L's World 2: My first driving lesson

My lovely mate Helen has been waiting forever to put me in the drivers seat and I have been procrastinating forever to avoid it.

But 2 July 2006, aged 26 years, 3 months and two days, just over 11 years from the time I passed my learner's licence test in New Zealand, I am behind the wheel. Earlier in the week the cheesiest smile I've had in years was firmly implanted into a piece of green plastic, and I am licenced (again). Herrahhh. I know its lame but I just can't help but pulling it out of my wallet at parties.

2pm came and I had to seriously kiss templeton goodbye properly before we left the house just in case its the last time I'll ever see him and the cats ever again... I was prepared to reck the shit out of Helen's car either by underestimating myself or over estimating myself.

The first time the car moved all happend too quickly for me. We were in a driveway of a factory (closed on sunday ofcourse) and there were two walls on either side which looked like they were running into me rather than the other way round. My shyness and brashness collided between my feet and the pedals. What the hell am I suppose to do? I press to light and the car doesn't move, and I press to hard it gets grumpy and as if it would shoot out of the driveway 200 Ks an hour... Stalling the car is like having a pretty violent hickup and I was told promptly that it would be a fact of life for the next few months. And what the fuck is with the crazy handbreaks - its like having too many veto powers in a democracy. Hearing my heart pound and my own fast panting while being completely stationary reminded me of the last time I was in an operating theatre on local anasthetics - using up fat stores without moving an inch. Finally upgrading from the laneway to the open road was a mixture of feeling daunted yet eager. Not sure if its an Asian thing or not but keeping to the left is actually quite difficult... and crossing paths with another L driver was a bit of hoot - neither of us were mentally or physically capable of acknowledging one another with eye contact or a friendly jesture to say "hey man, we rock."

It was like losing my religion. Full of uncertainty, letting go of the comforts I knew all my life up till today, grasping that bit of courage, forgetting the shame. So assuring, liberating, bursting through. Not ever going back.