You're jealous.

So that's the end of you're jealous. It served the purpose of keeping in touch with people at home while I was in new orleans, so I'm done with it. Catch you on the flip side.

It seems as though the non-blogging disease Mary has is contagious. It's seems as though I never find the time or what to blog about anymore. I bet attending classes all the time is one of the factors, but that's not the point. During spring break I had two crew practices a week and it seems as though I'm tired all the time. This growing thing is making me narcoleptic, and none of my clothes fit me anymore. Sometimes I question if I want to be tall anymore.

Every teacher has decided the week and a half between spring break and eater break is the perfect time to pile on the work. They've all decided that of course I should teach myself the material I missed for their test...all of them. I haven't even gotten the chance to read my Rolling Stone that came a whole two days ago. That's right, two days I can barely handle it. I've decided I haven't been broadening my horizons enough in terms of music. I've decided to listen to something now every week. Last week it was a new band, hellogoodbye. This week, I've been listening to the Velvet Underground. What's next? You tell me.

My title is back by popular demand.

The other day, while hanging around Helen's office, being hungry and bored I was thinking, "What if I had an electrical socket instead of a belly button?" I mean how awesome would that be? Other than producing your own food, what more could you want in life? Everyone in the office agreed that if everyone had electrical sockets instead of belly buttons thing would be much better. World peace would go way up. Although you'd be using so much power you would need to eat more. I think if I had 5 meals a day instead of three my peace would go way up too. This socket idea is definitely a good thing.

I spent my weekend painting. Paint looks much more fun on TV than it is in real life. Also they never show the taping process on TV, which is totally the worst part. You can check pictures on the title. I decided not to volunteer on Sunday for that reason.

With a total of three blogs between the family and three drop-out bloggers, I've decided we should start a family blog. Congratulations to Anne for not pretending like she would be the ultimate blogger. Everyone in the family could post on the family blog and they don't feel the obligation to update every week. Not only that it would be easier and less obnoxious than emailing. You can get this whole package plus we'll throw in free comments, and some links for the low low price of three easy payments of 29.99, or free, your choice.

P.S. Helen, the old lady has officially invested in a condominium. Too bad it's not in Naples, FL.

I'm thinking I should change the title back. A couple more days in the hallway and I will. So whose friends rock? What you say yours, Wrong! Mine! Actually I should rephrase, Allison rocks. And her mom rocks too. Not only did Allison spend two days making me two giant containers of cookies, she and her mom also made some awesome seven layer dip, both of which I got to take home. I also should give a shout-out to Jonathan for having the party.

So why so many cookies? Because, here's the bit where you get crazy envious and go on a cookie rampage to make up for your sad sad life, MY FRIENDS THREW ME A SURPRISE COOKIE PARTY! So many cookies so little time. In fact I ate so many in the beginning I had to stop because my stomach hurt. Chocolate chip, sugar, oatmeal raisin, sugar, white chocolate Macadamia, and gingerbread. There were so many cookies that I only had 3 baby pieces of pizza. I also played Dance Dance for the first time, and met a bunch of people. Even though I found out and it wasn't a surprise we still got some good surprised pictures and everyone still shouted surprise even if I could see them. To top off an awesome night, Allison, Sarah and I pulled an all-nighter. They made it to around 6 and I stayed up until 6:15 to get some quality pictures of them sleeping and to see it light outside. We played cards, Perfection, saw some grody movies online and sat around and laughed at each other for awhile.

Also it's official I can't handle unlocking doors or carrying keys. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do when I go to college but I'll be sure a couple of people have spare keys. I went running and forgot to unlock the door. I got a good hour and a half of thinking time in. And then I tried picking the lock but the plastic thing broke off and got stuck in the door. Luckily, Mrs. Manthey came to the rescue. Eventually we got in and I got ready for the cookie party.

I think it's official, I'm hugaphobic. I'll admit I do like a nice hug every so often, and some people are extremely hugable and it's hard to resist, but naturally I'm not a big fan of the whole hugging thing. I'll hug you if we're related or if you're a good friends but it creeps me out when people I've talked to once or twice give me a hug. Sometimes I want to ask them, "do I know you?" I guess I'm more of a wave kind of girl.

This is all became to clear to me when I got to New Orleans because I didn't know a lot of people. Some people the first time I met them gave me a hug. Does anyone else find that weird? At this point I've known a lot of people for two months and have become hugably close to them that if they gave me a hug I wouldn't freak. I don't know if I'm totally hugaphobic, but I'm a very choosy hugger. Nothing too tight, I don't like it when people give you the pat, and a good squeeze is nice, but if I don't know you take a step back.

As Helen pointed out most recently on her blog, it seems that the human race thirsts for drama. The one time I write a long, boring entry that seems to drag on, everyone has something to say. People, tell me, does my funniness bore you? Maybe I'm the only one who doesn't like to read dramatic or unfunny things. Now maybe you don't know, but I have a rule about books. It's pretty simple. I only read funny ones. Do you lavish a good overly dramatic romance?

People, you had 9 (the PR) comments?! Where are you when I blog every other day? Hiding under a rock with a trashy romance novel? Now I've been contemplating deep thoughts for the past day..and a half and the best reason we could come up with on why you don't comment on my blog is....YOU FEEL INTIMIDATED. True or False? Correct the statement if it's false. Does my funniness scare you? Do you feel the need to have a funny comment? Would the words, "hah. Good one Jane." sum up your thoughts? Or do you just have nothing to say...always! I blog an awful lot, and Helen and I have decided it's not as much fun or encouraging when no one comments. How do I know if you read my blog if you didn't comment? Now I know I'm asking a lot of you. Feedback AND there's no drama. Shoot what will you do?