Caitlin, Calculass

The Calculass Zone

Caitlin Decter's Worldview

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First day at the new school
Caitlin, Calculass
Okay, ask me if my new school is noisy and crowded.  Go ahead, ask.  Why, thank you:  yes, it is noisy and crowded.  Eighteen hundred students!  And the building is three stories tall.  Actually, it's three storeys tall, this being Canada and all.  Hey, how do you find a Canadian in a crowded room?  Start stepping on people's feet and wait for someone to apologize to you.  :)

First day in tenth grade began with the Mom dropping me off and BrownGirl4 (luv ya, babe!) meeting me at the entrance.  I'd walked the empty corridors of the school several times last week, getting my bearings, but it's completely different now that the school is full of kids, so my folks are slipping BG4 a hundred bucks a week to escort me to our classes.  The school managed to work it so we're in all but one together.  No way I could be in the same French class as her -- je suis une beginneur, after all!

BG4 and I got desks beside each other in home room, and she said this guy in the next row was totally checking me out.  Go me!  Let's give him a code name, cuz I think he just might figure in future blog entries.  Hmmm, how 'bout ... the Hoser!  That's Canadian slang, folks -- google it!  Anyway, BG4 says the Hoser is famous for hitting on new girls in town, and I am, of course, tres exotique, although I'm not the only American in that class.  There's this chick from Boston named -- friends, I kid you not! -- poor thing's name is Sunshine!  It is to puke.  :P

Anyway, first period rocked because I am made out of awesome.  Can you guess which subject it was?  No points if you didn't answer "math."  And, after only one day, I totally own that class.  The teacher -- let's call him Mr. H, shall we? -- was amazed that I could do things in my head the other kids need a calculator for.

After math, it was English.  We're doing a boring book about this angsty guy growing up on the plains of Manitoba.  It's got wheat in every scene.  I asked the teacher -- Mrs. Z, she is, and you could not have picked a more Canadian name, cuz she's Mrs. Zed, not Mrs. Zee, see? -- if all Canadian literature was like this, and she laughed and said, "Not all of it."  Oh what a joy English class is going to be!

Lunch was okay, but I swear to God I'll never get used to Canadians.  They put vinegar on French fries!  And BG4 told me about this thing called poontang.  Kidding, friends, kidding!  It's poutine:  French fries with cheese curds and gravy thrown on top -- it's like they use fries as a freakin' science lab up here.  Guess they don't have much money for real science, 'cept here in Waterloo, of course.  And that's mostly private moolah.  Yup, the all-important green stuff.  Well, except it's not green up here, I'm told; apparently it's all different colors.

Anyway, a lot of the money to fund the Perimeter Institute, where my dad works on quantum gravity and other shiny stuff like that, comes from Mike Lazaridis, cofounder of Research in Motion -- RIM, for you crackberry addicts.  Mike L's a great guy (they always call him that cuz there's another Mike, Mike B), and I think my dad is happy here, although it's so blerking hard to tell with him.

After lunch it was chemistry class, and that looks like it's going to be awesome.  I can't wait until we start doing experiments -- but if the teacher brings in a plate of fries, I'm outta there!

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