Sick as a dog.
Hating it.
But Facebook is so freakin' tite!
Almost makes being cooped up worth it.

Yet another strange part of American culture I will never understand: when grown adults end phone conversations by saying "Hmm hmm bye."

Maybe I'm overreacting, but it drives me crazy! You've surely heard it done, maybe you're even an offender yourself. Housewives and cheerleaders maybe, but it's really weird when your brother's soccer coach says it. Or your best friend's dad--the last time that happened I was so thrown off by the fact that a 40-year old man would giggle before ending the call that in my disorientated state I called out, "I love you!"

. . . and then hung up. Can you say AWKWARD?!?!


Unfortunately, there's nothing being done to stop the madness. Even my poor, impressionable baby brother, Peter, has fallen prey to this evil. And he's not even two years old! But Peter does it a little differently: he picks up the phone, smashes his face into it, and shouts, "Bye! Hahaha HAHA!" before slamming it down. Oh the places he'll go. . .

Well, last year I watched 2/3rds of a Superbowl. This year I sat through the whole freaking thing! I deserve much praise, my friends, for this incredible feat of endurance. I'm trying to come up with reasons for my inborn aversion to football which, I believe, began with my birth:

• I was born on Superbowl Sunday, 1991, in Colorado. The Doctor was relieved I came so quickly because he immediately left after deliver to go watch the Broncos play; my relatives waited until after the game to see the newborn. (Priorities, eh?)
• Despite my friends Dustin, Kyle and John's best efforts, I've never totally understood the game. That never really mattered though, since all the highschool football games I've gone to have been spent finding friends all through the stands.
• Like the majority of Americans (58%), I watch for the commercials, and/or the halftime show. This year was a letdown--Prince?!? Who's idea was that--and with a few exceptions, the commercials weren't worth 3 hours of huge men wearing shiny, tight pants running into each other.

I used to think those football players had really small heads. Then somebody told me that it only looked like that because of their large shoulder pads. I still think they have really small brains, though.