I am out of denial and have accepted that I am going to Oslo on Sunday. My flight leaves at 8:05, which means that yes, I will be missing the Super Bowl. Missing. The. Super. Bowl.
That was hard to type. I'm not a sports person, but it's a genuine American holiday, one that I have celebrated every year of my life. In 2005, the year after the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction (the reason that I have a TiVo, that blessed appliance), I made nipple-slip cupcakes, complete with starburst piercings:
For the last few years, being an advertising critic, the Super Bowl has also been the biggest work day of the year. I may have bitched about the hassle of having to work, but I secretly loved seeing all the ads before everyone else.
But whatever. It's going to suck anyway: