I am a licensed driver! I will finally be having my sweet sixteen party now, you can all come to disco bowling and we'll have pizza and cream soda. I can fit, like, twelve people in my parents' mini van, if you double-up on seatbelts.
Ok for real, though. After twelve years of being That Girl, the one that you always have to pick up, I can drive myself to come visit you now. Except I'm in Terrace. Which was looking suspiciously like Victoria this morning between 8:30 and 9:15, cyclists around every turn. But I didn't hit any of them! And I only ran amber lights when it was too dangerous to stop, and I shoulder-checked like a shoulder-checking dervish, and I only forgot to take off the e-brake once.
And THEN, as I'm pulling out of the parking lot on my first ever solo drive I almost get nailed by a senior citizen coming in to be recertified. Circle of life, my friends. For every license given, one must be taken away.