I learned how to drive on a manual '78 Volvo - the models with the cast-iron engine and steel body and no power steering. That thing was a fucking tank, but way comfy on road trips. As a result, I never had a problem with parallel parking until I had to drive Z's gigantor truck all the time - that was a bitch to park.

I drove manual until last year. I still miss the feeling of control, but my knee doesn't miss clutch combined with stop and go.

I would totally learn manual if I were going to be on TAR. And it's a skill I would like to have. But my friends with stick shifts are understandably wary of having someone ruin their car...can't imagine why...

His first step was to spend six months scouring the county for the most deserted road possible. A good thing, too -- on my first effort, I promptly drove into a ditch.

Heh. Me too! We were out in some farm roads in Illinois! OK, I didn't go all the way into the ditch, but I just didnt' grok quite HOW far you had to turn the steering wheel....after that, he gave up on the teaching me, and decided I could take lessons.

Plei, all sorts of house ~ma. Congratulations on the new place!

Manual and hand controls are non-mixy things, so I have never learned how to drive one.

What happens if you are in an emergancy? And the only thing that will safely drive you out of the burning warehouse is a manual transmission forklift?

More to the point, what if you have to drive my truck?

My father tried to teach me to drive manual transmission. There was a lot of yelling. My ex was remarkably patient in teaching me when I finally did learn. ("You're an idiot" doesn't really motivate me to learn.) He even managed to only grimace slightly when I made his 260Z make terrible noises.

Wait, Raq is in San Diego, and about to leave????

I could have driven to San Diego.

Except for the part where I've been too busy to do so, and I suspect Raq was too.

I'm getting sick of it. Something in me just wants to scream "I'm a temp, I don't know you people, I don't care if you have a happy birthday. Stop shoving obligatory well-wishes at me, I'm not part of your club!"

I think what adds to the annoyance is this faux-cloak-and-dagger way they have of handing you the card to sign. It's in a manila folder, discreetly labelled "Birthday" and inside is the card and a phone list so's you can cross your name off and take it, stealthy-like, to the next sucker on the list, mwahaha. And they always come into your cubicle looking somber with this folder so you're on edge thinking "What work are you going to give me?" and they put it down on your desk with a "sly" wink and move on.

It just bugs the shit out of me today for some reason. I just want to punch 'em in the neck.

Yeah. Not the tiniest bit sorry that I walked away from that world, never to look back again. You need to do it too, man. You need to do anything else that makes you the tiniest bit happier. Cube farms and florescent lights are killing you by degrees.

MM, good lord, you are the quickest wit in the world...

Aw, thanks, but...

a) No, I'm not.

b) If I was a top contender I think too many man-hours in an office environment has reduced my wit to a toddler-level "I pooped! Ha ha!"

c) If I were the quickest wit in the world I would have to watch out every day. Every day I'd know that someday, some time, some young whippersnapper with something to prove would come up behind me and say "All right, Miracleman...QUIP!"

And one day the snark would fail me. And I'd have to look that punk in the eye as I said, too slowly to be funny, "I pooped! Ha ha!"

Cube farms and florescent lights are killing you by degrees.

Maybe so. But they are helping to feed my child, and it's impossible to walk away from that.

I learned to drive on a manual, but I've been driving an automatic for the last , good lord, 15 years, can that be right? Anyway, I can still drive a stick when I need to, but it takes a bit before it feels natural. And then, of course, switching back to the automatic feels weird.

Hooray house for Plei! Hope the old house sells fast.

Nice to see you, askye!

Oooo! Have fun learning to drive, jars!

I was actually angry at my parents for not teaching me to drive manual (dad had to drive trucks for his dad's business, and he HATED manual, so he thought he was doing me a favor). Shortly after I got my license, I babysat a friend's boyfriend's truck, which was manual. She taught me in less than 10 minutes, and off I went. I knew it was my one true transmission.

Two years later when I went to buy my own car, I insisted on stick. My dad was mortified. But, then we test-drove the car I was in love with, and he was amazed at how much I'd remembered from basically two years earlier, and he told me to go for it.

After the pregnant rollerskate died, I got an automatic, and I've missed my stick shift ever since.

My parents joke that buying cars with manual transmission was the way we kids rebelled (both of my brothers also prefer manual--B's car is a manual; J's current is not). Well, that and preferring liturgical churches. We're such rebels, I tell you!