As Promised

So I'm sitting here in one of the classrooms at MAK, having taken the advice of a fellow blogger. There are no computer labs open on Saturday, apparantly, so this will have to do. Nothing to complain about except for the tour groups that keep coming by. All the wee high-schoolers keep staring at me like I'm a featured exhibit or something. Which is a nice lead-in to the first item in this sequel list of college experiences:

• These people are BIG on tours. There's tours connected with everything. So far I have been on 3 general tours of the campus, 2 tours of the Art building, and 1 tour of the Language lab. This is not counting the self-guided walking tours of the Mak building and LSH. My brother just had his first tour last week, in connection with good 'ol TCTC. So, as you can see, tourism is a big industry here. Some (loosely estimated) 10% of all working students work as tour guides for the college. (No less than 5 seperate tours have passed by in the past hour.)
• The computers, although admittedly several steps above any school-related computers I've ever used, have their idiosyncracies. When I try to log into my e-mail account in HH or Manutoo? I will type my login name then tab down to the password where I get three letters in and it bounces back up to the login blank. Very annoying. In HH the messenger icon is actually a "Research" link. Also, they don't seem to encourage using messenger, because you usually have to go through a bunch of hoops to get the sign-in link to work.
• Flash Drives... wonderful little pieces of technology with an incredible potential to get lost. Imagine the fright of me as I check my e-mail yesterday and get this startling e-mail- Darseylo (notice the misspelling) Someone turned in a Flash Drive that may belong to you..." Sure enough, I had left the silly little thing in stuck in a computer, and some kind stranger (to whom I owe $50 worth of gratitude) turned it in to the techs. Lesson learned.
• Bus rides. *Sardonic laugh.* Actually, I don't find them that bad, except for the highly complex protocol that one has to learn as one goes. I saw the most amazing sunset I've seen in a while coming home on the bus, and it's a great time to catch up on reading or *sigh* homework. If nothing else, there is usually a highly interesting conversation going on somewhere. This week, for example, I learned all about micro-brewing, and the alchoholic content of the different home-brewed beers served at some restaurant in Holland. It was *ahem* informative. And one morning the bus driver lady was feeling perky, and she told us corny jokes the whole way down, none of which I can remember. I've learned a lot about bus ettiquite, and I shall share it with you:

-First, the back doors don't open. You have to push them open. Staring at them and wondering when they will open is not very effective.

-There are times when you can put your backpack on the seat next to you, and times you can't. There are also times when you can put it next to you for a while, then pick it up when you reach the next stop. I am still working hard on figuring this out.

-You don't talk to anyone on the bus unless you know them, almost without exception.

-The Aisan bus driver brakes and accelerates very hard. You are warned.

- If you want to be garunteed a seat don't take 8, 9 or 10 o'clock classes, and don't go home until 8. If you want to be garunteed a place on the bus at all when heading to Allendale of a morning, get on at Pew.

-Chivalry is dead, and all's fair in love, war, and getting bus seats. If you are a girl, don't expect guys to let you get on first, to let you have the seat in a tie, or especially to offer you their seat. If you are a guy, don't worry about letting the girls get on first, giving them the seat in a tie, or offering them your seat. You should, however, always offer your seat to the little (or big) old ladies. That rule is still in effect.

One of my most unique bus experiences happened after I forgot to call my mom to pick me up one night. I got all the way to Pew before I remembered, so I had to wait there awhile. I sat down on the bench, and started to read a book when this tall black guy came walking up, smiled at me, and started a conversation, and he didn't seem to be trying to hit on me. We talked for 20 minutes, and it was pretty cool. Most people won't give you more than one-syllable answers, and that's only if you have a legitimate reason to be talking to them in the first place. It scared my mom, though. :P Actually, the bus stop at Pew is pretty safe- it's well lighted and there are always people there.

• It's a great big world out there for the people-watchers among us, and I get a private smile or two a day from my observations. One of the guys in my Writing class looks and acts like my cousin Jeff- they are both small, have the same faces, this weird "earnestness" when they talk. The kicker? They both are named Jeff. The only big difference is that Writing class Jeff has a very long and girly pair of eyelashes.
• The Writing Lab is a struggling Writing 150 student's paradise. They have free coffee, Kleenex's, hand sanitizer, pens and candy. Plus, they are very nice about your writing, and really do give you great suggestions. A very comfortable, homey kind of environment.
• You keep noticing the same people in different places. I've seen at least 2 kids from my transitions class more than once, and I can't seem to go anywhere without seeing the Language Lab tech. (He is a true computer tech- has a full beard, neuteral plaid shirts, khakis and glasses.) I've seen him on the bus twice, in the lab (of course), getting pizza...
• The pizza isn't that bad, and for less than $3 it's about all my cheap self can afford to eat there, along with soup and grilled cheese. So that's lunch, 2 times a week.
• You learn how to go for long periods with little to no food. I'm only just starting to get hungry now at 1:30, and all I've had to tide me over is 2 cookies on this morning's field trip. Which was cool, but not really something to blog about, except that it pulled me out of bed at 5 in the morning on a Saturday.

But now, I can go home. There is a bus arriving at 1:40, and I must needs get on that bus or languish here for yet another hour. Fare thee well, dear readers.