It's three o'clock on a weekday, the regular crowd rushes in . . .

"Amelia, you screwball! She's gonna die. She won't die but she'll get really hurt . . . You dingaling."

No cause for alarm here -- it's just another day in the life of Jennifer Camberg (sophomore-English), a regular soap opera watcher.

Days of Our Lives has captured the attention of a dozen other women as well on this recent afternoon in the TV lounge on the fourth floor of Simmons Hall. Some sit in straightback chairs. Others slump on couches, feet propped and crossed on the seat in front. One woman with a notebook and text sprawled across her lap studies for a test.

Camberg says she watches soaps "for fun, as a break from classes."

She adds with a giggle that Days was not the farthest thing from her mind when she was filling out her academic schedule form.

"Soaps are really unrealistic -- you need that," she says.

But then again, they try.

"There's this girl with an alcohol problem and she doesn't want to admit it," Camberg says of a recent "serious" story line. "Her boyfriend wants her to go to AA. He really loves her and doesn't want her to ruin her life."

It gets even better.

Pointing to a worried-looking couple on the screen, Camberg explains, "She found out her husband is an MIA and wants to find him. But she's engaged to that guy."

"You know how stupid it is, you just watch it anyway," says Shazia Ansari (junior-business), when asked why she dedicates about 12 hours a week to the daytime dilemmas. "It's a story that never ends, and you never get tired of it."

Chris Spearing (sophomore-hotel, restaurant and institutional management) slouches beside Ansari on the sofa in the dimly-lit lounge on the ground floor of Simmons. The room is hushed, except for an occasional titter or mumble of disgust directed at a character's bad move.

"It's fun watching other people's lives. If you've watched for awhile, you could probably give a speech about what's going on," Spearing says.

"Some people you can laugh at," says Ansari, pointing to a blond woman on the screen. "Like, she's pathetic."

As the credits roll, accompanied by the sobering solo piano theme to Young and the Restless, Spearing recalls when some soapmates watched a show religiously, waiting for only one thing.

"These two girls would sit up front every day, saying, 'When are they gonna kiss? When are they gonna kiss?' "

So, where are the guys?

"I've heard guys in Hartranft (Hall) watch soaps," says Spearing.

Peeking into the TV room of the nearby all-male dorm reveals a lone viewer -- of basketball.

The search for the elusive male soap-watcher leads to East Halls.

Ed Hales (junior-communications) sits by himself in front of the Packer Hall TV, watching the news. "Yeah, sometimes I see guys sitting down here watching (soaps)," he says, counting himself out.

If Michele Rossman (freshman-liberal arts) had one life to live, it would be as a soap fiend. She's not the only one.

"When General Hospital is on, this place is packed," says the Brumbaugh resident, of the TV room in Fisher Hall, which seats about 80.

"Soaps are so ridiculous, it's fun," she says. "People will come back as a dead person's 'twin.' Or someone will appear and say, 'Did you know I was your daughter?' It's like an addiction. You're like, 'I've gotta watch it tomorrow, see what happens.' "

A woman walks into the room, puts down her bookbag and says, "Ahh! What's happening? How did she react when she saw him?"

"She ignored him," Rossman replies.

"Oh. Did he find out?"

"I didn't know a lot of people in my hall before I started watching," says Rossman. She motions to the woman, Kristin Klapkowski (sophomore-liberal arts). "She lives two doors down. We saw each other in the bathroom, maybe four times. Now we're like, 'Hiiii!' "

Regular soap-watching is "good for making friends," says Klapkowski. "You can always say, 'Did you see General today?"