BMOC

Because I moved to Arizona, the State granted Taylor’s petition for in-state tuition. But this does not mean that I qualify for in-state tuition. My mother, afterall, lives in Oklahoma.

So once again, I had to fill out forms, gather various documents and notarize statements to be considered an official resident of Arizona for tuition purposes. (Just living here wouldn’t do it. ) And I couldn’t just copy the thick pile of stuff I had previously submitted for Taylor. The University wanted different information from me because I’m not a dependent. It was a lot of work, but it should save me $20,000 on tuition. I computed that the five hours I invested in the documentation would net me $4,000 an hour. Not too many attorneys earn that!

I dropped off all the completed documentation at the Student Services building last week. And as long as I was on campus, I decided to stroll over to the law school. (I didn’t go inside as I didn’t want them to think I was stalking them.) Instead, I continued on to Vista del Sol. Vista del Sol is the new apartment complex Taylor is moving to this fall. It was built as a partnership between ASU and a developer specializing in upscale on-campus living. Taylor’s current dorm, Manzanita, is an example of downscale on-campus living.

Vista del Sol is only a 10 minute walk from the law school. Whenever I am feeling particularly evil, I tell Taylor I am thinking of moving there so we can be neighbors and I can come over all the time to borrow a cup of sugar. The complex offers an aerobic room, poolside cabanas and tanning booths. But the amenity which interested me was their parking garage.

Parking is at a premium at ASU. There’s one parking garage about five minutes away from the law school and every law school student at ASU is automatically entered in a lottery to buy a slot there. Your chances of winning, however, are slim. Most law students have to buy a parking space clear across campus and take a shuttle in. I heard about one guy who converted to Mormonism just so he could use the parking at the LDS center on campus, but I am not that desperate.

Vista del Sol is only a 10 minute walk from the law school. As a resident, Taylor can rent a parking place there. I found out that afternoon that this courtesy does not extend to residents’ mothers. But as it’s easily cancelled, I reserved a spot for “Taylor” anyway. We’ll work on getting me through security there, if necessary.

So what else have I done to prepare for school? Well, I bought a new “back to school” backpack. And I invested in a hoodie. It’s what all we cool college girls are wearing.

And I got something else good for school today: a letter from the registrar that I’d been approved as a resident for tuition purposes.

Yes, I’m well on my way to being a BMOC (Big Mom on Campus).

Pry Me a River

Photo: The guide, Nancy, Taylor, Saori and Alec white water rafting on the Salt River.

We left the hotel at 7:30 a.m. for our white water rafting adventure day. This is, of course, the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT for night owl Taylor, who did a fairly good job at keeping his grouchiness to a minimum.

We followed the directions to the meeting spot, a parking lot which seemed to serve all four of the commercial rafting companies licensed to work on the river. We wandered over to Mild to Wild where we had to sign not one, but two forms promising not to sue no matter what they did to us. You know it’s got to be good if you have to sign TWO releases!

They gave us the requisite safety lecture which consisted mostly of, “Whatever you do, if you fall out of the boat, don’t stand up!” I decided to avoid all that by not falling out of the boat. We shoved off and immediately hit a rapid.

White water rafting is incredibly fun. Keep your roller coasters, rapids are the ultimate thrill ride. Unfortunately, our day on the river was too little Wild and too much Mild. On the whole, I didn’t mind the non-rapid portions. I was more than happy floating downstream in the midst of the stunning scenery. But I sure could have done without the headwind which reduced us to hard paddling the last hour or so of our eight hour trip.

It was so hard, our guide moved to the front of the boat and asked the weakest paddler (guess who?) to steer. This is called prying and despite our guide’s constant directions to me, I couldn’t get the hang of it. Eventually, I traded places with Alec and we finally arrived at the takeout point.

We changed into dry clothes for the trip back. I enjoy four wheel driving in the wilderness and I would have really enjoyed the ride back if I hadn’t been so cold and exhausted.

Back at the car, we compared sunburns. As the rest of us was covered, only our legs were hit but they were roasted. Even Saori got sunburned, a new experience for her. As the Sunscreen Queen, I had somehow managed to avoid sunburn on my left leg, but missed a giant swatch on my right shin which was now an ugly red. Other than sunburn, our other souvenir was the great photo, seen above, of us.

We'll soon forget the sunburn, the strenulous paddling, the long drive home. But we'll remember the excitement of being together, conquoring the white water.

Photo by Saori: Alec, Nancy and Taylor pack up in Globe.

Globe Trotting

Photo left: Taylor, Alec and Saori explore downtown Globe.

In honor of mother’s day, I wanted to go white water rafting with my family. I was surprised to discover that practically the only white water rafting in the U.S. this time of year is on the Salt River outside of Globe, Arizona.

I signed us up for a “Dash of Salt” trip with Mild to Wild. This rafting trip covers 25 miles, the same ground as the company’s two day trip, but skips the camping in between. As Taylor’s idea of camping involves being at a luxury hotel with a concierge and turn down service, this seemed like a good option.

It was a long day, however, and Alec suggested we drive up the day before and explore the town of Globe. (We kept making jokes about being Global explorers.) It was about a two hour drive from Phoenix and much more scenic than my last road trip, which was the deadly dull drive to Tucson to visit U of A.

We checked into the Comfort Inn and were told our two rooms featured a pool view and a mountain view. This was a bit of an exageration as our “mountain view” room overlooked an ugly hill.

Globe was founded in 1876, after the army succeeded in driving the locals (Apaches) out. Silver was mined here for a few years, but copper quickly became king and copper mining continues today. Globe has about 7,000 residents and along with mining, the town is dependent on recreational tourism.

We decided to pass on town’s most famous tourist attraction, the fake Indian pueblos, and headed into downtown. Except for the bars and Tae Kwon Do schools, downtown had closed at 3 p.m. It was so deserted, I half-way kept expecting to see two lonely gun fighters heading towards each other on the dusty street. Yes, I’ve definitely seen too many Westerns.

We then headed off to checkout downtown Miami down the road. There was a lot more action there they were holding some kind of Boomtown fair. This featured a display of noisy engines and a kiddie train that looked like a steam railroad. The fair also had plenty of booths selling cheap plastic souvenirs. I see this same junk at every street market I’ve been throughout the world. I’m sure it’s all manufactured in China.

As a bit of Americana, I stopped to buy Taylor a funnel cake, as he’d never eaten one. Funnel cake is a sugar and fried dough confection. It is a perfect street food as you can eat it with your fingers and it has absolutely no food value. Funnel cake must eaten hot as when it cools, it congeals into a greasy mess. Hot, it is still a greasy mess, but it is a delicious greasy mess. One funnel cake was more than enough for the four of us, especially as it immediately sank to the bottom of our stomachs and expanded.

We wandered on past the festival to look at a lovely Mission style church while trying to get all that funnel cake powdered sugar off our clothes.

That night, we had dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. We decided we’d had enough of going Global, and retired to our hotel.

Photo right: The mountain view from our hotel room.

Miss Popularity At Law School

For me, there were two parts to being accepted to law school. The first part was the application process. You do massive preparation for the LSAT test, fill out forms, gather your transcripts, ask for recommendation letters and track the process online like some drug addict after her next score.

After you confirm that all your required documentation is accepted, comes the worst part: waiting. Your day revolves around checking your mailbox as you wait to hear something, anything from these schools. In the meantime, you start to second guess yourself. Were my rec letters okay? Should I have rethought my personal statement? Will my top choices want me? Will ANY law school ever want me?(Law school seems to only attract those of us who are obsessive-compulsive worriers by nature.)

The second half of the acceptance process is much more fun. One wonderful day you’re notified you’ve been admitted, and suddenly everything changes. You go from being Left Alone to being Miss Popularity. This is because once a law school chooses you, they go to great lengths to get you to choose them back.

They immediately start inviting you to all kinds of events: admitted students days, legal forums, online chats. And your mailbox becomes filled with letters from various people at the law school telling you how great their programs are and how much they are looking forward to a terrific person like YOU being a part of it. And please, please contact them anytime about anything with which they might be of service.

Some schools even send you t-shirts. Does anybody really choose a law school because of a free t-shirt? This didn’t seem like much of an inducement to me, but I don’t really wear tee-shirts. A pair of designer shoes would have been nice, though. “Congratulations on being accepted to our law school. We’ve enclosed a pair of Manola Blahniks.” That definitely would have gotten my attention.

After three months of waiting, I was finally notified of my acceptance to ASU's School of Law. They immediately invited me to their admitted students’ day the following week.

This kicked off with a reception where I was encouraged to bond with my fellow admitted students. The first two women I met were seniors in college in their early 20s. While our life experiences up to that point were very different, we still had plenty to talk about. Applying to law school is a great unifying experience. We actually spent about 10 minutes chatting about specific questions on the December LSAT. (I TOLD you law school attracts obsessive-compulsive people.)

ASU’s law school is a relatively new program. At 40, it is younger than me. One disadvantage of their relative youth is that they don’t have the ample scholarship funds like ancient moneybucks U of A. In fact, during the financial aid segment the next day, ASU made a blanket announcement that they couldn’t match your scholarship offer at U of A. So don’t even ask. On the other hand, they took pains to point out that with ASU, you get to live in a real city with lots of opportunities for externships and networking.

Most important to me, it’s a city with Alec and Taylor and my friends and my house. As impressed as I was with U of A’s law school, they can’t match that.

Photo left: Miss Law School Popularity (and her copper pots) are staying in Phoenix.

Taylor Tales, Part 3

I was on a mountaintop in Tibet. It was a desolate landscape and the only sound I could hear was the flapping of the rows of battered prayer flags in the wind. I was thinking, “I have to be in one of the most isolated places in the world.” Suddenly, a buzzing disturbed my reverie. It was from my cellphone inside my backpack.

I had given Taylor, who was in fourth grade, my number to use in case of emergencies. His emergency? “Hey, Mom. Where’s the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese?”

The box was in its usual place in the pantry. I guess isolation, as well as emergencies, are relative.

Taylor Tales, Part Two

We were having lunch at Whataburger at the Singapore Zoo with my parents. Taylor, a second grader, was squirming around and knocked over his soda.

“Taylor,” I admonished as I tied to soak up the mess with paper napkins, “you have to pay attention to what you’re doing.”

“Oh, Mom,” he replied, “I was distracted by your beauty.”

This resulted in the rest of us laughing so hard, we practically spilled OUR sodas too.

Taylor Tales, Part One

In honor of Taylor's 19th birthday, I will be recording the Greatest Hits of Taylor Stories. These stories have long been retired, meaning we no longer get to repeat them. But Taylor has given me permission to post them here one more time for posterity. Happy birthday, Tay.

Larry and 10-year old Taylor were sitting outside by our pool. "You know, Taylor," Larry said, "when I was your age I hardly ever got to go swimming. We didn't have a backyard pool." Back then, Larry's parents had barely scraped by and were living in a trailer house.

Taylor looked up with a puzzled expression. "Why didn't you just go to the Country Club, Dad?"

Gone With the River Winds

Growing up, I formed all my ideas about casinos from James Bond movies. I thought casinos were ultra-glamorous European places where men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns played strange cards games for extravagent sums of money.

The casino I went to this week wasn't like that. Instead of being on the French Riveria, the River Winds Casino is just south of Norman, Oklahoma on I-35. Instead of men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns, the required attire seemed to be sweatshirts. And rather than exotic cards games for extravagent sums, people played penny and nickel slot machines.

It happened to be Senior Day at the River Winds. Seniors were lined up to collect $10 each for being over 65. This is an effective promotion as there were a fair number of seniors. There were FAR more overweight people, however. I'm not sure WHAT day is Obese Day at the casino, but as far as I can tell it must be every day.

The passing coctail waitress, addressing the entire aisle, belted out, "Hey, anybody wanna drink?" Even James Bond wouldn't have hollared back, "Yeah, martini, shaken not stirred."

And if gambling, drinking and gluttony aren't ENOUGH sins, the casino also allows smoking. I didn't think you could smoke anywhere inside in the U.S. anymore. Even pubs in England have outlawed it. But you can still light up at the River Winds Casino and I have the red eyes to prove it.

I was fortunate enough to be in the company of two of the classiest seniors in Oklahoma, my mother and my mother-in-law. The three of us ate a very nice and affordable lunch at a sports bar there named after some famous athlete of whom I've neve heard. (The world is full of famous athletes of whom I've never heard. I would do better if bars were named after famous Broadway musicals.)

Afterwards, my mom and I spent about half an hour blowing a total of $2 on the slot machines. I was saved from further losses by my contact lenses which were demanding fresh air. So we not-so-high-rollers headed for the stadium-sized parking lot and took off in our late model Lincoln. (The Aston Martin DB5s must have been in the shop.)