2003-01-27 - 1:17 a.m.

I just had the best Superbowl Party ever--ever.

The Roommate and I cleaned the entire pad, I did four loads of laundry (mostly extra sheets and blankets, mind you) and we bought (and served) tofu hot dogs (with celery seed), tofu burgers (with cheese, ketchup, mustard, and relish, an onion, and buns), and more than enough cans of Bud.

And chips and Trader Joe's peach salsa, oh so good, y no me llamo Senor Salsa.

I thawed and heated my Dad's chili and meatballs and sausages, which he froze for me in big white plastic foodservice buckets, that I had been saving for this occasion for over a month, tempted nightly.

We didn't need to bust out the big jar of pickles we bought, or the two thingies of cookie dough, or the Hanover's honey mustard pretzel bits.

The Roommate, myself, and the Superbowl XXXVII helium balloon we bought had a really good time watching the big game and listening to busses pass by the windows of our Cosby Brownstone.

Yup.

We threw a party and nobody came.

Yup.

Nobody.

What kinda clich� is that? And I gotta figure, for every day of the year, with six-plus-billion people living on the surface of this planet, there�s gotta be one freak for each of those 365.25 days a year that hosts a party sans guests. Today it was me. I feel kinda special, like I hit the lottery, but in a bad way.

OK--it�s not really that bad. I invited as many people as fingers on my left hand (or right hand--pick one), and I guess that someone who throws lotsa parties had a little gathering at her place at the same time as mine, so it didn�t really bother me all that much.

Oh, and nobody coming is at least better than one awkward dude showing up, and staying for hours. I didn't invite whoever that dude would have been, but still.

But still, I mean I couldn�t help but raise the ol� maybe everyone really does hate me pike. I mean, you throw a party and nobody comes and that thought doesn�t cross yer mind, you got the gentlemen clad in white coats coming for you. (Do they really wear white coats? Like, is it a law?)

The place is totally clean right now, I reassuringly said to myself everytime I heard a car honk outside my window, and nobody came down to mess it up, I thought as I ran to the window each time, hoping to catch a glimpse of a friend heading towards my place, and we still have all that food.

So I just checked up on the fridge, which despite appearances has been giving us some major problems.

Dead.

Oh yeah. The Roommate and I just had a frickin feast--everything that could go bad is in our bellies now, or crammed into the tiny and stickered mini-fridge in my room (a gift from my grandparents before I started college). I�m soooo bloated, and I�m gonna finish watchin� the Sports Guy�s new show.