Crash and burn, baby.

This is how I feel while I go through my driving lessons.

I am so bad in it holy fucking carrots I don't even -

I want to learn how to drive using auto cars. NOT MANUAL CARS.

Not cars that sputter and die while I panic, flail and spazz in the middle of the road and the instructor screams like a lunatic next to me. Not cars that have heavy as fuck steering wheels that make me sweat and pant like a heavy gym workout just trying to turn that massive thing for four successive rounds. Not cars that need gear-shifting every single time I start moving after a traffic light. NOT CARS THAT ARE SO DAMN DIFFICULT TO HANDLE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

I am not good in this. I acknowledge the fact that I'll turn out to be an awful, awful driver. I'm not a hands-on person. I know how bad I am when it comes to practical shit. I know other people learn at a faster pace than I do. I'm slow, I'm not quick in responding - FINE, I KNOW THAT. Apparently playing GTA didn't help at all, but whatever. I'm still trying, alright? No need to yell at me. No wonder you told me some of your students cried. I wouldn't be surprised. And stop asking why I giggle in an uncontrollable manner while I'm  driving. I AM NOT GOOD IN THIS, OKAY? And that is how I cover my nervousness and inferiority. I LAUGH. I laugh like I've totally snapped. It's absolutely enlightening. You should try it.

Beware - major caps lock up ahead like some whiny bitch. 

"FEET ON THE CLUTCH." 

"STRAIGHTEN THE CAR. STRAIGHTEN IT!"

"WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER HOW TO PARK PROPERLY?"

"I am fucking trying, dumbass," is what I want to say. "OH GOD BOLLOCKS STOP TALKING ON THE FUCKING PHONE WHILE I'M AT THE RISK OF CRASHING INTO A CAR IN FRONT OF ME AND STOP GIVING ME WEIRD HAND MOTIONS I DO NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND. I DO NOT COMPUTE. DO. NOT. COMPUTE." 

Yes, he seriously just expects me to understand what he's signalling with his hands while he blabs away on the phone with his friends. I understand speech, my dear, not gestures. If you make me panic, I will lose my cool, the car will die because it's a fucking manual car, and I will lose my cool even more. Not a good situation. 

...I'm really not good in this. This is pathetic. 

I don't even know how I managed to drive all the way from my house to the driving center's headquarters in Segambut, KL. I have no idea how I managed to get on the highway, cruising at a maximum of 60km/h, changing lanes without actually killing someone, dealing with the 4pm crowd we Malaysians are so familiar with, and even managing to execute some pretty decent gear-changing under such a shitload of pressure.

It must be a fucking miracle.

But then again, it was all by chance. Most of the time, I cursed, shifted to the wrong gears ("HOW CAN YOU GET TO GEAR FOUR FROM GEAR TWO? PAY ATTENTION!"), stopped when I shouldn't have had to, and had the engine sputter and die magnificently on me. 

I suck so badly that it makes me laugh.

In fact, I was so distracted that at the toll booth, I exclaimed a loud " 谢谢" to the Malay girl instead of "thank you" or "terima kasih."

What? Don't give me that fucking incredulous look. I was at China for a week, okay? I got China-fied. Just for a little while.

"NOT  谢谢!" The instructor roared, torn between sounding exasperated and amused at the same time. 

"Oh," I said, realizing my mistake. "Terima kasih!" 

My instructor couldn't stop laughing for two minutes after that.

...Fuck. 

How am I going to pass next month's driving test? I'm going to fail. Really badly. 

I don't even have the mood to blog about China anymore. 

  

My next class will be at 7am because the other times are full. GODDAMMIT AT 7AM I WILL REALLY KILL SOMEONE AT THAT TIMING BECAUSE I WILL BE DRIVING LIKE A DRUNK. 

I am certain of it. 

Wait for the news, my dears, wait for it.