Yesterday was the Super Bowl and although I ate my own body weight in wings and seven-layer-dip I refused to engage in that tempting brew of alcohol. It was... well, it just changed things, I suppose. The Super Bowl is often an all day drinkathon - which, given that I was to be up and on the 6.43 from Providence to Penn this morning, it's probably a good thing it was not. Instead, we went snowshoeing (which, by the way, is extremely hard work), cooked and ate but didn't go bonkers. It was fine, but it's always disappointing to find you've bought some lovely healthy looking lemon-flavoured seltzer watery type thing, all very European looking and sparkly and fresh, only to discover it contains more sugar than booze. So again this month may feature a lot of moaning about the alternatives to alcoholic beverages. I apologise in advance.
On the other hand, I thought it was a pretty good match last night, although I was increasingly stressed at and concerned by the Steelers' seemingly inevitable comeback last night. More power to you, Mr. Rodgers, I thought it was a thoroughly deserved MVP award and you were rather good.