Princeton 2050

I know I've only been at Princeton for a week, but ... wow. I felt at home right away as I watched the family hovercar levitate out of Lot 23. After the Robobutlers finished taking my stuff upstairs and unpacking, I went over to Frist Campus Center for the mandatory orientation activities. Some of them were pretty boring, like the four-hour anti-antifeminism brainwashing and the inoculation against WASPs. But the "Frist LoveFest" downstairs was a total blast, with free water bottles, free pizza, clowns and the opportunity to adore some of the Most Wise and Revered Administrators (MWRAs) up close and personal.

After dinner that first night, I got a taste of Princeton's delicious social scene. There are eight residential colleges, and they house almost all of the undergrads and grad students (described as "fratty" by the MWRAs). The colleges are totally the center of social life. There, I spend an hour each week in my sleeping pod, hang out with my friends, eat my meals, play intramural Sudoku, you know. It's so close-knit that the MWRAs say we shouldn't even try to meet people from other residential colleges because we'd have nothing in common.

You know what else? I've been assigned some really great friends! Every freshperson belongs to a "Friendship Circle," a group of nine randomly selected students with whom we are required to share a room five hours a week, for grades. MWRA Dean Gerber said it's to ensure a diverse and awesome experience. Each circle has two Caucasians, two African-Americans, two Hispanics, one Asian, an international student and an "other." Yesterday we talked about Rosa Parks' heroism on the Underground Railroad, which I learned is not a reference to the Dinky's tunnel to Palmer Square. I feel so diverse already!

Mom was worried about me eating enough, but actually I'm in more danger of gaining the Freshperson 50! Just last night two of my Friendship Circle comrades and I spent two whole hours guzzling the dining hall's finest cuisine, made exclusively from locally grown, organic grass and oats. Let me tell you, New Jersey has the best oats EVA. I do wish we had such oats in my home state, but transporting them would probably involve enough carbon emissions to earn life imprisonment.

My residential college, "Malkiel," is nothing short of amazing. I live in Henry Hall, which was renovated last year to surpass even the vaunted Whitman College in its gothic authenticity, with suits of armor, torch-lit halls and even a creepy hunchback who lives in the tower and occasionally kidnaps someone. Apparently, Henry was one of the last dorms to be occupied by eating club members before they were all moved out to the Forbes Addition Quarantine. My RCA told me that it was the final stage in expanding options for everyone.

Oops, I forgot to explain what an eating club is. Well, to be honest, I'm not really sure. I think it's some kind of center for social misfits who didn't adjust well to the residential colleges. Cringe! There are three of these clubs, called Ivy, Cottage and Tiger Inn. They don't ever let guests in, except Cottage for 12 days a year so it can avoid paying property taxes. I think there used to be a lot more clubs, but they all went bankrupt a long time ago. Today, the old clubs make beautiful academic buildings and Public Safety substations. In fact, I had my orientation for the Program in Greening at the old Terrace building just yesterday.

I don't want you to think that everything is perfect. Public Safety's "Swarm the Dorm" policy hardly lets you crack open a vessel of RoboBeast without setting off your podroom's alcohol detectors. And since the cops have the latest flying Segways, they have the nasty habit of looking in your window every few minutes on party nights to make sure there aren't more than three people inside. Yesterday I was just minding my business, getting changed to hit the VirtuaGym, and all of a sudden I came face-to-face with this trollish looking woman ... naked. Oh, well. At least she didn't spot my microwave!

Also, Princeton's grade deflation policy is kind of harsh. I mean, no more than 10 percent passing grades in any class? Really? Still, I wasn't valedictorian of Barack Obama High for nothing; I'll be totally fine. I'm simply going to have to use my D/F/F- grading option strategically for those classes in which I don't want to work too hard.

Yikes, look at the time! Gotta run to College Night dinner - I hear we've got a magician. : ) Don't worry, I'll write again after "RoboSex on a Saturday Night" tomorrow. ttyl!

Yours truly,

Barack Obama Buxby, Class of 2054

Matt Kandel is an economics major from Boca Raton, Fla. He can be reached at mkandel@princeton.edu.