Sunday, February 5, 2012

super bowl XLVI (lyn)

I prepare for the Super Bowl by eating little.  I have only a lettuce, tomato and one- Laughing Cow Light piece of cheese for lunch. I am starving by 4:30; not a good sign.  I have an apple.

I get to the Super Bowl party that my friend Penny has gotten me invited to.  I have only met the hosts once or twice, but we have mutual friends.  They are lovely, and their apartment is huge and welcoming.  It is a perfect venue for a Super Bowl party, a million times better than mine would have been.  About fifty people show up, and it never feels crowded.  I sit in front of their gigantic big screen TV, and leave my seat only to get more food. 

I start with chips and dips (more than one of both) and then move on to spicy chicken wings.  Next I eat a tennis-ball -sized meatball in tomato sauce.  Delicious.  And finally, I have some baked ziti and lasagna.  I skip the healthy salad and pulled pork.  For dessert, I eat a piece of a flourless chocolate cake, a black and white cookie, and a football-topped cupcake.  The food is excellent but obscenely unhealthy.  Had I eaten nothing for the past week I still would have been over in points tonight.

The company is great.  I sit among mostly men, who help explain the game to me.  I get the basics, barely.  When a female joins us, the conversation briefly shifts to comments about:

  • Tom Brady
  • The weather:  “How come they are sweating?”  (The game is being played indoors in Indianapolis)
  • The teams:  “What colors are the Giants?”
It is a thrilling game.  I watch with the intensity of a loyal fan, although I’m not.  But I love seeing Tom Brady and Eli Manning duke it out.  With minutes left in the game, the Giants score and then win, 21 to 17.

I walk the few blocks back to my apartment and horns are blaring, people are singing in the streets, and from one bar, I hear New York, New York being sung. It's another great night to call New York home.

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