1. I am in Sweden.
a. No one else cares about American football, and it's not like I care enough to watch the game myself.
b. The Super Bowl will start when I'm going to bed; my Scandinavian Studies course is way more important than football*.
2. I really could not care less about sports, and am only in it for the party foods and friend time.
3. Despite trying to combat harmful stereotypes, I'm always that person at the Super Bowl party who's like "Ooooh, did they just make a goal? Why did they get two points? Did they just come really close to getting a field goal?"
4. I feel that athletes are given an unbelievable amount of privilege for their ability to, I don't know, run quickly and catch well? Between the Packers and the Steelers, this year's Super Bowl lineup has eight alleged rapists and those accused of sexual assault. Rah rah rah? Sorry, I just can't make myself get excited about the glorification of athletes. I won't rant about it too much here, but shoot me a line if you want to get into it.
Anyways, Jezebel had a great article about alternative activities for this fine Sunday evening. I've already indulged in quite a few:
1. Go to the gym and fiddle around with the weight machines.
All of the really beefy brodudes who usually grunt and groan all over the side of the gym not dotted with ellipticals are watching the game tonight. If you're intimidated by the typical sexual divide and don't want to embarrass yourself in front of the testosterone-engorged triceps that normally camp by the free weights, head to the gym and lord over the weight room. Familiarize yourself with what machines you like, which weight levels are comfortable, and so next time, you can strut around like you own the place. Judgey looks be damned!
5. Watch the Puppy Bowl.
What she said. Duh.
7. Cook something crazy.
You have all evening to whip up something you've never whipped up before, and if you make a mistake, blame Aaron Rodgers.
*Although, when I wake up there will be a new episode of Glee to watch! Gleeking out!