Today on our way to the Memorial Day parade my car suddenly decided to just stop shifting. Since I have an automatic transmission, this is sort of a terrifying thing. There's no control, just a lot of shaking and a nose like a defective vacuum.

Mom picked up me and Jen and we proceeded to go to the Memorial services.
Why are all patriotic poems terrible? Why are all mayors long-winded? If you were giving a public speech wouldn't you write it out first? Would you have the audacity for your speech to be "As Lincoln said, 'Four score and seven years ago...'" and proceed to recite Lincoln's speech?

Afterwards I ate a plate of German potato salad and mom drove me home. I assumed that I'd just be pampered and chauffeured all next week while we learn that my transmission is probably totally shot and that it won't be covered under warranty (because that's how car stuff works)but apparently Bryan had other plans. He decided to take me out and teach me how to drive stick so that I can drive his car.

I sort of have a stick phobia, because in my experience I spend the whole ride bunny hopping while the person trying to teach me screams "let out the clutch" and I shout "it IS let out!" And then I stop in an intersection, screaming while cars swerve and honk around me. Well, today I did much better. Not so well reversing, but in my defense there was a small child on the sidewalk looking horrified as I tried to get the hang of "reverse" and Bryan sputtered at me in a frustrated manner. I was more concentrating on yelling "sorry" and not rolling into him than I was in letting out the clutch smoothly.

Still, I did OK, although at frightening moments I do tend to scream "no no no" and "scary scary scary" while closing my eyes and blindly jamming the shifter dealey in any random sort direction hoping to find the right gear.

Despite the horror, I did sort of enjoy myself I hope tomorrow I do not accidentally take out any motorists. I suppose that's why the good Lord invented car insurance.