As ashamed as I probably should be to admit it (do they revoke emo credentials? Is there an agency somewhere keeping tabs, making charts and graphs and annual reports? Will they come for my hair styling products?), I really enjoyed the Super Bowl. I love rooting for the underdog, and, as the girl whose house we were hanging out in clutched her bible to her chest, weeping while Captain Handsome and the Patriots struggled in vain to recover in the final seconds, I felt a real, albeit vicarious thrill.
Katie said, "pick a side, it'll be more fun." I walked into the night, roman candles bursting in the air over the brooklyn skyline, happier than I'd been in weeks, and thinking how wonderful it was to struggle, even if you think you're beat, and how fun it is to win, when everyone (maybe even, in your secret heart-of-hearts, you) thinks you're gonna lose.
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