we've all dreamt it, haven't we?

i mean, what free-spirited, rebellious, i-feel-that-i'm-being-strangled-by-my-parents adolescent in their right mind hasn't thought about it? upon reaching the legal age, giving the cry of independence.

twinges of anticipation, cerebral cramps during the exam, wary of the watchful eye of the examiner during the practical, being rewarded with the single most important piece of laminated card in your adult life.

leaning back, hands on 10:00 and 2:00, feet shifting from one pedal to the other, fingers lightly gripping the clutch and signalling lever, stepping down on the gas, speeding away.

cruising down the highway, the wind in your hair, going from zero to sixty, winking at cute pedestrians, honking the horn, exuding maturity and liberation.

driving is a big deal. i can't wait for the day when i become free from my dad's iron grip over my life, social and all. i probably won't be driving in a convertible with the wind-hair scenario (too bad, my hair is probably ideal for this), but i can just see it. driving around the village, going to the mall at my leisure (but not at my expense), late night outs with my friends, possibly even going on out-of-the-city outings. too bad one thing will probably shatter all these: my actual driving skills.

case example: this morning. i told my dad i needed to return some books in upd before my exam in the afternoon. he offers me the wheel. i gladly accept. driving in diliman is such a dream. the clean environment, the fresh air, the light drizzle that morning, the open roads, the feel of the engine under my control, the perfect balance of clutch and gas, turning left towards the library, horns blowing behind me, my dad shouting in my ear, a random biker speeding by, cursing me through the window, me wishing i could just hide my head under the seat. i almost hit him. too close (too bad). but everyone's all right, save my ego.

it was early. i just woke up. the biker went by so fast. i had the right of way. i have a ton of excuses. but i have the best of all.

i'd really like to blame my dad on this one. not that he had anything directly to do with the "accident". but he could have taught me a lot better than that. it's just that his teaching style consists of him giving the basics, then giving me the car, then shouting and stressing out, then telling me that when he was my age, he was much better, much more eager to learn, much more everything else. sure. i've become immune to it now, all i hear is the important stuff. all i remember from his rampage this morning was "malapit ka nang kumuha ng lisensya mo. hindi ka pa handa para sa driving exam." harsh, but true. i'll get working on that.

it's not that i don't try, i just don't try enough. i need more practice. but with a steady input of requirements, and the upcoming killer schedule, it'll be tough finding more time. i know i want this badly. the old toyota is sitting there, waiting for me. i'll get much better before the license exam. i'll practice more, i swear i will. but without the yelling, if at all possible.

my way, or the highway.