Charles is teaching me to drive a manual. For the second time.
The first time we were getting ready to move to San Francisco. We were getting rid of my Grand Am and only keeping his Integra. I don't know what I was thinking, that I might actually drive his car on the hills of San Francisco, but it didn't happen. The driving lessons were a little bit of an adventure themselves, realizing that Charles' teaching style and my learning style didn't really match up very well. Or maybe it's that I get so easily frustrated learning to do new things and he didn't really know how to deal with it at the time.
Anyway, Jen ended up teaching me. (Thanks again, Jen!) And Andrea did a lot of hand-holding. Or at least she was very patient with me as we did endless laps up and down the "hilly" circular drive in front of Bursley Hall. "Green light. Red light. Green light. Red light."
And now six years later, Charles is teaching me again. In a foreign country. With a car that doesn't have a tachometer. (Yay.) It's definitely easier than last time, but I still have moments of frustration - like the one last night involving a pony-driven cart and my inability to get out of first gear.
But in general I'm doing alright. My confidence is definitely higher after I've been through the local traffic circles a couple times and successfully navigated a Diever Traffic Jam without stalling, rear-ending anyone or driving off the raised drawbridge into the canal.
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