I think I'm doing it wrong

Tomorrow we are hosting a Super Bowl party for a bunch of our friends, and while I am excited because it should be fun, I'm also somewhat irrationally nervous.

"But why Sarah, it's just a Super Bowl party, what's to be worried about?", you may ask.

Because I've never hosted a Super Bowl party, for one. I've only ever been the guest.

And for two, because I'm not sure how to... Super Bowl.

(Yes, I made it a verb. Go with it.)

I'm a chick. I watch the Super Bowl for the commercials. The little men in the tight pants running around jumping on each other? Superfluous, in my opinion.

(Sorry, bro)

Clearly, I'm missing some enigmatic plot point or something, because my idea of Super Bowl food is crudités and other assorted light appetizers, followed by a fresh, healthy meal.

(Yes, yes, laugh it up)

Our actual menu?

A bunch of artery-clogging crap.

Jalapeño poppers, deep fried mozzarella sticks, cheese fries, pizza, and, of course, enough buffalo chicken wings to feed, well, a football team. There will also be chips and salsa and beer, natch.

Being the stubborn girly-girl that I am, I am insisting on making a vegetarian chili so that we have something with actual substance and nutritive value. I'm also making some sweet and spicy roasted almonds, and a sun dried tomato, garlic, and herb crostini.

Because I couldn't resist chick-i-fying Super Bowl Sunday, the manliest day of the year.

See, this is why I'm concerned. I think I broke the Super Bowl....