet boy's prom came at the right time. A few awkward moments here and there came at the dance and still... I still didn't feel anything.

Summer skipped along as it should with little encounter with the sweet guy. At the beginning of the year, I decided I wanted to see him more. Not because I was attracted of course, but because he was a 'good friend.' A few hang-outs here and there, conversations over facebook and finally he invited me and my friends to his basketball game. I was looking forward to go, after a rejection from the cute football player at the beginning of the year, I just wanted some guy friends. I had decided I was once and for all done with high school boys romantically and had started counting down the days until I went to BYU. Too bad that number was still in the 500's.

It was five minutes before our scheduled departure that I got the phone call from my friends. They couldn't come. So I had a choice, should I bail, stay with my friends and apologize for not coming... or should I take the plunge and drive the 40 minute ride to see my 'good friend' play a basketball game? It took me five seconds to decide to hop in my car and put his high school's address in my navigational system, I had no idea what I was thinking...

The drive was lonely and filled with replays of Taylor Swift songs. It was about a half an hour into the ride when something told me to turn the music down. I needed some peace and quiet, I needed to think.

Before I tell you this, you need to promise not to laugh. I'm not kidding. Because if I heard it... I absolutely, 100% would. Please, just don't laugh.

All of the sudden, I started to think of this sweet guy. This overwhelming feeling came over me. I cared for him. A lot. A lot more than what I had previously thought. And we were going to date... somehow I just knew it.

I tried to brush the thought off, he wasn't my type, I had dated this kid over a year ago. But the feeling stayed strong and by the time I had pulled into his high school, the butterflies were going crazy. I tried banging my head against the steering wheel, thinking about other guys... nope, I liked him and there was no more denying it.

As I was in lala land, I heard my phone vibrating in my pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hi Elizabeth," it was sweet boys mom. "Matt got knocked out in the game... we're on our way to the hospital."

And with that, I punched in the hospital's address in the navigational system and drove away to hold my future boyfriend's hand in the Emergency Room.

To be continued...

Goodbye Chem... Hello Blog.

I felt awkward in my guidance counselors uncomfortable chair.

"I can't do it. It doesn't make sense to me. I'm going crazy,"

Mrs. Miles listened carefully as I spilled my feelings about chemistry class to her.

It didn't take long for her to make the decision to remove it from my schedule.

So now as I sit here free of periodic tables and significant figures...

a weight is taken off my shoulders and time is added to my schedule.

Time that will be, I promise, filled with blogging.

So yes, to my two fans, I'm back.

Get ready for friend drama, boy stories and much more.

I missed this.

To Infinity and Beyond...

"We could be Mario and Luigi or three blind mice without the third," Christina and I had been sitting at the computer trying to come up with ideas for halloween costumes for the past twenty minutes.

Halloween with Christina had been a tradition since I was three. Nothing took the place of it. And now, just like every year before, we sat trying to think of what we should be.

"Let's be Woody and Buzz Lightyear!" I said in between giggles. The sarcasm in my voice was obvious.

"Yes!," she said without a hint of sarcasm. "That's perfect."

And the more I thought of it, the more I realized how perfect it really was.

5 ft. 10 Christina would make a flawless Woody while my 5 ft. 3 stature would fit Buzz Lightyear impeccably.

The relationship of this dynamic duo had been up and down throughout the Disney Classic, "Toy Story." As I prepared to order my Buzz costume, I thought of how much like them we truly were...

Christina had been my best friend from the moment we met. Our days were spent playing house, swimming in my pool in our matching bathing suits, riding our bikes the 60 second route to each other's houses, stuffing our faces with potato chips while watching Lizzie McGuire and everything two little, blonde girls could think of. Christina was all I knew in a friend.

Middle school took us by surprise and something was different. The day came where Christina was asked to sit at 'the table.' Yes... THE table. This table consisted of the pretty and for lack of a better term 'popular' girls in my grade. I remember chatting with Christina until we got into the lunchroom. I walked over to my typical table expecting for my best friend to be behind me. But when I turned around, Christina and her brown paper lunch bag had done elsewhere. The days continued on like this, until pretty soon, Christina's absence at our Lunch table became permanent for the fifth grade.

But no matter what table she sat at, Halloween continued on every year, with each other, where no popular girls could tear us apart. There was no one to judge us as we hopped from house to house down our lane, snacking on over milky ways and reeses pieces. Halloween, was our time.

Sixth, seventh and eighth grade seemed to pass on with the same result. Each day as I would sit down at the exact same lunch table with my exact same friends, I would peek over my shoulder to see Christina, to see my former best friend. I loved her with all of my heart, but things were just not the same. The days of eating nachos, watching Disney Channel and giggling at each other seemed so far away, so hard to reach. Things seemed to only go back to normal on that one day in October. But secretly, I wished every day could be like that.

It wasn't until my sophomore year when I realized things were actually changing.... Christina was actually changing. She had stopped drinking, stopped hanging out with the wrong crowd and most importantly, she started to become my best friend all over again. The memories flooded back of why I had relied on her for everything, why I shared with her all of my secrets, why she was the first one I told when I held my boyfriend's hand in 5th grade. She was the girl played tic-tac-toe with my on the bus, the one who would ride her bike over to my house just so I didn't have to ride past our neighbor's scary dogs, the one who always knew how to say sorry first. And together, we just fit.

A year later, I couldn't call her anything other than my best friend. And on our day, on Halloween, I ran through public with that best friend in our Buzz and Woody costumes, all eyes on us, laughing the whole way.

As we ran through the airport holding hands and snapping pictures, I echoed the famous line while raising my fist high into the air,

"To Infinity and Beyond!"

And that, is exactly where our friendship is headed.

writers note: I know I haven't blogged in forever. Junior year is one of the hardest I've ever had. Be patient and I promise I'll be better!

Lost without you.

"No you don't get it. I like you... but I really like someone else."

The words came out of my crush's mouth slowly. We sat in silence in his big white suburban as the rain came down on the high school parking lot. I didn't know what to say. After our lunches together, our constant texting, the way he always put his arm around me when he saw me in the hallway... it just didn't make sense.

"She's really great. She's everything I've ever wanted in a girl," he said to break the silence.

I couldn't hear anymore. So I did what any other heartbroken sixteen year old girl with tears streaming down her face would do. I opened the car door and stepped out. I got in my own car, turned on Coldplay and sped away.

I needed something or someone to talk to at that moment. Somewhere I could go and just say everything I felt. I had my friends... but how much more should they have to hear me rambling on about boys. I had my sister.... but what does a mom with two little girls care about high school drama? In reality, there was nobody to talk to or cry to. Nobody I could just let go in front of and say everything I was feeling.

Well, there was somebody. But somebody I had abandoned, somebody I didn't want to deal with anymore and planned to remove them completely.

That somebody... is this blog.

I had tossed and turned for weeks about the status of this blog. There were days when I was determined that I would just press the delete button and that would be it. My blog was unimportant, it didn't do anything for anybody. It wasn't like my sister-in-laws that kept people updated on family, it wasn't like my sisters where the posts were inspiring and exciting to read. No, it wasn't like any of those blogs.

But it was my blog. And it helped me.

It helped me with friends, with boys, with loneliness.

I wrote about my victories, times where I felt on top of the world, times where I felt important.

I wrote about my opinions, my views, my ideas.

There were posts that made no sense, posts that were funny, some posts that were downright depressing.

Those posts, no matter how sappy or stupid or lame they were, came from a girl who needed to write.

So that same girl will write on....

Friday Night Lights.

4th grade was the year of the friday night lights.

September, October and November were filled with sitting in the bleachers watching my older brother Nate out on that New Canaan High School football field. I loved it more than anything.

The brisk, new england fall air, the overly excited parents yelling at their sons and my favorite part... the cheerleaders.

4 years later as I stepped onto the field as one of those cheerleaders, the same friday night lights beemed down. The bold red of the boys jerseys seemed brighter than ever before. The sea of high schoolers was even louder. The yells of the team captains getting pumped up echoed accross the field.

As I enter my third season under those friday night lights, I realize how much a part of me they have become. How they connect me to my older brothers who once played for the team, how they give me a confidence to cheer and to cheer loudly, how they fill me with pride for our school, for cheerleading and for the tradition of the friday night lights.