GHD is as much apart of me as the burns on my forearms from trials and tribulations in the kitchen. War wounds that I look upon as reminders of being younger, more naive.
If someone mentions GHD, the day, the film, the feeling, I smile and know that I can answer any and all questions.
This past GHD was treated much like a second birthday, postings on my facebook wall wishing me a happy groundhogs day. Some very close friends found a man in a groundhog suit and had a photo taken with him holding a sign wishing me a happy groundhogs day.
The superbowl wasn't GHD free, Punxsutawney Polamalu being featured in an esteemed superbowl commercial. (side note HUGE fan of the superbowl results this year...Manning Face).
My opponent and I have also discussed our respectful pilgrimages:
His to the swedish shoreline to drink milk and eat strawberries (sounds like heaven, irony implied?).
I, on the other hand, head to Punxsutawney, Penn for the actual GHD festivities (it's been compared to Mardi Gras) followed by a trip to Woodstock Illnois to eat angelfood cake and heavenly sticky buns despite the fact that the Clocks diner is now a Starbucks (woodstock is the actual location of where the movie was filmed). This trip through the midwest, though fun, would be less exotic than Nils' journey to Scandinavia. Bastard.