The Adventures of Fro-Girl: How I got my license...

We saw her clipboard before we even saw her. It peaked out, as she hid behind the wall. My heart nearly beat out of my chest. I thought there would have been more time.

My mother drove to the DMV. I could hear nervousness in her voice. I couldn't really discern if the nervousness was for me or for the fact that we were going to be late for my appointment. We weren't late, though. We got there 15 minutes early; 9:45 in the morning. I would have been in Chemistry if I were at school. So glad I wasn't.

Ms. Clipboard greeted us with a stern voice and an impermeable disposition. It's gonna be hard to chat with this one, I thought as I walked out of the car. I tried to smile at her, but she didn't notice. She wore a blue sweatshirt; one of those shirts that teachers wear with teddy bears on them. It was easy to imagine this woman as a yard-duty or something. She had a large frame, one of those 70's hairdos, and those sunglasses from the 80's. She was a character.

She introduced herself. Her voice was soft...but they kinda sounded like a man's voice when he tries to sound feminine...or maybe like my second grade teacher's voice. The sentences she had prepared for my listening pleasure were paused in the middle for her to breathe. I thought she was going to collapse in the car.

I drove smoothly and consciously the first few blocks. However, I must have seemed nervous because that is when she began to talk to me.

"So what courses are you..."--pause as she breathed--"taking in school?" She said it in such a way that it seemed like it was my aunt or something (but of course not; her being caucasian and me being filipino).

I tried to put on my talking-to-teacher/aunt/family aquaintence/doctor voice. "Uhm...AP Chemistry, Honors English, US History, Spanish 3...I'm only taking five classes," I explained, though I only named four, "since one of my classes is a block."

I wanted her to shut up. I wanted to concentrate on the damn road, but having her talk to me was too distracting.

"So you must want to go in the medical field, taking Chemistry."

I hesitated. Did I? Do I? "Actually, I want to go into Biomedical Research and Biochemistry, so..." I stopped at an intersection, "but, more than anything, I want to be writer. I've always like to write...so I really don't know."

She let out an "Oh." that seemed like she really didn't care.

To be continued when I'm not lazy...