So yesterday, I accomplished quite a herculean feat. Against all odds and public opinion, I somehow managed to pass my driving test and get my license. Finally, I have won my freedom; the freedom to aimlessly roam around the state, subject only to my own predilections. I am no longer a prisoner of my parent's subjugation but an autonomous adult, able to make my own decisions and my own plans. I spent yesterday wandering from house to house, enjoying the august feeling that comes from being a neophyte driver. I watched their younger eyes glaze over me, transfixed with the idea that someone just a little older can drive them around.
There are a few small hurdles in my grand plans. The first one is the fact that I do not have a car. Since I will never be allowed to touch the precious Subaru, this leaves me with the lovely Bertha (also nicknamed Landshark, Roxy, or Big Mama). Bertha is a five year old Toyota minivan, and she is every teenager's dream (ha). Serving only to take me down a notch, driving her is like driving a truck, and parking her is even more fun. However, I do not mean to make jejune complaints, because I am grateful for the fact that I have a car to drive in.
There is a slightly larger problem to my dream of finally having acheived freedom. Think of it as a slight foible in my character. I really am not a great driver. This is hard for me to admit, but I feel I must be ingenuous before anyone gets into Bertha with me. I used to be utterly careless, adding twenty to every speed limit and frequently cutting other drivers off. However, since my mother got in an accident over the summer, I am much more cautious but still no better. I'm impatient; unable to tolerate red lights or stop signs for long periods of time. It effects my life negatively in various ways, but it has never been more evident than when I am driving.
So for now, until I improve, I am resigned to reconnoiter only nearby towns, unable to venture onto highways. This is not a deterant as much as a roadblock; merely redirecting me to other destinations. The fact that I have a license at all is still a shock to me, and I'm still getting used to the idea that I no longer have to walk. And I end this blog here to joyride with Bertha, because I have a feeling it will never get old.
4 comments:
Woww...
"I watched their younger eyes glaze over me, transfixed with the idea that someone just a little older can drive them around."
...I hate you.
Chloe! You only have one more month! And lucky for you, you have a cooler car than big old Bertha so you can make fun of Sam...
And by the way Sam, I was not transfixed with the idea that someone older than me could drive me around because I was too busy holding on for dear life in fear of dying.
HEY! You both survived!
barely.
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