Aw, fudge.

Mmmm, fudge sounds goooooood.
I took my driver's test today...aaaaaaaand it didn't go so well.
It wasn't even like, "Oh, you missed it by this much!" I failed miserably.
And I knew it.
First thing on the test: PARALLEL PARKING.
I'd had five people tell me it wouldn't be on the test, but I guess I didn't read the pamphlet thoroughly enough, because I had to do it.
That was the first thing I did wrong.
I hit a cone, then tried to pull into the parking spot, but ended up parking NEXT to the spot.
I was completely parallel, too. How did that happen?
So I tried again.
Another epic failure.
My driving instructor, a really nice Guamanean lady, sighed and wearily asked me to re-enter traffic.
Which I did.
For the rest of the test I did fine. I'm a good driver.
Sort of.
Then I had to back around a corner.
I thought I understood her instructions, but apparently I wasn't listening hard enough or my brain malfunctioned, because an instant after she said them I forgot. I started turning my wheels every which way, bumping into the curb, ramming into brick walls, and asking, "Wait, you want me to turn into the driveway? Straight line into the driveway? Oh, turn RIGHT!" So I turned my car left.
She sighed again and asked me to re-enter traffic without killing anybody, which I managed to do.
The atmosphere of the car wasn't a hopeful one. A dark cloud hung over the Le Sabre and her body language boded ill.
But she was really nice about it.
Ed would have berated me and explained every little thing I did wrong and what a bad driver I was, compared to him and every other teenager out there.
Actually, that's kind of what she did.
But the WAY she did it wasn't as mean.
So she left and my dad came back and I had another big fight with him (we'd had one coming into the parking lot, when he decided constructive criticism was the best way to go - right before my test!!!).
He wanted me to go inside the DOL and renew my permit.
At this point, after *cough cough* bravely listening to my instructor tell me just how badly I failed, I couldn't take it anymore was bawling like a baby.
And my dad expected me to go inside, red-eyed and tear-stained, to smile for my permit picture.
That didn't go over well.
So he yelled a lot and I cried and might have cussed him out.
Correction: I did cuss him out.
Which he let go. I was a little surprised. I've never been grounded, but for what I said, I probably should have been.
It was bad.
But my mom bought me flavored Tootsie rolls and let me chill out and get away from people for a little while.
So Tie and I went on a long walk.
We were greatly cheered by cheery mechanics, cute old people, and skeevy old bikers.
The Lance Armstrong kind, not the tough leather-clad variety.
This one rode by me at least 5 times.
The last time he called out, "Good morning," and smirked heartily.
It cracked me up, but I couldn't figure out his motives.
Was he checking me out (unlikely) or trying to prove that he was so much faster than A GIRL WALKING HER DOG?
Congratulations! You can bike 2 miles faster than I can walk them! Good for you! By the way, I'M 16!!!!
He was at least 30.
Maybe even 40.
Ew.