Recently I took a 101 class for blogger beginners with Hollis Gillespie. It was very helpful and fun which is always makes things better. She generously shared a lot of helpful advises, and strongly recommended to me stop asking my husband to edit my blog posts (which he did before without a big enthusiasm, saying the truth). Well, my first thought was that my husband secretly asked Hollis to give me this valuable advice in his favor and even paid her for that. But then, I thought and agreed that if I speak with an accent, why shall I try to write without it? If you live with an accent, what to do. She even suggested me to video myself speaking, but I don’t have enough courage for that. Not yet.
Here I am with my first unedited post regarding the major stuff which is in my mind now-DRIVING LESSONS. Let’s start from unpleasant confession: I am over forty and I never learn to drive (and I am not sure which of these confessions is more unpleasant). Anyway, I never drove because it wasn’t very necessary when I lived in Moscow or Saint Petersburg, or any other place with public transportation. My early introductory tours to the US were concentrated in New York City, so I never felt a difference or strong desire to learn driving. However, an American South is another story. First time I came to Atlanta 12 years ago, I was about to realize the necessity of driving. I think my husband was even sure that I date him because I need a ride. Well, it was a good guess, but the truth is that I never learn to drive then as well. Then we got married and moved to Moscow, and even my husband sold his car before he left the US.
After eight years we came back and my old problems rose up as they never got solved. All these years my husband kept making fun of me and trying all possible ways to convince me to learn. My favorite is when we went to Moscow circus and bears showed up driving their little cars. He looked at me with deep sympathy…”Sweetie, see-even bears can do it’” But it was in Moscow, I didn’t care and I laughed. Now, thanks to Scarlet O’Hara’s homeland, I realized that there is simply no way to function without learning to drive. So I decided that I need to. …I have to… I must.
Instead of reading a DDS brochure, get learners permit and go to practical classes, I decided that I’ll take a real class. I like to learn things from the scratch. I hoped the instructor would put little toy cars on a diagram in front of me and explain how it all work together at streets. However, in Georgia probably I was the only adult with no driving skills and classes were not provided. “There are only driving classes for teens” told me a lady on the phone with clear black accent. “Can I go to class with teens?”, I asked not confidently… “Would you like to?”- I heard the sincere surprise in the lady’s voice. “Yes, I do, “- I almost whispered with much little enthusiasm. “Well, come on Saturday at 9AM, with credit card and a lunch box. There will be 15 teens …and You” (to be continued)…