i am not good at guy stuff. in fact, i’m a
disaster. and although i happen to believe (as any good feminist
should) that gender is a social construction, i still find myself
completely lost when it comes to the following things:

1. cars. about six months after i got my cute little car
i took it to get an oil change at one of those drive-up establishments
where they give you a newspaper to read and a cup of coffee to drink.
the mechanic took one look at me (and yes, i am blond) and said:
“ma’am, this is a brand new vehicle. we are going to want to put
synthetic oil in it.” synthetic oil? what is that? i was too
intimidated to ask, so i just agreed. after all, who was i (a mere
female) to argue with a mechanic, someone who (in my opinion) might as
well be a rocket scientist or astrophysicist. the bill for my oil
change was $85. this seemed a bit steep, but i paid it anyway and then
called my then-boyfriend c. as i was driving away. “you paid how much for an oil change?” whoops. apparently you don’t need synthetic oil. synthetic oil is like a kate spade purse, nice to have…but more of a luxury than a necessity.
my friend b. (who is an engineering major and a car nut) fields at
least one phone call a month from me where i ask about random
screeching noises or strange lights flickering on my dashboard–or when
i am trying to complete the occasional crossword puzzle (what is a
seven letter word for a car part that begins with m and ends with r?)
b., who has known me for over ten years, always gently reminds me that
i could probably figure out many of the things i call him about on my
own. but i’m not so sure.

2. fixing stuff. when i moved into my new apartment
a couple weeks ago, i decided to hang up some framed photos in my
dining room. after spending a terrifying hour and a half attempting to
nail things into the wall, i got the display looking pretty good. so i
went to bed (probably at 9:30) only to be awoken at 3:30 by a huge crash...

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