I love watching people talk on the phone for long periods of time.

Seriously have you ever watched this? Or noticed it yourself? 99 out of 100 people will get bored of just talking into a piece of plastic after 5 or 10 minutes so they'll start finding other things to do while they talk so as to be more occupied. But you have to find something that's pretty silent. Maybe it's because you start to feel weird that you don't actually have someone's face to be looking at as you talk to them. I dunno.

My mom often will start coloring in squares until she has a cool design on the pad of graph paper that is usually by the phone. Me, I usually end up wandering up to my bedroom and bonking the rope that hangs from the ceiling with my head or standing on my balance board.

Other people will tie themselves up with the phone cord or contort into the weirdest positions. The other day I walked into our room in my apartment to find that my cousin was on the phone with her boyfriend. I gathered that they had been talking for a while because she was stretched out and all twisted up, taking as much space on both the bed and the chair by the bed as she could.

What weird things do you guys do when you're talking on the phone?

For any of you who may have looked at the hambot blog and despaired because of the emptiness thereof,

Despair no longer! It is pretty much all the way up to date now! Even has my brother's shoes that I finally finished(his birthday was May 5th). I recommend viewing them, they're pretty cool. Luckily he's barely taken them off since he got them so I think that means they were worth the wait.

A little background music would be nice.

Sometimes I feel like my life is a movie. Different kinds of movies, depending on the day.

Sometimes I feel like it would be handy if my life actually was a movie. I like to think it would be a "something for everybody" kind of a movie.

See, if my life were a movie, there would be background music. I mean, I guess there wouldn't necessarily be music in the boring parts, but in the interesting parts there would be so I would know when to pay special attention. For instance, I'd know when I needed to be paying attention because if my foot twitches a little I could eat my weight's worth in snow as I slid to a stop. Well, I'd probably already be so focused that I wouldn't notice.

But what about romantic music so I would know when I was being swept off my feet? But then I guess that's usually pretty obvious too?

And I already know when I'm having a really awesome day. Don't necessarily NEED an awesome song playing as my day goes into awesome montage mode.

I guess maybe I'd settle for having music during the boring and less than satisfying parts of my day.

OKAY NEVER MIND EVERYONE. Might as well keep it the way it is. But hey, I wouldn't mind a greater percentage of the times that don't need music because I already know what they are.

The boiling water tap at my house has facebook...

So for background, my house, specifically the kitchen, has a special little tap that makes steamy water on the spot for you. Very handy for instantly making hot chocolate and also for making top ramen faster. The old one gave up working, and we got a new one.

This morning I was sitting dramatically at the kitchen table, reading the comics. Dramatically. Then, I dramatically heard a noise. A very familiar noise. So familiar it almost seemed dramatic. A little popping noise. Facebook, I thought, as my eyebrows scooched together oh so slightly and dramatically. I then looked around the kitchen to see waht I could see with my dramatic shifting eyes, wondering who could possibly be dramatically browsing the facebook. Wasn't me. I have a good alibi. My computer was sitting up here in Logan where I now am. Finally, I asked my mom, dramatically, if she was hearing that sound. She said it was the tap.

From this I gather three things: 1. My boiling water tap has facebook and 2. I guess it is too cool for me because I am not friends with it. 3. It must have a lot of friends because it was making the facebook noise a lot.

Bonus, dramatic.

My nose has a run and a stuff...

But I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue! Seriously though, this is what I like to call the finals flu.

Anyways, Has anyone ever noticed how the Jif commercials are growing up right along with us? I remember when I was little and they all had little kids in them. Like the one where the two brothers want a sandwich but they only have one slice of bread so the mom puts peanut butter on it then she makes one cut it and the other pick. I dunno, there were a lot of them.

Today, I saw one with this girl sitting in her dorm. She gets a package and opens it and suddenly there is a jar of peanut butter in it! She gets so excited and calls her mom to thank her enthusiastically for it. Then she eats a spoonful of it.

I never saw a jif commercial with a college kid till I was in college. THIS IS SPOOKY. THEY HAVE BEEN WATCHING ME GROW UP. They probably didn't even have commercials until I was 3.

My favorite smells are so weird.

I was reading someone's post the other day before I romped off to class, might have been Jocelyn's? Whoever. She said she liked the smell of the laundry aisle, which made me think of how I love the smell of leaving my window open in the spring because the laundry room is right next to my room so the blower of warm smelling laundry air is by my window.

As I went off on my jaunty way to class, I started to ponder what my other favorite smells were, after all, Jocelyn has 4 of them. (I just checked. It was her.) So as I walked along campus, I thought about smells. And I actually smelled two that I really liked!

First, I'm standing on the corner. Waiting to cross the street. A bus was there, waiting to cross the intersection. He got to go first. As he started moving, yes, he was a boy bus, he vomited forth some nasty pollution. I happened to inhale at that time, and I felt so happy.

Because, it reminds me of elementary school when we would go up to Snowbird every Friday after school with the ski program. Then, at 3:30 or something when we were being finished, we would stand in the parking lot waiting for everyone to trickle back off the hill among a fleet of busses. Which were vomiting out pollution. Happy association.

Then, I was walking past a piece of new pavement that they worker guys were putting some kind of stuff on that I guess makes it more shiny? I dunno. Smelled kinda like turpentine. Again, happy. I stood there and smelled for a minute.

Because, in the graphics lab you tend to use a crap ton of "solvent" when you clean up anything that has to do with ink. Smells great to me, I spent months of my life in that room with that smell.

And thus we see that I have a dangerous taste in favorite smells.

Remember the red room?

Let me set the scene. It takes place in a middle school close to my home but not close to my heart. Scads of awkward young teenagers are sitting in rows on the floor. White t-shirts with names scrawled on plus red shorts, except that one rebellious kid wearing tarheels blue. Not a one of these kids is feelin' all that hot, except that one boy who keeps faking people out like he's gonna jump on their heads.

The teacher, who looks a little like a female body builder, comes out and says the one thing that could make the class happy. "Today we're gonna be in the red room." She brings out this ball. It's pink. And like 3 feet in diameter. And resembles a volleyball. Crab soccer. Everyone spends the rest of the period crab walking around this nasty nasty foam mat kicking this ball/ each other.

I wondered even at the time why this was so fun.