Here's our first college road trip by the numbers:
We visited
4 colleges in
3 days in
3 states in
3 different cities,
2 of which claimed to have been voted the best "Foodie City in America."
We spent
13 hours driving, surviving
2 near misses in Connecticut and managing to avoid
9 fender benders during the
60 minutes we spent traveling
6 miles in Boston at
8 o'clock in the morning. During those
13 hours in the car, my daughter consumed
5 bags of Combos and I drank
17 bottles of water while my daughter, in a futile attempt to turn me into a hipster, forced me to listen to
3 episodes of "Welcome to Night Vale" -- a very strange and creepy, but occasionally funny (and I'm not just saying that to appear hipster-ish) podcast.
We attended
5 information sessions given by
10 perky college students and
3 only slightly less perky admissions officers and attended by
200 anxious juniors and their
400 extremely anxious parents and me (I, of course, was cool as a cucumber) and during which we witnessed only
1 instance of extremely overt student brown-nosing (surprising) and
14 instances of embarrassing parental brown-nosing (less surprising) and, much to our delight,
1 snazzy British father sporting a cravat.
We walked
15 miles during
6 tours guided by
7 impressive college students who, with perfect comedic timing, managed to deliver
50 charming and witty anecdotes while walking backwards.
During the road trip, we spent
23 hours on campuses during which we noticed that at
9 o'clock in the morning, there are
0 students visible on campus, but that on a sunny day at
3 o'clock in the afternoon, there are
1,000's. During that same
23 hours we also attended
1 amazing music theory class with
20 ultra-cool students and I spent
45 minutes seeking out restrooms, which I hope was thanks to the
17 bottles of water I consumed during the
13 hours in the car, and not due to
1 developing case of overactive bladder.
In all, my daughter and I spent
67 hours in each other's company during which we spent an exciting, but exhausting,
47 hours discussing campuses, admissions, applications, essays, SATs... and yet somehow, we managed to have only
2 spats,
1 of which occurred because my daughter punched me when she saw a "punch buggy" because she is, after all,
16 years old and apparently has no idea that she has the strength of a
21 year old
6 foot
3 inch
200 pound specimen. But despite my sore arm, I forgave her because she is, after all, my
1 and only daughter and our road trip, while amazing, and which made me so excited for her (and yes, a bit jealous), reminded me that she has only approximately
485 days left at home.
...sigh