Maybe I should just cut my ear off...

When my parents came to drop off the rest of my junk, my dad bought me sunflowers. Sunflowers are without a doubt one of my favorite kinds of flowers. I love that they have no scent, not because I don't like the scent of flowers, but because it just seems very defiant of them. I love big and hefty they are; their stems are like branches!
Sadly, the sunflowers are beginning to wilt. I can't help but think that if I had just been a little more attentive to them, if I had given them more water, sooner, they would be a bit healthier. Granted, these flowers are over a week old, but I still wish they could last a bit longer. All in all, it's a bit depressing.

Traffic Update

My driving lessons with Pa have been progressing. Today was my fourth time driving with my dad since I got my learners permit. He dared to suggest I actually try to drive on actual roads in the Bronx. What is he, CRAZY? As soon as putting my foot on the gas, I would have instantaneously crapped my pants. No, no. I decided to keep to the conveniently constructed driving course at the Whitestone Cinemas. Allow me to explain just how massive the parking lot to this place is; it used to be a drive-in theater with THREE SCREENS. There are no less than five stop signs and four speed bumps. What kind of extreme parking are they expecting to go on here? Not that I mind. This works really well to set up many different driving situations. There is some random company there, though. In addition to the few matinee movie-goers we encounter at 10 in the morning, yesterday there were two fire trucks testing their hoses and ladders. Today there was some random dude sitting on the side of the road eating pancakes.
What makes the experience a bit more enjoyable and makes me feel like less of a looser for not knowing how to drive is that there are ALWAYS other people learning how to drive there. It’s kind of a rite of passage for anyone who grew up here; when you learn to drive, you go to the Whitestone.
I was particularly proud of myself for being able to parallel park today. We used giant plastic garbage bins as stand-ins for cars. Granted, my dad was shouting instructions at me from outside the car, but I did it! I’m thinking next week I’ll be ready for real, honest to God, New York City roads.

Driving me up a wall

Like many other fathers of daughters, I think my dad stopped knowing what to do with me the day I started wearing a bra. He really has no idea how to interact with me in any normal every day situation. He either treats me like a toddler or a potential rape victim. There exists no in between where I'm a real person. There used to be only one way we could ever bond: action movies. I love action movies, as does he, and watching one together is one of the few ways we're able to be in each other's company for several hours in a row. With my new driving permit, though, I've found a new way for us to interact together: driving.

Since I got my permit last week, my dad has been teaching me to drive. He's pretty good at it. He's a post man, so he actually drives a truck for a living every day. He's the person who taught me mom to drive when they were first dating. It's one of the few times, I've noticed, that he's able to treat me as a novice, as a normal person rather than a role. It's nice. Maybe we'll both grow through this experience.