I think I may be the only one surprised that I did fine during the first class of Driver's Ed. I'm now also much braver than Heather, because I stood up to bring things to the front two times.
Yeah, I'm pathetic.
I wish I knew why I always get so worked up about this sort of thing. My stomach was a queasy mess, my lips were dry from me licking them too much, I was shaking.... All because I had to sit in a classroom and listen to a teacher tell us how to be good drivers. He isn't even a mean teacher!
Anyway. Heather and I were some of the first to arrive at class last night. We headed to the row of desks furthest from the door and sank into our seats. Except for when I was in my first years of school, this is the only time I've actually sat at a legitimate desk, where the chair is attached to the too-small-desktop and there's a rack underneath to store possessions. I don't like it. But maybe I'm just spoiled.
By the time class began, there were 35 kids in the class and it felt a bit crowded. Not one of the kids actually attends the church where the class is being held. I think that added to the terrible state of my nerves. What was nice is that the teacher turned out to be a friendly guy with a decent sense of humor.
To help me calm down, I kept busy scribbling notes and observations in my notebook. First about some of the books I saw on the shelves next to me; then ideas for one of my stories; a note about how names seem to have a fair amount of impact on personality (and a prayer of thanks for my name); an observation that "people with nice handwriting don't write for fun. :)".
The first hour involved the teacher collecting checks and writing receipts for them, passing out attendance sheets, and having everyone put their information on one side of an index card with a map of the area around their house on the other. (That was fun.) Then we were each give our Driver's Ed "bibles". (Yeah, at one point he said "take out your bibles" and I sat in confusion until I finally realized what he meant by it.) On the subject of losing these, our teacher said, "If you lose it, the state of Michigan has authorized me to beat your with a bag of oranges."
I think I'll like this teacher.
By the last half hour, I'd recovered my usual (though still considerably unstable) state of mind. I also found my humor. While we were learning about the different kind of licenses, the teacher told us that if anything happened to our Level 1 license, we were to get it (or what remained of it) replaced. (His examples being if it was ruined or the dog ate it.) My note for this was "(but if the dog ate it....".
So, despite my doubts, it looks like my chances of survival remain optimistically high.
If we can work out the schedule, Heather and I will begin driving this Saturday. I'm glad I get to drive with her. We can go insane together.
When we got home, we had a movie to watch. Another superhero movie. (We'd watched Captain America on Sunday.) This one was Thor. I'm really starting to get sick of superhero movies.
WARNING: The rest of this post is a brief rant on why I hate superhero movies. You can stop here without missing anything important.
I like stories with complex plots and defined character development. Every superhero movie I've seen recently lacks both of these. (Iron Man was great, but they totally destroyed everything they accomplished when they made the sequel.) The plots are shallow, held together by explosions and terrible beasties and killing off the best friend or awesome black dude. Seriously. I felt terribly unsatisfied at the end of both Captain America and Thor because there wasn't anything important happening. Nothing to cheer for. They didn't spend enough time on the characters for me to be sad when they died. For Captain America, it was a blur of action interspersed with scenes full of empty dialogue or fight scenes or sweaty buff dudes strutting around without shirts. Captain America could have been an amazing character, but they spent more time having him throw around his shield and shoot people than actually watch him develop as a person.
As for Thor.... That's a whole new level of pain. The main characters share a couple of bashful glances and all of a sudden they're kissing? And it's not excusable like Enchanted. And what about Darcy? She was my favorite character and she didn't get the attention she deserved.
By the end of each movie, I sat there wondering what I'd missed, because, at least to me, pretty much nothing had happened. What they showed in a whole 1.5 hours was what ought to have barely been the first three chapters, prologue included.
/end rant/
Sorry. I had to. No one wants to hear me go through it out loud, and I ran out of room in my journal, so I had to share it here. Don't you love me? :)
I suppose it bugs me so much because it's exactly what I fear will happen with my own writing: empty one-plot stories held together with a few good lines, some special effects, and a bunch of flashing lights. It's one of those peculiar phobias I can't explain. I'm sorry you had to endure that, but I did warn you. (Or maybe it made you laugh, in which case I feel accomplished.)
I don't say this to encourage you to avoid any superhero movies. By all means, watch them, if only for decent special effects and the awesome Viking armor. I probably will watch them again.
But meanwhile I have chores to do and my own superhero story to write (if I can ever get past that dreaded first chapter).
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