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.

Drifting to the next level

Finally, I have my learner’s permit. I got it yesterday on 34th street, Harold Square. I'm not sure why I waited so long to do something so simple. Myabe it was because I didn't want to give part of my soul to the D.M.V.
In addition to making you wait an inordinate amount of time, the D.M.V. sets you up for an odyssey. Fortunately, I wore my Berkenstocks, so I was ready for anything. I got out without any scrapes or bruises but the friend I went with wasn't so luckey. He ended having quite an odyssey. He didn't not get to take the written test at the same time as me because he didn’t have any I.D. with proof of age. Apparently, even though your state I.D. has your birthday on it and counts for all 6 points of identification, it doesn’t actually prove your age to the D.M.V. even though they're the ones who gave it to you! Go figure. If only he had been a member of the Mohawk tribe of Canada and had his membership card and birth certificate. He would have been set. Instead, he called his dad to bring him his passport. And did you know that your permit costs money? Those miserable curs charged me $58! The dumbest charge on my recipt was for "photo documentation retrieval", which consisted of the person giving me my permit to copy and paste the photo taken for state I.D. three years ago. My friend "Jason the Argonot" happened to finished his test and get his number right when their credid card machines went down, so he had to get out of line, go downstairs, finde a cash machine, go back upstairs, get a new number and wait to pay for his permit.
When I came home with the flimsy slip of paper that represented my temporary permit, I wanted to post it on the refrigerator. I haven’t been so proud of a piece of paper since elementary school. I settled for tacking it to my bulletin board.
Now, I embark on the epic search for driving classes. I’m not feeling too daunted. I’m sure my days will look like this-> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2IWxqvsSY8 in no time.

Drive Me Crazy

In true New York style, I don’t know how to drive. People always think I'm joking when i tell them this. It seems crazy but it’s true. As a resident in a city with the least amount of parking and one of the best public transportation systems in the world, it was just completely unnecessary to learn. Also, there never seemed to be any time to study, take the test then driving lessons. I’m determined now, though, to at least get my permit by the end of the summer. It’s a lofty goal, I think. Okay, not really. Most people are able to do it in a summer. The problem is that I’m super lazy. Yes, I’m quite the human sloth. It’s been a pretty big deal that I’ve decided to get a gym membership and study for the G.R.E., which I’ll be taking August 22nd. I scheduled that date a while ago knowing that if I scheduled it, I would force myself to study.
Today I got a call from a friend, one who, like me, can’t drive. He told me, “By the way, we’re you need to do something with me. We need to go to the D.M.V. and take this test…” So, apparently I’m talking my permit test on August 7th. Now that it’s scheduled, I guess I’ll force myself to study. Wish me luck and drive safe; I may be on the road soon.