Which city is the best in the United States of America; Pittsburgh or Green Bay? We will soon know.
Perhaps of more importance, Taco and Pepperoni Pizza, Picante Sauce glazed Chicken Wings, deviled eggs, chips and homemade queso (with back-up store-bought queso) and a six pack of yet-to-be-determined.
To me, the SuperBowl is a bad-food vacation day. Perhaps the farewell bad food day of the year since most of them occur during the winter. Thanksgiving, Xmas, New Years (maybe the bad calories are all liquid, but snack trays also) and then for good measure, SBS.
Noelle and I were actually wished a happy SBS by a fellow non-NFL aware person today. It's an official Day.
I used to hate Days at one point. When I was in the Army I started to see weekends as real estate. Just like actual land, they have all been taken by large companies that want to make lots of money. As a person who has always scoffed at novelty, my skin crawls when I see the whole street a-buzz with boyfriends who just washed their car, put on nice clothes, and bought flowers, which at one point was just something you did based off of your interpretations of how shit was going with your relationship, and now is a 1:365 ritual called Valentine's Day.
I'd come home from a week of working out of state for the green machine and find myself pre-disposed to partaking in some bullshit that I was socially more'd into participating in. "I'm thinking about doing some serious snow shoe-ing this weekend. Maybe bringing a .22 and setting up some targets. Do a little biathlon kind of workout." But you can't because it's $*%&$) Day.
Do you know how many times I got to do a biathlon? None. Do you know how that makes me feel? Infuriated with every second that I let it sit in my thoughts. Whatever stopped me from completing my plan's of nordic sports must have been something I really give a fuck about since I quite often have absolutely no recollection of things I do that I really give a fuck about and I can't remember what I did instead of doing a totally awesome nordic gun/snow sport. And now I live in Sunny Texas, so forget it.
How much of our lives do we surrender to routine? Why do we give our weekends as well? They are our days, but some company is waiting around the corner of Friday with a vacuum cleaner for your pockets. It's not their fault, because, well shit, it works. Even in a city as individualistic as Austin whenever something happens you have to get there 4 hours early to actually get in the door. As different as we all are, we roll in reams across the street for the next food trailer festival.
I abandoned the process of getting suckered into doing what other people do by driving 1750 miles away and starting a new life. Now, when I'm not content, it's pretty much all on me for not having chose better.
Time to ride my bike to HEB and determine what kind of beer I'll drink. I'm glad to do so on my own terms.
