If you happened to drive on Wilton below Beverly this afternoon you may have caught a glimpse of me doing something pretty unusual in a very awkward fashion. At one point in the process I had a flashback to the scene in the film All Creatures Great and Small circa sometime in the 90's, where a veterinarian has his entire arm in the hoo-haa of a cow helping her birth a calf. What exactly was it I was doing? I was changing my headlight bulbs, one had died. I had to undo (technical, mechanic term) some screws, reach my arm up into the wheel well while pulling back the plastic cover and groping around to find the connector that holds the bulb. After 1/2 hour of struggling and sweating and kneeling on the street all contorted like I decided it might be easier if I took off the big wood bracelets and the giant ring I had on. In the same way only a chubby girl can call herself chubby, I will say of myself, what a blonde thing to do. I am sure most guys take off their bracelets and rings and pull their hair back before attempting any surgical type procedure on a car. It was painful, filthy, sweaty and full of colorful language, but I got the job done. Unfortunately I managed to take out the right turn signal in the process. I went directly to the Auto Zone and picked up a new bulb. The guy who the previous day had sold me the headlight bulbs (hey, get these awesome halogen bulbs, they will make your car look like a Benz) laughed when he saw me. He was ringing me up when I said, "I have to fix it right now, you know, LAPD." He said "LAPD, that's all they do is pull you over. That's all they do." He is all tatted up and Mexican. He knew. For a second we just held each others gaze in solidarity. WE KNOW! Then he handed me the fuse cover I left on his counter the previous day (I can also call MYSELF a space cadet) and told him if Consumer Reports says those awesome headlights are a joke and not worth the extra money, I am coming after him.When all was said and done I felt like the coolest chick. I just did work on my car. I didn't pay a man to do it and I risked my manicure. Obviously I know girls can do anything boys can do, vice versa, blah blah. I can't help how I feel. I am a fairly "girlie" girl and I will punch you in the throat to defend my right to be so. I wondered if men ever have those moments when they accomplish something that falls into traditionally female activities, where they feel like they accomplished something great in unfamiliar territory. Do they say, I just did the hell out of that laundry! if they managed to do it from start to finish with no cotton casualties? Do they think I am a Rock Star! when they manage to put their daughters hair in ponytails? Do they blurt I totally have this! when they vacuum, dust or mop a kitchen floor? I wonder. Insert obvious joke here.
I needed the ego boost because earlier in the day I walked into the living room and stepped on a shower rack I have been meaning to take to the Good Will, which snapped up and hit me in the face. Two seconds later I was trying to work some micro hair that was tickling my throat out of my mouth before I started choking on a green apple. When I flipped the switch in the bathroom to see if the shower rack had drawn any blood, both bulbs popped. Guess I'll have another chance to feel handy and cool tomorrow.
