Today was a pretty great day. First off, I woke up chilly. CHILLY! In August. In Virginia. Amazing. I also hit up the farmers market and bought 4lbs of beautiful fruit for $5.
But the really delicious and gooey icing on the cake was unveiled later in the afternoon. My dad and I decided to go for a run on the Parkway, and as I walked into the garage, he asked me if I wanted to drive...his perfectly red and sporty Z4 BMW convertible. I remember when he bought it years ago around Thanksgiving, and we immediately christened it "The Sleigh." It only took Santa one trip down the snow-slick block to never drive it in inclement weather again, but it's still called The Sleigh to this day (rhyme?). Once I got my license, I very distinctly recall asking daddio when I'd be allowed to drive it, and I was told ten years. Perhaps it was my naivety, or maybe it was my inability to drive stick, but I believed him. I thought I would be married before I was allowed to drive that reindeer-less carriage. I never minded being dropped off or picked up from school, though. Heck, I still don't. I don't even care if the top is down, my hair looks (pre-wildly windblown) good, and I have a hot date...and for some reason I have to be dropped off? Awkward. The point is, that car is awesome, and I've always wanted to drive it.
Once I got over my giddy excitement, I was a little bit hesitant to reverse out of the garage. Of all the young suitors who've taken me out to mall parking lots, school parking lots, or Wal-Mart lots to show me the ropes and make a date out of it, not a single one ever taught me how to go backwards. I couldn't figure out how to move the shift-switcher...gear?...stick shift?...far enough to the left, so dad had to help with that part. It took about five minutes to back out
v e r y s l o w l y so as to not hurt the pretty car, and dad got a little impatient. FINALLY I pulled into the street- ! -and I stalled. Whoops. I was a little rusty and nervous, considering that the last time I drove a manual car I almost hit a mailbox...I admit it, ok? After stalling out one more time (ok..maybe two or three), I only had to remind dad four times that it had been yearssss since driving stick.
Ho ho ho, Merry August!