I love to drive. The freedom behind the wheel, windows down, wind in your hair, Josh Groban on the radio, you know how it goes. There is something so wonderful about it, and I’d like to say I’m a great driver but I gotta tell you, I am mediocre at best. I don’t know how I discovered how bad I am at driving, maybe it’s the way friends have told me they “get car sick” when they ride with me, or when passengers go into fight or flight mode when I come to a stop and grab onto whatever they can to stay alive. Either way, my skills or lack thereof have become apparent.

In general, I speed. I believe the speed limit is a kind suggestion but I like to break boundaries, have fun with it. If I am behind you and you are going the speed limit or under, I will follow you pretty close. I will get right up on you and let you know I am there. I realize it probably isn’t too intimidating for drivers I follow to look back and see I’m just some young gal in a pair of sunshades kinda bopping around and no, I shouldn’t follow so close but hey, at least I’m not denying it. I’m sure if other people see my car out on the road and see me zipping in and out of lanes, they drive next to me expecting to see some 16-year-old kid with one hand on the wheel, eating onion rings and shotgunning a Gatorade and instead they see me. How weird that must be.

The first time I realized maybe I wasn’t awesome at the driving thing was in high school. I drove a big old Jimmy (a scarier version of a Blazer), and it sort of made squeaking noises when I would use the breaks and it had no right side mirror but things were going well. I took my sister out for a spin and a trip to Walgreens one day. You know those parking lots are a tight squeeze to begin with, add an oversized car and an overconfident average driver and the situation is going to get out of hand. I whipped into the parking lot and attempted to get into a spot. Suddenly we heard a huge thud and I realized what I had done. While I was attempting to park, I nailed the car in the spot next to me. I did a seven-point turn and got myself into the spot, got out and casually went on my way. Meanwhile, my little sister was bawling, crying to me asking if there are cameras that could see the hit and run I just was involved in and worrying the police would take us away. In hindsight, I should have been way more worried than I was. We got our Walgreen’s items, hopped back in the car and drove away. Not a shining moment of mine.

I’ve never been in an accident, only small blunders with myself. There was one kinda snowy day where I fishtailed on a busy street and off of the road into what I then called a ditch but in reality was just a small dip next to the road where a sidewalk was. When the adrenaline kicked in I kind of blacked out and don’t remember how it happened, it happened so fast. I sat in this “ditch” for half an hour crying thinking maybe I had passed away but luckily I came to my senses and just drove out of the “ditch.” Worse than that was the second time I had a weather related issue. I fishtailed a separate time and instead of ending up on the side of the road, I did the worst thing I could have. Once I began to spin out of control, rather than pumping the breaks which I guess is the right thing to do, I floored it on the gas and ended up going off the road and driving 30 feet up a hill into a church yard. I had to call my dad to drive me down this hill and I have to tell you, once we were back on the road, that was the longest drive of my life. Pops was not pleased.

I think other than my casual hit and runs, driving and fishtailing constantly or even the countless times I have shown my aggression towards fellow drivers while driving (including verbally and physically showing it to a family in a mini-van) I’m not too bad behind the wheel. Yeah I could take it a bit slower, leave some room between me and the car in front of me. I could inform the next person whose car I hit at a Walgreen’s parking lot and I could refrain from flipping off a stay-at-home mom and her troop of Girl Scouts in the back seat. I have things to work on and I’ll work on them, but I’ll say it all will probably happen again.