The following was previously published on another site. 
Remember those intriguing contests I mentioned? Babees, THIS one hits hard and all my fantasy happy spots are shivering. To say I love driving would be a gross understatement and wouldn't surprise anyone who knows me. It took a while, and was under duress, but I mastered driving stick with no small thanks to my "Clutch, Mother!" coach. I was 29. He was 11. It's in the mitochondrial DNA.
My dad once said I drove his Ford Tempo like it was a Ferrari. My mom always said she felt nothing but safe and relaxed with me at the wheel. (Except for that one time, when I was 16, and Phil Collins called to my soul because there was something In The Air. Because, c'mon.)
Last weekend, I texted my oldest and youngest: "Your sister drives like a maniac." Safe to say I have done my part to keep the smartass gene alive and well:
This girl was born to say, "Vroomm, vrooomm, out of my way mofos, I've got low flying to do!" You wouldn't be wrong if you think this almost made me weep:
If it would be a dream come true for you too, make sure to read the rules carefully and shoot your shot. Someone has to win. Good luck!