Hey, north Texans, have you ever turned the air conditioning on in February?

I don’t remember ever doing so but today–Feb. 1, 2012–I did just that in my car because it was downright toasty when I got into it mid-afternoon. Sauna-like even. No need to think about a coat.

Let’s rewind to last year. According to the National Weather Service, the high temperature for Feb. 2, 2011 was 20 degrees. February of last year had the fifth highest snow totals in Dallas-Fort Worth ever. It was as if we opened the door to welcome Alaska to take up residence here.

And if you’re remember, we were in the national spotlight because Super Bowl XLV had come to town. Yippee. Our turn to show off all we had to offer…football, friendly people, barbecue, Mexican food, museums and lots of bad weather. Nasty stuff. Icy roads. School closings. Sheets of ice literally slid off Cowboys Stadium’s roof, injuring people. http://www.nbcdfw.com/news/health/Man-Still-Affected-By-Injury-From-Cowboys-Stadium-Ice-138618459.html

What  a difference a year makes.

So after two weeks of  cooking, cleaning up, cooking, cleaning up, cooking, cleaning up…I’m d-o-n-e.

The holidays are fun. Love seeing my family. Love relaxing. Love the decorations. Love the music. I even love all that food. That food that I’ve cooked and cleaned up over and over.

But this little red hen has had enough. I’ve made breakfast casseroles galore. I’ve marinated meat in special sauces. I’ve bought wine by the case. And I’ve run out of dish-washing detergent.

So when these BCS football bowl games ( http://www.bcsfootball.org/) have extended into 2012 for days and days, I want to protest. Who thought we needed to keep up this celebration mode for weeks on end? Seems like an excuse for the chips, dips, cakes, cookies, malt liquor and champagne to remain on constant display. Dare I say it was a man who has yet to fix his own Frito chili pie?

Lately I spend most of my days thinking cool thoughts.

All day I loll about my air conditioned headquarters dreaming of things such as ice cubes, swimming pools, blizzards, the North Pole and the like. That is, I conjure such notions in between sticking my head in the freezer.

Have I mentioned it’s hot?

Anyway, I broke myself away from such pursuits just yesterday and ventured out to the grocery store. As I entered in search of ice cream and Gatorade, I stopped in my tracks. There in front of me rising out of the floral displays were shiny metal pumpkins.

And then, I’m near breathless with excitement as I tell you this, I read in the local newspaper (yes, I still subscribe but read it only when Prince Charming shall fetch it for me off the near blazing concrete driveway) that Big Tex will be sporting a new shirt at the fair. Why you can literally count down the days till the state fair here: www.bigtex.com.

And…I need smelling salts as I recall this tidbit of information for you…football two-a-days have begun. Oh let me get my Sooner gear ready.

So, dear readers, let us try to keep from hyperventilating, but some people, lots of people evidently, believe we will have a fall season. Jubilation and hallelujah! Tomorrow I shall contemplate anew, this time about falling leaves, bobbing for apples, homecoming and Halloween.

I do love football, especially the OU Sooners, but I have nothing against Southern Methodist University’s ponies.

Ponies–that is what you call those Mustangs, right? Anyway, I could have been an SMU fan, because I was accepted and everything, but…I digress. The other evening I found myself chatting with SMU royalty, but being a Sooner, I didn’t even realize it.

I just want you to know that I spent a long time visiting with the oh-so-nice Lance McIlhenny at a reception, and only when the organizer of the soiree ask how long he was he able to stay, did I learn he was an honored guest. Yes, the polite, mild-mannered guest once tore up the Cotton Bowl and is the winningest quarterback in SMU history. Well, I declare.

Anyway, we met at City Cafe (www.thecitycafedallas.com) , where Karim Alaoui, one of my boyfriends holds court (bonjour, mon ami), to celebrate dallas author Gene Wilson’s new book, Kings of the HIlltop. (http://www.thewilsoncompany.com/gene_wilson_books.html)  As we sipped wine and some vodka-concoction called “Pony-something,” Wilson autographed the book dedicated to SMU football and its quarterbacks. I didn’t get to read the book yet–the line was long to get your autographed copy–but evidently Mr. Quarterback Lance is mentioned prominently in the tome.

The book-signing reception benefited Children’s Cancer Fund. Helping children, talking football, sipping wine–score!

Even though it’s really not at all my problem, I’m worried about some of the non-profits.

Several of them are holding major fundraisers at JerryWorld, I mean, Cowboys Stadium in Arlington. Some are banking on the stadium to be a big enough draw that no speaker will be necessary, and that has me wringing my hands for them.

Without really trying very hard, I’ve visited JerryWorld, I mean, Cowboys Stadium three times already. I’ve seen the giant big screen in the sky, shelled out for the high-priced stadium food, test-driven the bathrooms. (The bathrooms, by the way, are just not up to snuff. You can have the biggest TV screen known to mankind, but did they really install those old-fashioned, push-here faucets? No high-tech hands-free type? What MAN decided this? I digress.)

Labor Day, a holiday that should be devoted to swimming one last time and eating too many burgers, marked the day in 2009 that eight high school football teams got the chance to play on Jerry’s new turf. For $15, the merely curious, the true-blue fans and the bored could have spent all day there, wandering from floor to floor while Trojans and Panthers tore up the gridiron. The City of Arlington had its day, too, this summer when those waiting to see what their tax dollars built could get a glimpse inside.

Then there’s the college football opportunities. My beloved Sooners already spent an unfortunate evening there, and Texas A&M will play the Arkansas Razorbacks Oct. 3. And let’s not forget the groupies who will be there to check out U2 Oct. 12.

So if non-profit organizations were counting on the curiosity factor pulling people into their fall fund-raising luncheons, that just worries me. I want the causes to do well, but if you forego a speaker because the new stadium is your magnet, I’m a little anxious about that outcome. But if you were just looking for a new place to try instead of the normal hotel ballroom, then maybe it’ll work out fine.

In the meantime, I’m thinking maybe some major new marketing is in order…or maybe give attendees the chance to use the Cowboy cheerleaders’ bathroom. Let’s see if they’ve got better sinks.

This part of the new stadium might look like a normal football field, but the lobby rivals a four-star hotel.

I do love sports, and I do love a nice hotel.

The best of both worlds, minus the beds, is found at the big, new, fabulous Cowboys Stadium, and I was lucky enough to see it spring into action Friday night. Courtesy of some very generous friends, Prince Charming and I were there for the big opening night of football.

The sports portion of this, since it is the Dallas Cowboys, you might understand, but the hotel part might have you raising an eyebrow. Well, rolling into that place is like strolling into the lobby of some swanky new hotel. It even smells new.

And there are people lined up all over what looks like a hotel lobby, saying hello, welcoming you, showing the way. Much like checking into the Waldorf or something. I do like to be treated like someone was 1. expecting me and 2. glad I showed up.

Then as if it were Sunday brunch at one of those fabu hotels, we got to go into a cloistered area and help ourselves to a beautiful buffet. Lots of Jerry’s people were hustling about making sure trays stayed full, and generally making sure we were well taken care of.

I love that.

Halftime? They roll out a second buffet. As I have to work very hard at being only this fat and not 20 pounds fatter, I only looked at the chili dog spread they had. True football food. Go team. hen I saw an enticing arrangement of large, chewy cookies–just like some of the fancy hotels wave under your nose–I decided it was my duty to try one of those. Okay, two.

Now our very generous friends have seats that are on the 50. Since I am a former high school cheerleader and somewhat of a football fan (Boomer Sooner), I do know that the 50-yard-line is where you want to be sitting. But even if I had not taken Theory of Football at the University of Oklahoma (yes, really did), I would know it was a good seat to be in.

That, my friend, is because Jerry Jones himself was sitting maybe four rows behind us, not in his suite, but above his suite, in his own personal box. Yes, I’m sure he saw me, but since we have never been formely introduced, I did not do the thumbs-up sign to him when the Cowboys scored. I can tell you his tie was a lovely shade of lavender.

Anyway, unlike checking into a fabulous hotel, you may not take what you’d like. I was warned that my handbag could not measure larger than 12 inches by 12 inches. What? I’m showing up at this terrific place, one of the ones who want to see and be seen, and I can’t bring my most fashionable purse?

Well, then, rather than spoil my carefully selected ensemble (cute top, killer shoes and best dark-rinse jeans), I just won’t take a purse then. Harumph.

Carrying my lip gloss is why Prince Charming always has pants with pockets. Right?

Let me go on record as telling you that, in pursuit of my journalism degree, I did receive a passing grade in the upper-level course “Theory of Football.” I promise you this was a class for which I actually did receive credit, and it was not all that easy for those of us who had not played high school football.

Therefore, I can talk about a nickel defense and Sam and Willy linebacker with the best of ‘em. But there is something I simply do not understand. Why, in the name of Barry Switzer, do we throw flags on 21-year-old kids for “excessive celebration” when they score a touchdown in a college football game?

Please, someone, somewhere explain to me why adult fans are allowed to scream like crazy, jump up and down, yet an adrenaline-filled, testosterone-pumped student who just completed a difficult task in front of thousands of screaming, jumping people is to cross a goal line as if he were entering a bank vault? Is there other team such a big bunch of mama’s boys they just can’t take it if the ball carrier gets a little animated?

So, let it be known, that this University of Okahoma, Sooner-Born and Sooner-Bred football fan does not appreciate the University of Texas Longhorn getting a flag thrown on him in the fourth quarter for “unsportsmanlike conduct” when he dove into the end zone at The Fiesta Bowl. Well played, my Big 12 son! I think in the midst of that struggle against The Ohio State University excessive celebration was indeed called for.

And one more thing before Thursday’s national championship football game…BOOMER SOONER!!!!