When Lawrence Tynes kicked the game-winning field goal to secure the Giants' trip to Super Bowl XLVl, I began to wonder, "Where am I going to watch the Super Bowl this year?"
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with worry just thinking of the annoyances I will have to put up with Sunday -- all in the name of football.
With just as much focus on the food, commercials and halftime acts as the game, Super Bowl Sunday has evolved into a social event. For those like me who actually want to watch the game, it's a bittersweet time.
I love the camaraderie of a Super Bowl party but can do without the annoyances of the gathering. Here are some things I'm not looking forward to this Super Bowl Sunday.
• Overtly racy commercials. It's no shocker that Go Daddy's Super Bowl commercials will use sex to sell their popular web product. The annoying part is the degree to which they'll go to do so. Leaked previews of the commercials show three Pussycat Dolls in lingerie peddling product while floating on clouds in what is supposed to be computer geek heaven. The second Go Daddy spot features a fully clothed Danica Patrick and Jillian Michaels painting a naked model with the Go Daddy logo.
Watching these commercials in a room full of men, one of whom I'm probably crushing on, is pretty uncomfortable for me. I feel like they are undressing me with their eyes while thinking, "I wonder if Adena sits on puffy clouds wearing lingerie" or something similar. The commercials bring sex into my Super Bowl Sunday, and I don't want that. Can't a lady go one day without feeling objectified?
• Those who know nothing about football. I'm not saying you have to be a pigskin genius like our very own Melissa Jacobs. But please do not interrupt my Super Bowl viewing with asinine questions like "Is Tom Brady still dating Tara Reid?" No, and who cares?
• People asking me to help in the kitchen. During a football game, all thoughts of my no-carb, no-fun diet go out the window. (I think I read somewhere that calories on Super Bowl Sunday don't count.) Therefore, when I come to your home to watch the game, please have the food ready. Do not start defrosting the chicken wings in the first quarter and ask me to season them at halftime. This type of unpreparedness is good for no one.
When the wings are finally done, my team might be fading, along with my appetite. Besides, if I'd wanted to get my hands dirty in the kitchen, I would have stayed home. Cooking isn't in my playbook on Super Sunday -- or Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… you get the point.
• Your bad kids. Is this a grown-up house or Chuck E. Cheese's? There's no reason why I have to endure being kicked in the shins by your misbehaving offspring while I watch the game. Please restrain your wildlife, I mean kids, while I'm watching the game.
• Bringing a dish. As previously mentioned, I'm no domestic goddess. Therefore, asking me to bring a plate to your party is a futile request. I wasn't raised by wolves, so I do know it's polite to bring a dish to someone's house, but mine won't be anything to write home about.
Kudos to the woman who brings her famous honey barbecue meatloaf. Secretly I'm hating on her cooking skills as I lug in a $9.99 lemon loaf cake I purchased on the way to the party. And yes, I left the price tag on.
Sue me. Then pass me the remote. It's football time.