Foot To The Floor!

Hello, 

Pulling into my road after my driving lesson on Friday evening I felt OK about the last couple of hours handling lots of town driving and weekend traffic. Conducting a near perfect parallel park outside my little flat I turned off the engine and took my Ugg-clad feet off the pedals and relaxed. 
"So where was it that you went for the operation?" My instructor asked me. Confused I worried what he was on about. I mean I had a bandage on my arm where I had my Implant replaced the following evening, but I wasn't sure what he meant by that statement. 
"I'm sorry I am not sure I understand?" I asked timidly. 
"Well that's the best I have seen you drive. Ever! So where was the personality transplant done?" My Instructor replied, chuckling to himself. Thankfully I took a sigh of relief and explained that I thought things had been a bit jittery on the pedal control since I was wearing heavy winter boots with thick soles but my instructor reassured me and said that I should probably start calling them my 'Lucky Boots'. We talked for another few moments about my upcoming test and what it would entail. Suddenly I realised that my actual real-life driving test was in a matter of weeks. Six-weeks and three days to be precise. And yes, I am crapping myself. 

I am honestly actually looking forward to it, even though it has come round so fast. I am stunned at how quickly I have learnt everything. I mean granted I still cannot bay-park for shit, but I figure that we will get better in time with that one, but all the manoeuvres I was dreading; Emergency stop, Reverse round a corner and Parallel parking I am all fairly OK with but for some odd reason I have got worse as time goes on with my bay-parking. It feels like only yesterday I was getting in the car for the first time and being pleased that I had driven home or that I pulled out onto a busy road for the first time, now I am less than two-months from finding out whether I have passed my test or not. Eeeek!

I am not expecting to pass first time. I mean obviously it would be a bonus for me as I wouldn't have to shell out another sixty-something-quid in order to retake my test but I acknowledge that realistically the odds will be forever stacked against my favour. An average of seventy-percent of people taking their driving test for the first time will fail, according to my instructor anyway, so the likelihood of me failing is slightly inevitable. My Father always taught me one good thing at least and that was that if I set myself up for failure and prepare for all the horror that it brings, anything else will be a bonus. I suppose in a squaddie sort of way it makes sense, I'm just hoping I have taken everything on board and get a pass first time!

Something else that I will have to consider is if I should bring my instructor along for my test itself. It would be my choice on the day if I wanted him there, watching me from the back seats of my White Beema. (Which I have since hugged, knowing now that it will be the very same car I take my Exam in. I don't know why, I just thought examiners had their own testing cars?) I am erring on the side of caution here as I would prefer for obvious reasons not to be judged by two people, one whom I have come to know rather well, but also I am thinking about some of the things my instructor said to me on Friday evening after my lesson. He explained that not only does he like to become familiar with the body language and conducts of a Driving Exam but also what roads they take so he can show and practise with other learners. He also talked through the interesting fact that once an examiner has finished and is making their decision on whether I am a road-worthy person, if for any reason the examiner is unsure on whether I am capable of certain situations or is unsure of how I handled what happened during my forty-minute Exam, my instructor was right there in the back seats of the vehicle so can judge as well for himself how I handled it, either agreeing or disagreeing with the examiner. In a small way having my instructor in the car with me may be a plus point since if I was to handle a manoeuvre or road situation poorly or less than satisfactory then at least my instructor could explain that in actual fact I had done that move or street a billion times before and I had been fine with it, reassuring the examiner that is was simple nerves or anxiety that slipped me up. Nevertheless this is all a few weeks away and many more lessons so I am not too thoughtful of it yet.

You know what else is only a few weeks away? The kids going back to feckin' school - Well yes, and no I cannot yet sympathise the pain and torture of Peppa Pig on repeat but I am sure I will some day. No its soon going to be my birthday. Urgh! A whole twenty-five years on this planet. That's more than a quarter of my possible lifetime already gone. Poof! Disappeared! But it would seem as though I simply cannot wait until my Alice in Wonderland inspired thirtieth Birthday Party. I want one now. So why not. Well the answer is that in all fairness I couldn't think of any reasoning not to have one, apart from the money it would cost me. I need to be careful though as Mr. Warehouse has only just got a permanent and full-time role so we will be going a few weeks with little money so I need to go easy on the plans. Maybe we shall save the Flamingos and fireworks for my twenty-sixth? 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

One down - One to go!

Hiya!

What is it with Monday's lately that seem to transcend into utter malfunctioning, chaotic, alcohol-after-work-inducing messes that leave me questioning my own self worth?! Today life has hit a new low and I think it is time something was done about it. So with wine glass in hand I shall begin to fumble through the aftermath of the last week. 

So revision has been in place for my Driving Theory Test for some weeks now and after attending the last examination I had in Milton Keynes and failing (no improvements on life since I will have you know), I had since booked my retest at the centre in Luton, simply because it was more convenient and had closer dates. So as I got ready for my test on Saturday morning and ran through some scenario question types in my head I pondered as to whether this would be the day. I was fairly confident and since I couldn't recall the last time I got a single mock test wrong or low score on my Hazard Perception tests I had been practising on, and so Grabbing at my new fave hot Starbs Bevvy - A sweet Chai latte with cream - I headed for my train and began to hit up some more revision. 

Making my way to the test centre through the greying buildings of Luton town centre, I was thinking how wonderful it will feel when it starts to rain and I am in my little car, laughing at all the Bus Wankers along the way! Stepping inside the reception areas I could tell that the centre in Luton was much more relaxed and laid back, as I handed over my photocard and locked my things away I was then lead to the small cubicles and off I went. Checking and rechecking the questions I knew I was sketchy on a few of them, just fingers crossed it was enough. Flying through my Hazard Perception section I answered some customer service questions on the process of learning to drive and left the room quietly. 

Thanking the lady for the sheet of A4 with my results on it I folded it and left, hoping not to be seeing her again under these circumstances. Shoving the paper to the bottom of my Pink Ted Baker and heading back out into the sopping rain, I did wonder where that spa day of mine could have got to and when I was due to meet my Father and his girlfriend for lunch. After an hour or so of window shopping, most of it spent in LUSH trying out lip stains, body butters and exfoliators, I rushed to meet for lunch and settling into the pub atmosphere I spent a rare moment alone with my Dad. Giving me a cuddle and telling me he missed me was nice, but the moment was marred slightly by asking to see my results. 

Something about me felt good about it this time, but that feeling was also there last time too. "Oh Jesus!" I said out loud as I opened the folded paper. Reading through the results I finally got to the point we had all been holding our breath for ... I passed! I chuffing passed my mother-trunking, ball-licking Driving Theory Test! Oh dear lordy lord I dont have to do that again! Well as long as I pass within the next two years I don't! Thank fuck for that!

Settling down with my proud Papa and G.F we ate lunch and sipped on a celebratory glass of wine before heading home, although not before a short stop at the hospital to see my Nanny Pumpkin whom had just had an operation on her foot. She's fine, just tickled by the fact I thought the Iodine on her leg was actually fake tan! Costa-Del-NHS anyone?

Asking about the potential new job, Nanny Pumpkin had asked how it was all going and what was on the horizon. Well at the time there was not much of an update but sadly to say I will not be moving any time soon. Indeed after last weeks post I had indeed applied and ended up having an interview however there was someone better suited to the role and thus I was pipped to the post by someone better than me, although I cant see how - I'm Fabulous!!! Nevertheless there shall be no hard feelings about the role between any of us working there however it has made me realise that maybe there is more to life? But that can be potentially be put on the back burner for the time being, at least until I get a car anyway. 

So glad I have finally passed that bastard of an exam. One down - One to go!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Driving Me Crazy!

Morning everyone, 

Summer. It happens for roughly half a year, much less however if you live somewhere like here in England, and as the days become longer and the nights become shorter (Seems to remind me of some 'emo' lyrics I once used to probably blare out of my teenage room as I applied yet another layer of eye-liner) I finally get the sense that holidays, bikini's and BBQ's are mere moments away. But how will I get to all these places? For I, a twenty-three year old career women, has still never even sat behind a wheel of a car let alone driven one!

Yes as hard as it is to imagine I have still not even applied for my provisional licence yet let alone sat my theory test. I know, I know - I need to get onto it, but in all fairness I have had other things more important to take up my time over the past few years like failing relationships, finding a secure job and managing to keep a roof over my head and all between juggling a life of friends, partying and college education. And so now is the time. I have finally decided that whilst my finances at the moment wont quite stretch to a car I should at least get myself onto the road. And by that I don't mean just go and lye down on the rough tarmac of the lane I live. No, I am going to get my bike licence!

Ever since I was seventeen I have wanted to learn to drive and pass my test. I knew from an early age I wanted my first car to be a cute little red Nissan Micra, four doors and a cute little dashboard, complete with an array of ornaments and toys. It just seems appropriate. People have asked me why that car, and not something different and my answer is always simple - Whenever I draw a car that is the car I draw, it is usually red and always has four doors, for the principle that three doors is just inconvenient not only for the driver but also for passengers as well. Ahh, and the name would be something like 'Poppy' or 'Rosie' - because you need to name your car!? Who doesn't?!

The unfortunate thing is that 'Poppy' or 'Rosie' will never make it to existence (at least not for the near future anyway) as whilst my job pays well, it doesn't pay well enough to run a one-bedroom flat and a car. If I was living with someone else such as a friend or a partner whom was contributing then sure I might be able to afford it but I wouldn't be able to trust that other person and their financial input. I did it before and look where that got me - A whole heap of heartache that's what! Besides, if and when that person does eventually move out (or leave) then that leaves me in yet another sticky situ that I don't fancy finding myself in again. I mean I could always go back to my second job for a while, but the thing is, on-top of my £700.00 a month in household running costs including my rent at £400.00, I would have to be working at the call centre permanently in order to afford to run my little  'Poppy' or 'Rosie'. So in effect I would be working constantly and have a car, but couldn't go anywhere as I would be working all the hours god, or any other religious figure would give me. 

In a way it is frustrating that I would be able to save up the money to pay for driving lessons, buy a provisional, pass my test, purchase and insure a car - just not able to run it on a weekly basis. So if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. In turn, if my job cannot pay well enough for me to run a car then maybe something smaller and less costly would still tick my boxes without making me live in one. Which is why I have come to the conclusion of learning how to ride a motorbike. It will be cheaper, more cost effective and essentially only lasts two-years at the end of which I have the choice to learn to drive properly or to default for another couple o' years. Its the push I think I need. I have recently in the past couple of years purchased bicycles and had rode them to and from town, now I think upgrading slightly to a motor vehicle with a licence plate rather than a basket on the front will make me more road savvy, attentive and cautious. I think that when I do come to finally sit my driving test I will be both knowledgeable about the roads as well as forgiving to other road users, including motorcyclists. 

I plan to start saving soon and will start working at the call centre for a few weeks in order to fund it. Hopefully in the space of six-weeks or so I will be on the road, albeit with my 'L' plates still in tact but nevertheless free from the painful waiting at train platforms and bus stops. Ever the "Bus Wanker" ... I think not!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx