My name is Sarah Hodges and this is my brand new baby blog. I want a piece of this action, this blog business, so here I am. I will make you laugh.  Or at least try to. That’s my thing. Laugh and maybe our problems will go away. Laugh and maybe we’ll forget all the shit. And so it begins. Read my ‘About Me’ to get some background on this mess of a person I call myself. Learn to love me. As I go on the same journey to love myself.

Now cogitate on this:

I have this problem. It’s the biggest problem I have right now, at least. But…It’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone else. Are you ready to laugh? Here it goes: I don’t have my driver’s license. Oh, did I mention I’m 19 years old? Are you laughing? Great. I am too. No, wait, I’m crying. I’m crying because yesterday I FAILED my driver’s test. Yeah. Let that simmer. I didn’t even start learning to drive ’til I turned 18. I wasn’t ready. But the point is, I’ve been driving for over a year now, and I am really ready to be on my own and have that license. I am a good, safe driver. I want it, I need it, it’s all I think about (almost), and I am crying because I still don’t have it. Fuck damnit panties. You know how I failed? Parallel parking. Yeah. I am a terrible parker. When I say terrible, I mean surprisingly terrible. I mean I don’t know my ass from chicken, I turn the wheel 1440 degrees every time I want to change direction, and basically I cannot maneuver my boat-sized minivan period under 25 miles an hour. I suck. The judge inspector license giver-outer seemed nice at first. She was small-talking me as she checked my lights, blinkers, brake, etc. But when she got in the car and asked me to parallel park first thing and saw me flailing, she changed. She seemed more shocked and afraid than annoyed. When she asked me to pull over to let her out, she warned me not to hit the car that was a good 50 feet away. Fuck. I watched her write FAILED on the paper and listened to her tell me to learn about parallel parking and tried to gulp back the tears that I could feel pulsating behind my eyeballs. Lucky she got out quickly. I sobbed. For only a minute. I got a hold of myself, re-parked the car closer to the DDS entrance, and went in to grab my mom, whose befuddled expression only made it worse. She was angry at the situation and sorry for me. I was just ashamed of myself. I know how to parallel park. I’ve practiced it many times before. But I didn’t perform. My anxiety got the better of me. Many people fail their first driver’s test, I know, but it still hurts. And for parking?! That’s the worst. It’s unimportant. And it was the first thing I was tested on. I didn’t even get a chance to be out on the road. Everyone I know thinks I already had my license. Except for my three best friends, who I’ll call Bridgette, Nate, and Drew. But I told my work friends that I already have it, I just don’t have a car yet. And stupid, hopeful me told them that I would get a car on Christmas as a present from my parents. Now what am I supposed to do? I told one of them yesterday, I’ll call her Victoria. She’s my best friend there. She was encouraging. She told me to tell everyone that I’m just having work done on the car and that’s why I don’t have it yet. Maybe I’ll tell two more of my coworkers on Christmas, who I’ll call Robert and Jennifer. Oh, silly, silly life. Maybe I’ll tell you about the rest of it sometime. Enjoy your licenses. Cherish them and be grateful. Give one to me.

Peace.