Welcome to the Super Bowl

It's Super Bowl week 'round these parts. It happens to be in Arlington, A-town, Arling-fun...the 'burb where I spent my childhood. That's where Jerry World is located and home of the Cowboys. I admit, I'm not the biggest Cowboys fan, nor am I the biggest NFL fan. I'm more of a college ball kinda girl.

But, this is the biggest deal going during this time of the year. You'd have to live under a rock to not know the hub-bub that comes with the Super Bowl. The parties are fabulous, the commericals are outrageous and the fanfare is outlandish. It's the Oscars of sports.

Since the Super Bowl is being held here this year, it's hard to miss the excitement. There are parties and fundraisers and concerts and ESPN crews camped out all week. It's nuts! The ice and terrible weather have made it a bit of an obstacle, but it hasn't seemed to slow anyone down. I will say, I'm secretly glad I am no longer in corporate event planning. Sounds like an event planner's nightmare. Because no matter what the weather, the show must go on. Read: no sleep, tears, livin on Starbucks, back-up plans and headaches.

I assumed I would see all the fun on tv and not make it to any actual party and certainly not the game. But, The Chief called yesterday and said to get dressed we had been invited to a former player's house for a fundraiser. Whaaaa?
My first thought was, "what the hell am I going to wear?" That really didn't matter. We were going to stick out like sore thumbs among this crowd no matter what we wore. That's for sure.

So we loaded up and headed north.

I've heard about this house, but was on the edge of my seat to see it with my own two eyes. It's reported to be some 33,000 square feet. I believe it.


The party was held in the wing where the arcade, bowling alley, theater, gym, barber shop, in-door pool, massage room and basketball court are located. I threw in a mad game of ski-ball while I was there. Yep, sure did. First time with a glass of wine in hand.

They had the indoor court piped and draped and it looked more like a ballroom than a ball-court. Turns out it was a sit-down dinner. If you know me, you know I can't spot famous people to save my life. I could be sitting next to Britney Spears on an airplane, and I probably would never know. That's a long shot because I'd never be sitting next to Britney and if I was, I'd probably recognize her, but you get my point.

There is something about the rich and famous. They have a different look about them. They carry themselves differently. They're pristine. Well thought-out and perfectly prepped.

During the evening I could recognize a player, but didn't know exactly who it was. Then I spotted some serious spiced, leopard print (or maybe actual leopard, who knows!) shoes on a tall, thin black man. Sparkly white teeth. It screamed something like a wide receiver. I asked The Chief to whom the host was speaking. It was the athlete that has turned his name into a Spanish number. That is crazy. And this was crazy. I could hardly close my mouth. He was RIGHT. THERE. and beautiful! Truly, very beautiful.

Unlike any party I've ever been to before, we had to sign a waiver upon arrival indicating no pictures would be taken and essentially, crazy bloggers like me wouldn't use names or stories from the evening. Damn. If this wasn't a client of Clint's and he wouldn't be mortified if I was caught snapping some photos with my phone, I sooooo would have done it. But, not the case, so we just floated along in amazement of all this craziness. Sports casters, coaches and players in a room to donate to kids. It was pretty cool. I'm sure our donation was among the highest, as I sat in my BCBG Shoes and satin top from The Limited. But hey, it was fun to see.

And so the Super Bowl weekend continues with parties hosted by Maxim, Hugh Hefner, Snoop Dog and Bud Lite. I'll be at home with spit-up on my robe, but I got a tiny taste. A teeny, tiny taste. I think I'm coming around on the NFL.