Drive slow, homey

I drove to Xia's house on Saturday night.

It took me one and half hours.

This can attributed to several factors:

1. I am Asian.
2. I am female.
3. I cannot read a map without pulling over, switching on a light, and rotating the entire Melway in 90 degree turns to figure out how to get somewhere.
4. I have no sense of direction.
5. I have driven in the city a grand total of once, and that was with Katherine giving me directions.
6. On this night, Katherine was not with me.
7. It was dark.
8. It was raining.
9. There were wolves after me. (Well, not really...unless they were metaphorical wolves of my own creation, rising unbidden from my suppressed inner psyche)
10. My glasses have a weak prescription so I couldn't read the street names.
11. I am not a rational, calm sort of person.

All this meant that I was driving around...and around....and around. At one point, I ended up (somehow) at the entrance to the Westgate Bridge and the freeway- and obviously, I panicked. I cut across six lanes of traffic and hightailed outta there, cursing all the way.

In the city, there are only two lanes. If you're in the left lane, you must turn left. In the right lane, you must turn right (unless there is a stupid sign forbidding this...there are many of those). Which begs the question- how do you go straight?

YOU CAN'T.

Which is why I ended up doing weird turns into streets that I didn't want to go into.

When I finally made it onto Flemington Rd, I missed the house and ended up trawling through the backstreets in the dark with no idea how to make it back onto the main road.

Eventually, I got there, albeit a little hysterically. And the next morning, I managed to make it back by only getting lost twice :D

However, I did find that there is nothing that a cocktail glass full of pure cream, chocolate and Bundaberg rum cannot fix.