Super Bowl Sunday is like Christmas morning to the fans of the competing teams. For me, Super Bowl Sunday is an excuse to pig out on incredibly unhealthy but equally delicious food, watch commercials that I would normally fold laundry to and watch Madonna shake her 50-something year old money maker (and the rest of her outrageously toned body that puts-my-lazy-ass-that-almost-never-moves-from-my-indent-in-the-couch to shame). I headed over to my good friend Meaghan's to participate in the highly anticipated sporting event, and although my excitement level was equivalent to that of a sloth (not even going to pretend that I like football. That was a job for my high school, wanna impress a guy self), I was in a room with die hard Giants fans. So clearly I chose to root for the Patriots ;) Just kidding, just kidding, I was all Giants. The energy in the room was intense people. Joe, Meaghan's boyfriend, has the clapping strength of the Hulk (my eyes blinked every time he clapped). And Joe's sister had the smack talk to knock a gangsta from the ghetto flat on their ass. Meaghan was also into the game but chose, like me, to focus more of her attention on food and distracting her boyfriend (i.e. sitting on his lap in fetal position).
As the final moments of the game ticked by, everyone was on the edge of their seat. And when the win came and the confetti fell, well it was a magical moment full of hugs, cheers and fits held high (alright you caught me! I just sat on the couch as if nothing important just happened). And what kind of celebration would it be without champagne? Well folks, it wouldn't.
And on a completely unrelated note, how cute are Meaghans salt and pepper grinders? They're bunnies and you squeeze their ears to dispense. Love!
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