Test Number 4

I ONLY WENT AND PASSED DIDN'T I?!

This is 2015

My first blog of the year. In February. Clearly one of my Resolutions was not "Write blog better and more frequently."
In fact they are only two:

1. Pass driving test. As an update I tried again and failed again. This time I was robbed. If only that examiner had held his nerve for a millisecond I'd be able to check this one off by now. As it is...third time lucky?
2. Tell people how I feel. Good/bad/whatever. Avoid being "fine." Say no when I don't want to do something. Share. In real life, not just via blog. 

Yes only two, but two difficult ones. I have been attempting the second my entire life. Of course, when I say 'attempting' what I really mean is saying I intend to be like that and remaining a wuss. Is that how you spell wuss? Looks weird.

But 2015 is cracking so far. I actually got an email on New Years Day saying I'd won the lottery. £25. Winning! 

But it's not all about winning the lottery (although fingers crossed- I got driving lessons to pay for). In fact it pales into insignificance besides the other stuff that's coming. Here's a five best of for the year (in no particular order). I was going to do 10 but I don't want to make you jealous or nuffink:

1. A month in USA- New York, San Francisco, Vegas (Baby!) and a three week trek though bear infested mountains, carrying the weight in food and gear of a 10 year old child on my back. Outdoor sleeping, cold lake swimming, space and trail dancing.
2. Wilbur. You know who you are kid!
3. Bridesmaid duty for a beautiful and beautifully silly couple.
4. More time for things I like. Choosing when to work and when to play, and when work can feel like play.
5. Being able to drive. Because, damn it, it's going to happen next time. 

This seems to be a blog of short lists. What other list should I write? Things I learnt last year. GO!

1. Always chain the wheels of Isadora to the frame when I leave her.
2. Don't leave Willie Nelson alone with either socks, toilet paper or important documents.
3. Drink Barocca.
4. Have a fully stocked biscuit tin.
5. I don't like strangers. I especially don't like dating strangers. Strange strange strange.
6. Don't turn left at a roundabout if you aren't in the left lane. People don't like it.
7. If in doubt, quote The Jabberwocky at people, it confuses them.

OK, I made up number 7. I wanted seven things because it's my favourite number. But, I mean, try it anyway. I bet it's good advice.

Driving Test

Today was the day: Driving Test Day. I'm going to put you out of your misery right now and tell you that I failed. Spectacularly. And no, I am not exaggerating. "Spectacularly" is not my choice, but the actual word the examiner used. Is it odd that I find it comforting that it was so bad? At least I'm spectacular, even if I am a failure.


Honestly, in my life I have only ever failed one thing: my Grade 2 piano, by 4 marks when I was about 9 or 10. I immediately gave up piano lessons and denied I'd ever taken the thing. It's always been an such irritating stain on my clean record and it still pains me to think about it. 4 marks!! The rest were great marks and glory.


Not to say nothing ever goes wrong and I'm completely brilliant at everything. This blog is evidence of that. At life I occasionally fail miserably. But at exams I can, quite without pride or smugness, say that I'm pretty good, damn it and (Grade 2 aside) I have the certificates to prove it.


But this is a "Spectacular Failure" and I'm claiming it to prove I don't mind. Not at all. Nope.


I had a feeling this would happen. I told everyone it would happen beforehand. My first driving instructor wasn't so good, it turns out. In four months he didn't teach me any manoeuvres, and browsed the internet while I was having my lessons. He also occasionally beeped other drivers. At the time I didn't think anything of it but these maybe aren't great things. He was a brilliant guide to the pubs of North London though and he once showed me a super cute Youtube video of a Gorilla being reunited with a man he grew up with.


Eventually we parted ways for non of the above reasons. The final straw was that he had an even worse immune system than me so I kept catching colds from him. I was allergic to him.


I took my theory test alone instead and booked an intensive course. It's much nicer, after all, to drive in Wales than London.


Two weeks ago I called Tia, my new instructor. When I told her my experience I could hear the doubt in her voice. She only had four days to prepare me. Eeek! That's when I knew...


I did have a lesson in London before the intensive. After this lesson I wanted to cry a little bit because the teacher was so good. If only it had been someone competent from the start. However, I resolved to work hard and found myself in a car with Tia for 5-6 hours a day this week and it went well actually. I like driving. I understand what I need to do. It all feels fairly intuitive.


And today, when I had some last minute practise it all started to go wrong. Stupid things. Stalling. Getting reference points mixed up. But Tia said I should be able to pass if I was calm. She told me she'd kick me if I failed. My flatmates told me I wasn't allowed back in the house unless I passed. Oh Dear God, I'm homeless. With a bruised shin. And no license.


The examiner used to be a rally driver. We had a lovely chat until it all went wrong.


Eye test: fine.
Show me/tell me: fine.
Leaving test centre: fine.
Pull over: fine.
Independent driving: started off OK I think. And then...


Tom: "And what is the speed limit here?"
Me: "National...?"
Tom: "Right."
Me: *Speeds up an extra 15mph*
Tom: "Great, at the end of the road turn left."
Me:*Pulls into right hand lane and indicates right*
Tom: "Jess, why are you indicating right?"
Me: "Ermm..." *Switches to indicating left. Remains in right hand lane as approaches the roundabout. Loses all sense of direction and sanity*
Tom: ...
Me: *Takes the left exit despite there being a car on my left*
Tom: *Gives wave of thanks to traumatised driver*
Me: "Well that was a bit hairy..."


Later I did an entire 3 point turn with my handbrake on then drove off with it still on. When I realised, I stopped on a corner to take it off. So stupid. Still only about halfway through the test.


At the end he told me I got no faults for the rest of the time. I already knew I'd failed so I wasn't nervous anymore. And I'd got more than enough in the first half. 18 minors, 3 majors, one of which was "serious." So not even just a major fault, more a Brigadier General. Ouch.


OUCH!


I could only laugh a little hysterically and try and find my head that I had temporarily lost.


BUT!!! When he said "now, you know what I'm going to tell you to do next?" and I answered "Yes, never drive again" he said "No not at all. I can tell you now you are actually a natural driver and probably much better than all of these other people taking their tests. Just get some more experience and confidence."


And the ability to tell the difference between left and right perhaps.


Spectacular.

Driving lessons

Oh dear, it has been a while hasn't it? Two months into the year and only one blog. Terrible.
However, I am sticking with the theme of transportation and moving from bikes to cars. That's right, I'm learning to drive.
The aim is to be roadworthy by the end of the year (preferably September), and that seems like a long time and a small fortune on driving lessons. However I think, considering it's me and I'm hardly the most confident road user, too many lessons are better than not quite enough. My main problems seem to be realising how wide the car and the road are. I'm so used to only navigating my midget frame through the world that I don't trust at all that a car will fit through any gap narrower than the full road. Oncoming buses are not good for my nerves.
Neither are the pedestrians. Especially pram pushing pedestrians who walk out into the road without looking. It's like they have a death wish for their babies.
On the bright side, once I've mastered the art of the near miss, I'll be so London savvy I will be able to drive anywhere.
You'll be pleased to know that it's all going well. Yesterday I zoomed along at a healthy national speed limit pace, I skirted the M25, I took on several roundabouts, including the one that I once navigated my mum around the wrong way (wrong lane not anticlockwise- I'm not that stupid).  I told her to follow a brown car that didn't exist and gave entirely useless information like "that way!"
Maybe I did freak out on one roundabout. It was all wrong. I tried to start in forth gear, forgot how to steer and lost the clutch in one fell swoop. Kevin, my instructor (highly recommended) pretty much had to drive me out of it from the passenger seat.
I don't know what came over me, except that it sounded like a feeble whimper. I can only assume I was briefly possessed.
My driving career did not start in a very promising manner. I had a couple of lessons when I was 17 but all I remember about them was putting the visor down with both hands as I approached a roundabout. That instructor quit soon after, oddly, although I'm sure I wasn't the real cause.
And then there is the volvo-gate for which I would like to issue a public apology. It was during a road trip to Scotland that my friend offered me a tiny driving lesson. Her parents' car, which we had borrowed was automatic so it was a go/stop kind of affair. Being the cautious person I am, I initially refused the lap of the car park, but my excitement won out and five minutes later I had successfully driven in a circle and arrived back in the parking space. Hurrah!
Then I had a second go. And for some reason, as I was pulling into the space a second time, my friend obviously thought I wasn't stopping quickly enough. Probably she was right but I was basically just rolling into the spot. So when she said "and stop...Stop!" I panicked and put my foot on the brake.
Except that it wasn't the brake.
Duel control would have been very useful in this situation, however the car did bump into the wall and the number plate came off. I'm assured this was pretty much the extent of the damage but at the time I was convinced it was awful and I was going to have to buy a new car.
To add insult to injury, the other friend on the road trip was filming the whole thing: Jess's first driving lesson. So somewhere, hopefully never to be seen, is footage of the whole sorry fiasco.
Friend's lovely parents only recently found out what really happened. Friend told them she had done it when a lonely sheep had wandered out into the road. Naturally.
So I'm very sorry about that and I dedicate this blog to you both. I promise next time I crash a car it will not be yours, and I will be fully licensed and insured. I love you. (Too far?)
But now it's going well. Kevin actually says I'm above average, which I suspect may be to bolster my confidence, but I choose to believe him. It certainly helps that I now know which pedal is stop and which is go.