Aquajock
Cathlete
One of my few guilty, mortifying little secrets is the fact that I don't drive. At all. No driver's license, no skill with a car; DH has had to be my chauffeur for the past 14+ years and it was either that, the bus, or A-Jock Stays Home. I'll admit I had, and probably still have, a near-phobia about driving; it seems that as the years have gone by the driving scene has gotten more discourteous, distracted, drunk and dangerous. However, as I sidle up to age 47, I've finally come to now with the reality that NOT being able to drive is probably as dangerous - not to mention inconvenient for DH and my friends - as lack of any other adult life skill.
This past Friday I took the bus (natch) from my office right into the heart of south Minneapolis where there was a service center to take my driver's knowledge test. Folks, it almost killed me. I had studied that painfully boring little driver's manual for weeks, groaning all the way through 30 feet behind this and 200 feet behind that and no right turn on red except on Tuesdays and whatever-the-hell. At the testing center, I was the only adult female my age who wasn't wearing a Somali hijab, which did wonders for my self-esteem. And, after touching a monitor with my answers THIRTY-SEVEN FREAKIN' TIMES (it felt like a hundred) . . .
I PASSED!!!!! 86% of the answers right. Not bad for a Baldie.
Sooooooooooo . . . today being an absolutely glorious, rain-free day, DH selected the empty parking lot of a now-bankrupt car dealership and associated gas station (which is a tad Freudian, now that I think about it), got us there, and I had my first lesson in driving an actual, no-sh*t, rolling and braking car. Thankfully, car technology has progressed a bit in the 25+ years since I last drove a vehicle ( one that was one step up from a horse and trap) - we own a late 2007 Buick Lucerne that is one step down from a Star Trek shuttlecraft and practically drives itself. And you know what? I drove that little (big) bugger for 37 minutes and didn't make any mistakes!
*go me*
Wish me luck in this new ventures, my friends in fitness! Just don't ask me to parallel park. I'm waiting until we can afford one of those Lexuses (Lexi?) that does that automatically for you.
Thanks for reading!
A-Jock
This past Friday I took the bus (natch) from my office right into the heart of south Minneapolis where there was a service center to take my driver's knowledge test. Folks, it almost killed me. I had studied that painfully boring little driver's manual for weeks, groaning all the way through 30 feet behind this and 200 feet behind that and no right turn on red except on Tuesdays and whatever-the-hell. At the testing center, I was the only adult female my age who wasn't wearing a Somali hijab, which did wonders for my self-esteem. And, after touching a monitor with my answers THIRTY-SEVEN FREAKIN' TIMES (it felt like a hundred) . . .
I PASSED!!!!! 86% of the answers right. Not bad for a Baldie.
Sooooooooooo . . . today being an absolutely glorious, rain-free day, DH selected the empty parking lot of a now-bankrupt car dealership and associated gas station (which is a tad Freudian, now that I think about it), got us there, and I had my first lesson in driving an actual, no-sh*t, rolling and braking car. Thankfully, car technology has progressed a bit in the 25+ years since I last drove a vehicle ( one that was one step up from a horse and trap) - we own a late 2007 Buick Lucerne that is one step down from a Star Trek shuttlecraft and practically drives itself. And you know what? I drove that little (big) bugger for 37 minutes and didn't make any mistakes!
*go me*
Wish me luck in this new ventures, my friends in fitness! Just don't ask me to parallel park. I'm waiting until we can afford one of those Lexuses (Lexi?) that does that automatically for you.
Thanks for reading!
A-Jock