Today I underwent the written test to obtain a G1 Ontario driver's license, three years after I theorectically qualified when I became 16. So I take my time ...

Being a scholastic perfectionist, I was overcome with anxiety before the exam. Of course, as it turned out, it was absurdly easy and peppered with hilarious illustrative videos from the 80s. Being the government however, in order to wear my nerves down even further, they dared to give me the incorrect test and quizzed me for about twenty questions or so on the Commercial Vehicle Operator's Registration system beforehand.

I confess. I don't have any heartfelt intentions to drive. I only really want the small piece of plastic that lets me into bars, the back of seedy bookstores, and other delightfully savoury locales.

When I casually mentioned this to my parents, who mere moments ago were congratulating me, unleashed a barrage of reprimand, partly because they don't understand English as well as Cantonese, and partly because their knowledge of the Ontario licensing system is approximately twenty years out of date (they believed I had a year to complete my first road test, when I had closer to five). Strangely, these misunderstandings between us occur extremely often, and in the end -- speaking in the most objective sense of course -- they are usually at fault. But they also usually manage to make me feel like the big bully instead. Bah.

Well, anyway. Congratulate me. The first day of my life in the fast lane (accompanied by a fully licensed driver with at least four years of experience) begins today.

(Witness my triumph here. The blacked out areas are really rather unnecessary, but they give me an inflated sense of prudence and importance.)