So apparently,...

Apparently, there is such a thing as a midnight scream.
During finals it is socially completely acceptable to to open your window at midnight, stick your head out an yell as loud as you want.
Apparently, the clocks here on campus need re-synchronization...

the current state of SBU collective mind...

Finals are in full swing... matter of fact, I just spent the past two hours copying the exam for the class I'm TAing for. It not only takes longer than you would initially think, it's also more complicated than one would initially think: Two version + a second part that's the same for everyone. Part of it double sided, the other part one sided... and sweet talking the the copier to staple everything.
Which brings me back togetting back.
So, I was wandering down the hallway and just as I passed the laundry room. A girl came out carrying a huge basket of clothes.
Yes, I know you're wondering what this had to do with anything ....
Well, she apparently she decided to clean ALL her clothes. Because all she was wearing was a towel (and a friendly smile).
As I continued down the hallway I had this random picture of her in my mind, diligently studying, dressed in a towel.
At least I like to think she was wearing that towel while she was waiting for her laundry to finish!

My current state of mind

The other day I came home from class and the first thing I did after walking through the door was cook a pot of tea. I tossed the pot lid in the trash, dropped my keys in the pot and tried to pocket the wet tea bags.
That's when I realized the lines in my brain had somehow crossed... I retrieved the keys from my pot and put them in my pocket where they belong... I tossed the tea bags, pulled out the lid and washed it.
Poured a cup of tea and went in my room for some more hardcore studying.

December already?!

After experienceing that the Holiday Season is ON, I decided it was time to experience a real Thanksgiving-adventure of my own. While we had our own Thanksgiving traditions as a family in Germany and we celebrated Thanksgiving on the ship in our own special way... this was my first REAL Thanksgiving.
It's good to know that even at my age there still are firsts.
To cut it short, my Thanksgiving"weekend" was pretty awesome - good friends, good food, good rugby. What more could I want?
I've also gained new insights and knowledge into the American public transport "system". After my first real test of this "system" I feel that I can say with confidence, that the actual problem is that there is no "system" - it's all just VERY confusing. At one point I had figured it all out an developed my Master Plan: Train to NYC, take a bus from there to D.C., meet up with my friends, explore D.C., Metro into Maryland, Car to Frederick. Enjoy Thanksgiving (that part totally went by plan), bus at 0:30 from a town nearby to NYC, subway to Lexington/103rd and walk to Randall's Island for a7s Rugby tournament.
Needless to say, it didn't go exactly by plan. While the minor hiccups such as finding the bus station and the bus being 1/2 hour late probably aren't even worth mentioning - my Friday night/Saturday morning turned into an adventure.
While we didn't have a problem finding the bus stop this time, I discovered that theat paticular bus never runs on a Friday - which is kind of odd considering that I was holding a ticket and reservation for that bus. Nevertheless, once we made it back to the house I found a "good" connection within minutes. The 2:20 in Baltimore. Just as we embarked on our "it's a good thing it should only take us an hour at night because we only have 1:15 minutes to get there"-trip my friend said, "oh I hope we have enough gas"... yeah, it was already pretty much on empty.
I will spare you the detail of how I finally got on that bus... We arrived sometime before 6am in Chinatown, NY. The only problem was that while I had checked out all the maps and stuff and how to get to the subway station from the bus stop I was originally supposed to come into - I know only sort of knew where I was. And unfortunately, the directions the bus driver gave me to the nearest Metro station weren't exactly accurate.
At that point, I asked my inner compass "Which way" and then just headed off in that direction. The funny part is, that somehow I managed to walk straight toward were I was supposed to be heading (I guess wanting to play Rugby heightened all my sense) I reached 1st Ave and 1 Stree E and thought to myself: This is a good thing. This is the right direction, since I need to get to 1st and 103rd to take the footbridge.
Then I thought - wow, I wonder how long 100 block is. Turns out it's about 6 miles. Though I only walked about 80 before I hit the first subway station...
And I crossed that footbridge and stepped onto the field at 7:30 just as planned. And kept my team entertained once they asked me "by the way Shannon, how DID you get here this morning?" And I said: "Oh, I kinda walked from Chinatown..."

Just a thought...

Yes, I'm bilingual and I can flip back and forth quickly.
Yes, I'm also bilingual when it comes to the metric system and other systems used here in the US. I cannot flip back and forth as easily though. I usually do pretty good with feet, inches and miles. Not so good with temperatures.
Which is why when I check the weather I usually am thankful that you can swith from "Fahrenheit" to "Celsius".
Today, I was checking the weather for Saturday's rugby tournament. The site allowed me to switch between "English" and "Metric"
WHAT?!

no good dead goes unpunished...

Have you ever tried to bring groveries home in 6 different grocery bags on a bike?
Even if you haven't - this probably sounds like a frustrating idea at best and a dangerous one at it's worst (who would want their eggs, cereal and whatnot spread across the highway?).
Unfortunately, while this seems obvious to you, my dear reader, at this very moment, you would be surprised how difficult it is for me to explain this concept at the cash register, with some trigger happy bag packer/cashier trying to pack you groceries.
Even though every grocery store encouraged you to go green in some way or the other involving buying bags that can be re-used, they are VERY confused (EVERY time) you bring your own bags and/or state that you would like to pack your own bags. Even when I say - oh, I'm gonna pack it all into backpack, I'm on my bike (*gesture toward helmet in one hand*). It never really makes any sense to them.
So, I quickly resorted to using the self-check out. That way I can pack my own bags. I'm actually quite good at it - but I always mess up when there's somebody standing right behind me tapping their foot. I've even figured out how to deal with the whole you can't put your bag/backpack and/or helmet on the counter because then the machine always tells you need to scan your purchase...
The other day, I was picking up a few stuff on my way back home. Just as I was wandering up to the register a happy, smiling, bubbly woman pulled up in her gorcery cart full of several already scanned and packed bags and being in a happy oh-the-sun-is-shining-and-i'm-riding-my-bike-with-the-wind-in-my-back-mooed (and I suppose also because deep, deep down in the depths of my heart I'm a good person) I said, oh sure, go ahead.
She whizzed through like a pro - and I started scanning my stuff. Out of the corner of my mind I saw her packing up her groceries at the end of the belt and thought to myself, oh, that's odd.
Then just as I was scanning my card, the happy bubbly woman waved at me, pointed at the bags she had so friendly packed for me and said: "Happy Thanksgiving".
Happy Thanksgiving indeed. So thankful for the holiday spirit - you know helping people, accidentally foiling their plans that kind of stuff.
The Holiday Season is on.

The Case of the Missing Tea bag...

Avid readers of "on the road with Pierre and Murphy" may remember several incidents involving food vanishing from the fridge from the kitchen in my old student housing. And how I could tolerate many things - except people taking my cucumbers. And stealing my milk. Back then, there were 28 suspects - the 27 people you lived with and had a key to the kitchen and yourself (the famous - I couldn't have eaten the whole bar of chocolate-phenomena).
Now I live with 5 other people. That definitely limits the pool of suspects should anything vanish from the fridge - actually at least one of them has her own fridge having moved from one of the undergrad dorms that don't have a kitchen. I don't mind if somebody "steals" a sip of my milk for their coffee/tea (by the way, between the five of us we cover every kind of milk from colored what no fat - no milk - no taste as I like to call it, to "real" milk).
I do mind if somebody declares my milk "empty" and throws it out late nigh/early in the morning even though I purposely left juuuust enough milk in there for my breakfast tea. But that's beside the point.

I have had a nagging feeling that somebody, SOMEBODY, somebody you see has secretly been using my sugar. I realize this could fall under the "I can't believe I ate all that chocolate"-phenomena, but the longer this has been going on, the more sure I am getting about it. And nobody else has a sugar pot (or a sugar bag) and everyone drinks tea and/or coffee. I suppose I can live with this... even though at some point the sugar thief should feel bad about it and refill my pot.
I also mind when somebody steals my cocoa. I know this onefor a fact. Because I bought cocoa to bake and then didn't use it for a week and when I went to bake something chocolatey for the firfirst time, somebody had already opened it. Thought it's quite confusing how that person knew it was there... they would have had to work their way through the entire cupboard as it was in the back right corner.
I ran into one of my suit-mates when I came home from practice ones to find her violently stiring her pasta. I made a typical "Shannon-comment" not realizing she was actually violently sitrring - turns out she was a bit upset, because somebody had used up her jar of tomato sauce. I understand, that one might accidently use the wrong jar. I'm the only one who spices her own sauce, everyone else uses the pre-made kind.
Yes, I am getting to the missing tea bag. So there is something weird going on and probably at some point I'll get annoyed enough to figure out what is going on and confront my room mates. But here is what just happened - and I really, really cannot come up with a good way of explaining this one.
I went to the kitchen area to make a cup of tea and prepare a bowl of cereal (preparing a bowl of cereal is an art to itself). According to my usual procedure, while I boiled water I prepared my cereal (except the milk, I don't like soggy cereal), added milk, sugar and a tea bag to my mug and when the water had come to a rolling boil I poured it into my mug. Then, I went to my room to quickly check my email while my tea was steeping.
I got distracted for about 5 minutes and then said to myself: Shannon, you should probably go add milk to your cereal and pull that tea bag out of you mug.
So I went back to the kitchen.
And there no longer was a tea bag in my mug.
I'm serious.
And I KNOW I didn't take it out earlier. I am POSITIVELY SURE about this. I can tell
a) by the color of my tea - it wasn't a very strong tea, and I like my tea strong
b) the tea bag was not in the trash or in my tea bag storage place
c) even I wouldn't have taken out my tea bag and then gone to check my email while I waited for it to steep.
So, really?! Seriously?! Steal somebodies tea bag out of their mug?
I would say somebody is trying to mess with me. But I don't know any of my room mates well enough to have offended them/incited them to start stealing my tea bags. I also don't know any of them well enough for them to start pulling pranks. I think I know them well enough to know they're not the kind of people to pull pranks.
And so for once, I have no plausible theory to explain what's going on...
But I'll come up with something.
I'm sure.

Biiiiiiiiiirdbrains. All of them.

This morning I made it to class just as the lecturer spoke his first word.
I'm never late.
I believe in being on time.
I grew up in a household where when my Dad said we were leaving for our family vacation at 4:30am - we were rolling down the driveway at 4:30am.
I not only believe on being on time - I believe in being prepared to be on time.
My Dad instituted "shoe time" at our household. 10 minutes before we were planning to leave, my Dad yelled: "Shoooooooooooooooooe time" at the bottom of the stairs. That way, we were ready to leave on time.
I make an effort to be on time.
And I take all kind of things into consideration. If class starts at 8:30, I generally make it there two or three minutes early, to settle down, take of my sweatshirt (/shoes in the summer), get out my tea and notebook... and then we'll be ready to go.
So. I calculate for the fact might chain might jump off, I might get stuck behind a school bus, I might forger to pack my tea and need to go back into my room (it is early), trees might have fallen the night before (this has proven to be a regularly occurring incident... a very adventerous one at times), red lights, green lights other lights, surprisingly having to go to the bathroom,... the usual.
But I found out that even though I do account for "traffic issues", it is kinda difficult to account for birdbrains on the loose. Expect the unexpected. And since its unexpected... I can't account for it. Which is why I was late (by my count) for class.
I'm not sure why people think it's a good idea to say a 5minute good bye in the middle of the bike path right on the spot were there is less space anywhere because that's were the stairs and the bus stop and a sign (in the middle of the bike path - honestly, what were they thinking?!) are. Or why people think that walking with four people next to each other across both lanes who can see me coming for several minutes don't feel the need to move. The "oh. right, there's for of us and one of you - if you move, it's not gonna make a difference" expression just isn't funny anymore after a while. I'm starting to feel the need to ask which one of them wants to be hit, because coming to a screeching full stop in front of one of them just isn't scaring them anymore. And why is it, cars don't seem to feel the need to stop at crossways even though there are signs that it's "THE LAW" as soon as they are at on the outskirts of campus? Why is it that early morning (and other time of day) runners insist on running in the middle of the bike path so you can't pass on either side, with their ipod blaring music so loud that all ringing, yelling and flapping of arms will just not get their attention? Why do we not only have the worst bike racks ever on this campus and they are mounted in the worst places ever and it's really, really difficult to lock a bike to them.
And the whole "red lights are optional" thing, as well as the fact that I've come to the conclusion that I'm not actually doing anything wrong when car drivers honk at me. They just don't approve of cyclists.
And so I wonder, how much time should I account for because of birdbrain-ness?

It's all part of my master plan...

Several years ago, when I started university - I realized that I was a few years older than most of the people who were starting with me and there this age difference was visible in certain behaviors and conversation topics. Things like the fact, that I was no longer interested in the fact that my math teacher didn't give me the grade I deserved, not having my parents watching my every move wasn't news etc. and certain other things that fall under what I like to call the Disney Principle.
Disney Principle? Funny you should ask.... back in the day when Disney movies (the cartoon ones) were still good (the classics so to say), if you were a kid, you watched them. You loved them and you talked about them with your friends. Then you get to certain age (teenage give or take) and it's just no longer cool. And once you get through this (yes, I'll openly admit, I never really went through that stage), you start watching them again, and you love them, and you see a completely new side to them, and you openly admit you watch them. At this age you also begin playing with clay again (in class) etc.
Anyway, as I realized that I had reached a certain age. I decided that it was time I was going to start acting my age: No more driving shopping carts across parking lots that go downhill, getting into cars that have come to a rolling stop, wearing shorts and sandals in the snow and all of that.
A few days ago, I was telling somebody about my time in university and some of the stunts we pulled in the lab. And I realized that somehow, my early twenties didn't really work out that way: I came up with the rolling chair through the lab race, I entertained the lab during chemistry labs, explained the bacteria identification methods as: "what's green and yellow and turns pink when you add an acid?" Again, I have decided that it is time to act my age. For real this time.
Sliding down the handrail in the sports complex displaying an excellent and technique, sending most of the girls rugby team into giggling fits and moments of awe? All part of my masterplan.
Rollerblading through the lecture halls? Definitely part of my master plan!
Using the handles on the handbag of the person in front of me during our weekly seminar (the one were all faculty and students are supposed to be there) as "hoops" to shoot pens through?
You got it.
It's all part of my masterplan!

under the weather ... (2)

Yes, the weather. This one actually is about the weather!
I didn't realize how much I take fall for granted until I saw one of my classmates was basically hopping up and down with joy and excitement about how beautiful the trees are.
They are. I took a minute or two to look around and enjoy the fall season... wonderful colors, sunshine, the smell of things changing and then, before I knew it the sun was gone and was caught in the rain. Which can also be quite beautiful, but usually more so, once you're out of the rain and snuggled up with a hot cup of tea and a good book (or in my case, a sub-stack of my main stack).
Unfortunately, the constant change in weather from rainy and cold, to warm and muggy, to beautiful, beautiful sunshine, in addition to intense brain exercises and lots of rugby, frequently leaves me really, really tired - on the plus, I actually sleep at night (once I get to bed). The downside... sometimes I sleep in class. Just kidding, I'm relaxing my brain, and it SOAKS up information like mad. I'm serious. I not only have amazing notes from classes I don't remember being in, I also know things I don't remember ever having heard.
Possibly, I am playing to much rugby, at one point I had played every day for four weeks straight. On the other hand, the rugby field is were all the interesting stuff happens. For example, the other day we finally settled the age old question: If a tree falls in the woods, and nobody is there to witness it - does it make a sound?
We have some pretty big gusts of wind come though (courtesy of the fall weather, you see, despite the fact that I am seemingly rambling - I am still on topic) and as we were innocently kicking the balls, all of the sudden *crack* and ....... *CRASH* and this huge tree on the side of the rec fields fell. And at the same moment the two of us facing the woods said: "Oh X@!%#@ (inset whatever you think rugby players say in a moment of surprise) did you see that?" While the other two swung their heads around and said: "Oh @#@#!!! did you hear that? What was that?!". I hope that answers your question - if you had that question. If you didn't, should it come up, now you now.
The next day, I found out that that hadn't been the only gust of wind and not the only falling tree. It was one of those sunny fall days and as I rounded one corner, I was momentarily blinded by the sun and I didn't see that one big branch that hadn't been cleared (yet) and before I knew it, I felt it! Big time! OUCH. I made it to class just on time, by then the shock had worn off and it REALLY hurt - at least I had no problems staying awake in class. And I had quite the leg egg.
The reason I almost didn't make it to class on time was that the friendly long island tree people were busy clearing out all the falling trees. With cherry pickers. And big saw.
Which reminds me (last rambled thought for today). WHY are they called cherry pickers?! I have seen people do a LOT of things with cherry pickers. But never, ever have I seen anyone actually pick cherries.
There you go.

under the weather...

I'm still here. Still kicking and fighting and digging my way through the never ending stack of papers that need to be read, information that needs to find its way into my head and homeworks that need to be graded. Though in my defense, the "to be graded stack" does get cleared quite quickly once I sit down and do it (usually with something yummy baking in the oven) - but I am pretty sure that I have seen that stack get bigger while I am working my through it. I'm pretty sure they multiply. They also mess with my head. I'm pretty sure I FELT a few of my brain cells falter and die the other day. It not only has to do with the repetitiveness of reading the same (wrong) thing over and over and OVER again... It also has to do with the fact that in our day and age essays can be submitted electronically - five minutes before the deadline. Writing under pressure and with a deadline takes on a new meaning and trust me, those essays usually are not a pretty sight. And unfortunately, I drop in my level of argument and expression - and it starts getting really, really difficult to bring out a coherent, stringent somewhat intelligent sentence. Which has made some of my study sessions quite entertaining.
For everyone else.
But I guess, that just means I'm still entertaining.

rollin', rollin', rollin'....

A lot of you have asked what happened what with the stolen bike.
I do not know what happened with with the stolen bike.
But for about a week I whizzed around campus on eight small wheels (my rollerblades) until I got a new set of wheels (a new bike). While most people sort of semi-understand using a bicycle as primary mode of transportation, the "rollerblade-thing" really threw people off. Some laughed, some shook their heads, many put it off as "poor thing growing up outside the country like that has messed with her head."
I have to say, on the long run (roll?) a bike definitely beats rollerblades when it comes to transportation, though it can be fun to roll right into class... In my defense, none of the buildings forbid rollerblading inside. And I was being careful (most of the time :-D).
And yes, your mental images of me on rollerblades, on a campus are probably quite accurate.
While I was out bike shopping I notice several large poster which are advocating cycling. Most of their arguments circle around the fact that most trips are very close to home (within cycling distance - though I have learned that cycling distance is not the same here as it was back in Germany), it saves a lot of gas (though it would be interesting to calculate how much you'll pay for extra food, but then again I suppose pasta is cheap) and that it's really healthy.
Apparently, it drastically reduces the probability of a heart attack and increases life expectancy and a couple of other things. Lots of statistics. Interesting statistics. Numbers and stuff. Like if you cycle so-and-so many miles a week it goes up this-and-this many percent.
Well, I've done the math. Apparently, I'm going to live for ever.

And then I nearly lost it...

I like to think of myself as a humorous person. Downright funny at times.
But this morning at 3:30 am when I was standing outside of my building for the second time that night because somebody had set off the firealarm for the second time that night I nearly lost it. My sense of humor that is... the way the past week went, I actually found myself in an absurd situation - and was unable to laugh about it.
I also like to think of myself as a non-violent person. Peaceful, happy - even charming at times.
But this morning at 3:30 am when I was standing outside of my building for the second time that night because somebody had set off the firealarm for the second time that night I was ready to figure out who it was and either try some of the new moves I learned playing rugby in Brooklyn on Saturday or alternatively (since I was still quite sore from having been at the recieving end the day before) figuring out who it was, and demonstrating what a fire in a dorm room really looks like.
A few hours later, as I was crawling out of bed for an early class and an early midterm, I discovered that while the events of the weekend (amond them having my bicycle stolen) had turned me into a little ball of anger and frustration, the events of that night (namely being awakened by the most obnoxious firealarm ever, every time I had finally fallen asleep) had turned me into a very tired, irratable ball of anger and frustration. The prospect of having to walk to the bus station for a longer period of time than it takes me to cycle to class didn't make things better.
Obviously, like any well-connected, internet savy person of my generation I had voiced my outrage of this weekend's happenings on facebook. Interestingly, while I mentioned several frustrating tid-bits the one thing that caught everyone's attention and seems to be the one thing everyone agrees upon that is the actual underlying factor is the lack of good German chocolate.
The fact that my status update about a frustrating weekend was able to trigger an international discussion on whether or not chocolate is essential, what the impact factor of nationality on various foods is, why Germans don't to bacon and why Canadians don't do Schinken and what maple syrup has to do with it... It definetely brightened my day.
Maybe I haven't lost it yet after all.
Ha.

Fire update...

Apparently, the early Monday morning fire drill really was intended to kick off the week. It's the "learn not to burn and graduate alive"-Fire-awarness week.
And no, I didn't make up that term.
And yes, I was really worried about not making it all the way to graduating because somebody set of the fire the building on fire with a hair straightener.

Showers...

To those of you reading this who know me from back in the day when I was young and off to sea, "three minute showers" probably brings back memories. For everyone else, a quick explanation.

Ships have tanks for fresh water so in order to keep the amount of water used as small as possible we had the so called "three-minute-shower-rule". Which works pretty much like you think it does: The water was only allowed to run for three minutes during our shower. Hop in the shower, water on, water off, soap up, water on, wash of water off... aaaaaaaaaaaaaand finished. Yes, for those of you who were wondering, this is one of the reasons why when somebody says, "Shannon, you coming? We're leaving in 10 minutes!" And I say, "Yeah, sure. I gotta take a quick shower", I will actually be there in 10 minutes.

Anyway, I noticed that during long voyages when we were running low on water (or if there was no appropriate fresh water available for a while) all of the sudden the showers turned cold. Very cold. And suddenly, everyone found it much easier to take three minute showers. Hop in the shower, water on, shiver and think ?!@x#!?!, water off, soap up, hesitate a moment knowing it's going to be REALLY cold, hold you breath, water on, wash off, water off - go drink a hot cup of tea.

I think my dorm has a similar system, though admittedly it doesn't involve cold water. And yet there is a limit to the length of my showers. The drain appears to be the limiting factor: The longer you shower the more the water level rises, past your toes, ankles,...

We asked about getting it fixed and were told it wasn't an emergency... Ha. I'll show them an emergency!

What a way to start the week...

Monday morning at 7:30 am I had just finished making my tea and adding appropriate amounts of cereal and fruits to my yoghurt, when the most obnoxious sound I have heard in a long time reached my tender ears. A screeching, flashing fire alarm. Of all things - on a Monday morning in a student dorm?!
Being the well trained-fire-alarm-person that I am (two years of Wednesday morning drill will do that to you) I marched downstairs mug in one and cereal bowl in the other hand. And spent the next 15 minutes being highly entertained by everyone else crawling out of the building - none of them thought to bring breakfast.
For the most part, everyone did bring something to cover up (a towel can be helpful for more things than drying off), quite a few people just brought their blanket with them and leaned against the next best wall and simply continued their morning slumber.
I now know everything there is to no about what my fellow inhabitants do and do not know wear to bed...
What a way to kick off the week!

It makes me laugh everytime

After already having established that Long Islanders are a class to their own when it comes to traffic it came as a bit of a surprise when I came across several backed up cars on campus and discovered why all these people who usually don't even stop at red lights where standing around.
Geese.
Lots of them.
The sort of migrate around campus creating havoc because they never use the crosswalks (Stop at crosswalks IT'S STATELAW) and like to cross streets on a regular basis.
One by one.
With just enough distance in between them that nobody can cross the road. At least not the cars. It's just as funny as it sounds. All these ducks waddling across the street and no honking, no yelling, no squacking - no nothing to make them go faster (or slower).
What joy, what fun!

The end of summer

So everyone told me that Labor Day is the end of summer. I figured that meant that the humidity would go, the temperature would begin dropping, the days would get shorter, the color of the leaves would change - you know a gradual process.
I certainly did not expect to wake up to a cloudy, mucky Tuesday, a rainy-ish Wednesday and torrential downpour lasting the rest of the week. I did not expect to get soaked four to five times a day (usually just as I was approaching wherever I as going). And I didn't expect it to get that windy.
I was kind of surprised to get home late Thursday night to find all the sprinklers still on (in general, I find there are way to many sprinklers on at the wrong times, I suppose they're all on timers). Not only were they on the night of a fairly "wet" day, they were on on the eve on an extremely windy night. In the end, they were watering the sidewalks not the grass. And so, though I had managed to stay dry all day, I had to use all my awesome sprinkler-hopping, side-stepping, swerving and other techniques and still got wet in the process.
And so... summer really did end.
Fortunately, the sun came peeking out again today.

I was just thinking...

about Americans and cash. Or the none-usage of cash. Possibly just the fact that nobody seems to carry cash on them on a regular basis. Actually, more about people being quite offended when a place "only takes cash". And the fact that those around me seem surprised at my cash-carrying habits. I keep telling people: "I'm European. We use cash on a regular basis".
It just so happens that I have a theory on why this glorious nation has forsaken its bills and coins - to replace them with plastic in various formats. I'm pretty sure that the United States is the only country I've ever been to where all the bills have the same color. I have mentioned this before, but really it does make life so much easier when you can tell how much cash is in your wallet by just glancing inside and viewing the rainbow of bills (or lake thereof) as opposed to leaving through.
Put that on the list of things that really need to be reformed in this country: The presidential election system, the color of bills,... though not necessarily in that sequence.

Labor Day weekend

I have always wondered why it's called Labor Day if nobody is actually working. On the other hand, I lucked out because this year I got two Labor Days.
Just as I had gotten used to there being so many people on campus (I might be developing another case of bike path rage because nobody seems to think there is a problem walking 4 people wide across the bike path... actually it wouldn't be if one could get them to move over) everyone left. I'm not sure where everyone went (because everyone just got here) but from what I understand most people studying here are from New York and went home. Or to the beach.
Apparently, one is to go to the beach on Labor Day and "celebrate" the end of summer. Interestingly enough, in a way summer really did end. After weeks of sunshine, sadly, the sun does not seem willing to come out today. While I did briefly set foot on the beach yesterday (I even got my feet wet) I spent my weekend in the more non-traditional way of playing rugby all weekend in various forms and formations.
I have had to trade in my 7s jersey (i.e. in Germany I played in a league where we played seven players a side) for a 15s (that is 15 people a side, the "original" way to play rugby) one. Unfortunately, this means I have to re-learn some things - it's very confusing at first to have more than twice the amount of people running around on the field, especially since my eyesight isn't getting any better!

But doesn't this look like fun?!

I almost ran over the Greek alphabet

The other day I needed to print some of my reading material for the week and decided to zip over to the main campus. The moment several Greek letters stepped out onto the path in front of me I probably should have realized that something was going on.
I recieved a definite second clue when I came up to the Student Activities center. The plaza in front of it was fuller than I had ever seen it - and there were even more (different) Greek letters running around. That, and on a small stage three people were standing yelling out various combinations of Greek letters (had I not known better at this point I probably would have assumed they were going through physical equations!) to which from somewhere on the quad several people would start yelling at the top of their voices...
Suddenly, it made sense why Fraternities and Sororities are called the Greek system :-D

Yaaay...

Apparently, Friday was Freshman move-in day. Of course, I didn't know - which is why I was surprised to find a) a LOT of cars lines up and down all the roads around the dorm areas and b) -
well, b) pretty much fullfilled any American stereotype that had remained standing up until that point.
b) there were cheerleaders on the curbs cheering the incoming cars.
Yaaaaaay.
But they had quit by the time I was cycling back on campus. Probably because it had started raining and continued doing so for most of the weekend.
So, how was my weekend? Well, mostly wet.
The sun did come out on Sunday afternoon. Which is why I went out - and went on a bike ride which seemed to cover most of the island, but in reality I just discovered a bunch of roads that end. Somewhere.
Aaaaaaaanyway, on special request from my Dad, here's pictures of my new "wheels".

Pretty cool, huh?

Things I've learned so far... regarding traffic

10. I find it extremely difficult to figure out when a sidewalk is a sidewalk and when it is acutally ment to be a sideride. I also find it almost impossible to determine when a bike path is a bike path, when it's a kind of parking lane and when it's just a generously drawn sideline.
11. My internal navigation system has kicked it. Yes, this is a good thing. Unfortunately, it doesn't ake into account that while sometimes a highway is the only way to get somewhere they shouldn't be used by bikes (don't worry, dear parental units. I didn't try to go anywhere on the highway!). Also, I think I may have accidently rollerbladed onto the roof of the student union. Should that be a bad thing, they really shouldn't have made it accessible by rollerblades.
12. I always thought the traffic light system in Konstanz was the worst I had ever encountered. I was wrong. I appologize. The worst/oddest system of traffic light cycles is definitely on Long Island. There a lights for people on foot, but they will only go on if you push the button (and then they might not even if you do push the button, but they definitely won't work if you just stand there). I think there should be rules on how close these buttons have to be to the actual crosswalk, how visible they are (e.g. hidden in a tree is not okay), etc.
13. Signs. There seems to be signs for everything. And they are very specific. Some of them look like somebody just decided to put on a sign one day, so he went out to buy some paint and a piece of metal. I came up to a junction and read the following signs: "Right lane must turn right", "Left lane must turn left", "No turn on red light". Now what about the people in the middle lane? Do they get to do whatever they please? And then there was this one - what does that even mean?!

More things I have learned so far

5. I need to work on my "I'm a mature woman now"-image. Starting with getting past the point where everyone seems to think I'm a teenager. The taxi driver who gave me a ride from the airport was trying to be friendly when he said: "So, you're here for school, huh? You'll be going to Stony Brook Prep?". Really?! I am waaay past high school - in SO MANY ways!
6. It's really, really hot here. And humind. Fortunately, this is the United States - most buildings have air-con. Unfortunately, the stairways do not. Even more unfortunately it seems that a high percentage of elevators are currently broken. In almost every office building of sorts I have had to find somebody the elevators (or stairs for that matter) where a) hard to find and b) broken, being repaired, out of commission - possibly they eloped. Who knows. Anyway, pretty much every office I had to go to was up several floors - I'm the kind of person who never showers directly after heavy excercise, because usually I don't REALLY start sweating until I'm finished. On the long run, showing up at every air-conditioned office and breaking out in a full sweat and having to make sure I don't drip on whatever form I was filling out: NOT cool (sorry, couldn't resist the pun!). Fortunately...
7. There are now ground floors. Okay, yes there are ground floors, but in contrast to Germany nobody calls them the ground floor. The ground floor is the first floor. So, for example though I live on the 2nd floor, I'm actually on the first floor you reach when taking the stairs. So everytime I figured out where I had to be (the probability of the elevator not running was exponential to the "largeness" of the number) and started up all those flight of stairs, I realized it was never as far as I'd initially assumed!
8. I am only short by comparison. In Germany, there was friendly teasing in some of my circles of friends, regarding my (lack of) size - German woman are usually about 10cm (make that 4 inches) taller than I am and, for example, I was the shortest player on my rugby team for some time. I always tell people that since American woman are 164cm tall on average and I am just a bit shorter than that I am only statistically short. And let's be honest, I am rather short than average. But here,... why I practically tower over people!
9. The bugs here are nasty. I just got back from rugby practice and my feet are a mound of HUGE bumps resulting from the five minutes between the time I took off my cleats, put on sandles and took off in the direction of home!

How did they know?

How could they know? How can there be a sign telling you that you are going the wrong way? Isn't every way somehow also a right way?


Okay... now I get it! They come in pairs on campus. After every "Do not enter" sign there is a sign for those who did enter a one way road the wrong way to tell them they are going the wrong way.
Except - Now I'm still trying to figure out how this goes together with the whole "the brightest minds in the world"-thingie.

see what I mean?

This one reads - Welcome to Stony Brook and the beginning of an incredible journey.

Things I've learned so far...

1. People used to ask my parents why their children sound like they're from New York. I don't. I really, really don't.
2. When I was about 14 I was told not to worry that people said I dressed - differently. Supposedly I already at that age I dressed like a college kid: shorty, t-shirts, hoodies. So, not to worry, by the time I would make it to college, everyone would have caught up with me. By the time I made it to college, students in Germany still don't dress that way. And while my T-Shirts have become a bit more "cut" and my shorts a bit shorter - it seems as if anything more than halfway down your thighs is still quite long. And maybe I should start wearing flip-flops as well. Then finally I'll fit in.
3. Americans should do what pretty much every other country does: Each type of bill should have a different color. It makes life SO MUCH MORE SIMPLE. Really. Trust me.
4. For all the "let's go green" - there are some fatal flaws in the whole concept. For example: "Ride your bike, it's greener, it's healthier, it will make you fitter" is a good idea. And yet there are some small details which haven't been observed that would make it more easy, e.g. bike racks in front of shops.
More to follow...

The "I got my Mom for help"-effect

So, sports being a big deal does come with benefits. For example, a pool to be used when no team practice is going on. Currently, my ears a still full of water from testing this priviledge yesterday.
It didn't go exactly as planned - that is the swimming part did, it was the part after that made for one of those "I can't believe this is happening"-moments.
I returned quite wet and ready to get changed to realize that I had somehow managed to jam my locker which contained all my clothes.
Not good.
I put quite a bit of effort into getting it open.
To no avail.
I went back into the pool ask the lifeguard-dude for help (or where to find help) and he directed me to the front desk. Which I had sort of expected, but had been secretly hoping there would be an alternative to walking out in the lobby in my bathing suit.
So I wandered out in my bathing suit only to find -
noboy.
Considering my options would have been wandering the entire Indoor Sports Complex in my bathing suit I opted for hanging out in the lobby looking lost and confused hoping somebody would show up who could help me.
Somebody (a female somebody, which was even more convenient) did show up. Opened the door to "building maintenance" went in and just when I was about to knock came back out again, saw me still standing in the front lobby in my bathing suit and said: "Do you need some help?".
I almost said: "Yeah, do I look like I usually run around lobbies in my bathing suit?!" - because a) I don't (hang around in lobbies in my bathing suit) and b) I really don't look like I run around in my bathing suit. Or anywhere for that matter. And if you've seen my in a bathing suit lately, it becomes quite obvious. I have tan lines from my shorts, tan lines from my t-shirt(s) and tan lines from the one day I did run around in my bathing suit.
Instead I said: "Yeah, I jammed my locker..." and we went back into the women's changing room she said: "Which one." and I said: "This one." And she grabbed the handle and -
It opened. No problem. Great.
This is the "I got my Mom for help"-effect as in you can't find something in your room and the moment you get your Mom she walks into your room and -
There it is.

You are following some of the brightest minds in the world

Here on campus there are several bus routes with big buses and little buses and some in between buses. The bigger buses have an "inscription": You are follwing some of the brightest minds in the world.
Actually there are signs all over campus with "statistics" reminding us how amazing this university is. How many inventions and patents have sprung from these bright minds, which ranking we are included in etc. I wonder - do these signs stay up all year, or just during the first few weeks of the semester in order to make sure everyone is properly brainwashed.
I few years ago, my previous university was chosen to be a part of this new program in Germany where they were picking "Eliteuniversitäten", which were supposed to be the top universities in Germany which were then endorsed with all kinds of money. And so a new one-liner became popular among the student body: "Konstanz, here studieth the Elite. And me".
What we don't have in Germany is University Sports. At least not the same way as here. The campus is almost empty but there are already signs everywhere. "You are in seawolves country". What does that mean anyway? Apparently, for one, I shall have to start wearing red if I want to fit in (at least on "Red Friday"). I get the whole, if we identify with our team we identify with our university and then we are united and united we stand and ... well I guess it makes everything better.
But really, do we have to turn everything into a "wolfie" this or that thing? The wireless net is "WolfieNet", there's a restaurant named after the Seawolves (apparently it serves extra large pasta portions), the convenvience store is the WolvesMarket or something, there's a hugh "Seawolves quilt" hanging in the middle of one of the lounges (Tradition's Lounge I think...) - I'm sure you get the picture.
Shame I never looked good in red.

I'm here now

So here I am. On my new island (please feel obligated to watch Braveheart if you don't get that reference :-D). I made it safely to campus only to realize that I arrived together with what seems like several thousand Chinese and Indian exchange students.
Seriously, if you walk past the Student Activities Center, which houses a huge dining room with a big window front coming from the West, you might think you were in India. If you approach from the East, you probably would assume you just reached mainland China.
At least I know I am instinctively navigating the Adiminstration in the right sequence because I have happened upon rush hour several times. A lot of them have come with friends, or made friends very quickly because they always travel in packs (that and the fact that they are usually clutching their passport is how you tell them apart from "normal" Asian-Americans) and, for example, when I went to get my student ID there was about 20 Chinese getting theirs. This had an unwanted affect on my ID picture. Thanks to my mother I am in possession of some passport pictures that actually look like me (if you have had the priviledge to view my driver's license or passport lately you will realize that yes, there was a time when Shannon had long hair or even better yet, my train pass which features me not realizing a picture being taken and giving a classic "huh?!" expression).
BUT, because there was so much going on the ID-printer person was sitting there with his eyes glued to the screen giving instructions: "Have you passport ready", waving one hand in the air (you kind of had to time it correctly to hand you ID to him), " have a seat", waving the other hand towards a chair all this time his eyes did not leave his screen "look directly into the camera and smile if you feel like it" (really, he said that, apparently smiling is optional) and "Hold" - then the camera clicked.
UNFORTUNATELY, at this moment there was some prett funny stuff going on outside with the other ID-person (a real life New Yorker in her fifities) trying to handle all these foreign student who could only understand half of what she was saying (to their credit, I'm sure their English teacher didn't have a New York accent - to her credit, some of those Chinese names are difficult to pronounce, i.e. you never really know if you pronounce them the way they're spelled) resulting in general confusion which I found quite amusing. That added to the "smile if you feel like it" comment resulted in another picture to be put in the category "Shannon's odd ID pictures" featuring a half-amused, half "I'm not sure if I feel like smiling" with sort of raised eybrows and not sitting quite straight expression. Plus, I wasn't sitting all the way straight and the camera was zoomed out quite a bit so it almost looks like I was sliding off the chair while the picture was being taken.
So much for planning ahead.
This also reminds me of the story of how we took a "Mystery Drive to China" when I was a kid... a popular story, which shall possibly be recounted at another time.

I travel with a helmet

I am almost packed. There are still a few things that need to be packed - or not packed. Depending on how much space I have. For example my helmet.
Last year I flew to Scotland together with my bike and had my helmet attached to my carry-on. A little boy saw this and tugged his Daddy's coat sleeve: "Daddy, why does she have a helmet?".
And I said: "Ah yes, it's these cheap airlines. You never know what's going to happen. And they make you pay extra for everything - now you even have to bring your own life jacket!".
And the little boy said: "Daddy, did we bring our life jackets?!"

there's something weird going on

Today I baked cookies.
Generally, not a noteworthy thing (unless you happen to follow the cookie smell into the kitchen). But as I cracked open the egg I was shocked to discover "twins".

My mother came running alarmed by my "oh my goodness" yelp. And surprisingly was much less surprised than I - claiming to have had three twins in one egg-paket. There is something going on with the food.
Seriously, the other day we picked some of my sisters tomatoes and look what we found then!

Baking Friends...

The other day I was busy making cookies and brownies when my younger brother walked in. While munching on a cookie straight out of the oven he said: "Keep baking like this and you will be quite popular with your room mates. Baking abilities are a sure way to making friends."
My baking talents have always been quite popular and my brownies are legendary on four continents. But then it struck me. In the land of cookies, brownies and baking mixes - my abilities are no longer as impressive.
How sad. I shall have to finde a new way to bake some friends.

Finding closure...

When I got back to Germany three years ago the first place I went within hours of landing was SoLa - the summer camp I have been involved in since I was 17. On my list of things to do before I leave for the States there was one important point: Go to SoLa. I just got back and now have one week left before I leave and somehow it seemed quite fitting to end my time here. A good way to bring closure. Say goodbye. Move on. Look back at a special "place" that played a large role in who I am today.
After three days of setting up and one week of teenagers I arrived back home in the usual fashion: Happy, tired, satisfied, dirty, with lots of mosquito bites, plenty of stories to tell... and a bag of dirty laundry. I find it amazing how quickly we form habits - for example, we build our own toilette facilities. We use big tanks (they can hold 1000 litres), build plattforms on top of them and then place boxes with toilette seats on top. We used to build little "cabins" with thick plastic sheets, but as the years progressed we now have wooden ones. The plastic ones made for interesting entertainment at night, when the kids thought it necessary to take a flashlight with them and place it on the floor - the resulting shadow show was quite fascinating. This year, our toilettes where in the woods and somebody set up flurescent lights. Actually, this caused the bathroom to be better lit at night than during the day! Most people returning from camp deal with two new bathroom habits: For one, people forget to flush (but quickly re-adapt) and secondly, if you feel the need to go during the night, SoLa-returners find themselves searching for warm cloths.
This year part of our camp was on a hill and I was one of the lucky inhabitants of a tent whose floor was at a slight slant. This did have positive results as well. For example, it made it easy to tell time at night. One of the girls sleeping in my tent would slide down. Around 2am her feet were next to my head, two hours later approximately at shoulder height and by the time it my moment had come to rise and shine I started feeling cramped between her and my bag. One morning she woke up almost entirely on my mat - apparently she shifted onto it after I left!
At the end of camp traditionally all the people helping out form a huge line and all the participants file past and say good-bye.
This year, as I shook over 300 hands and hugged countless people it felt as if was saying good-bye to my years of "coming of age": Growing up. Figuring out who I am. Finding my place. Not that I'm there yet. But I'm getting there - and maybe it's time to move on to the next stage of my life.

Moving on...

So, I recently completed my degree here at Lake Constance and will be moving on to greener pastures - bluer waters to be more precise. I'm swapping my lake for an island.
For the past few months I have been using the fact that I will be emigrating from Germany to New York to become a Marine Biologist for my own private entertainment - and to rid myself of all people trying to get me to sign a petition, accept a flyer, prescribe to a magazine and anything else anyone else bothering me on the streets.
For example, I went out with my rugby team for a last drink after my final practice and as we were sitting there a student walked past passing out invitations for a party. I told him I wasn't going to come. He said: "You never know". I told him I was leaving the country. Emigrating to New York. Becoming a Marine Biologist. He didn't look convinced.
Emigrating to the New York is very "cliché" for Germany. Becoming a Marine Biologist apparently every young girls dream (that and becoming a ballerina depends on whether they prefered "Free Willy" or "Save the last dance" as kids). Laughing my team mates told him it was the absolute truth.
When somebody tried to get me to sign a petition I told them I was leaving - I really didn't care. The other day I told the woman advising people about their personal finances in front of the grocery store that I had already found a solution and was leaving the country. She laughed and asked where. In the end she told me either I was incredibly good at pulling really crazy stories out of my sleeve and should go into politucs or all the best for becoming a Marine Biologist.
I'll opt for the second.