Zen and the art of automobile maintenance

I wrote in some actually helpful directions, because WRITING IS IMPORTANT

I am not what you would call a handy person. My talents lie elsewhere. If you need something proofread, I’m your gal. If you need someone to help you navigate a website, give me a jingle! Need a plumber? I’m happy to Google that for you. 

My only handiness comes from what I call minor emergency automobile repair. I don’t mean I do body shop work or that you can call me when there’s smoke under your hood. If there’s smoke under your hood, I can call AAA for ya. But if you need an extremely limited number of repairs (like two) made to your car and you don’t want to call AAA, I can totes change your headlight bulb (harder than it sounds) or give your car a jump. If you bribe me, and I mean REALLY BRIBE me, I can change out a car battery.

My touch is electric
A few weeks ago, I used my mad car skills to rescue my sis and her husband. Their car wouldn’t start and they called me. “The one thing I can do,” I called to them, joyfully, when I appeared with my personal set of jumper cables. “The ONE thing!” With the help of an eHow video we got that puppy back on the road.

Sure, you could argue they were just using me for my car’s battery, but I like to think they called me because I have literally jumped and/or replaced my car’s battery for three winters in a row and dammit, I know my way around a set of jumper cables.

One of my friends told me batteries shouldn’t fail that often, Jess, you know that right? Bah humbug I said to her. Until you’ve experienced the pure wonderment of finding out all it’ll take to get you back in business is replacing a car battery (not some mysterious ailment like the alternator), you don’t understand what relief is. If that’s the only thing that ever goes wrong with my car and I spend the day after Christmas in Autozone every year, I’ll consider myself very lucky.*

Putting a little light on the subject
I can also put in a new headlight bulb. So what, you say. Screw you, I say. It’s not that easy. The instructions are vague—yeah, writing well matters! Who knew!—and there’s no room at all to maneuver. This is a slightly less hurty exercise than changing the battery, but you still bump your hands against really ouchie things. Also, you can’t touch the glass part, which is about 85% of the damn thing. Also, if you have a visual/spatial deficit, as I seriously do, it’s kind of hard to remember which of the lights you’re trying to replace the bulb in.

But I figured it out by bumping things and just yanking on a lot of pieces that seemed like they shouldn’t be yanked. In your face, writers of car maintenance manuals. In. Your. Face.

Don’t stop believin’
I never used to think I could conquer the crappy things life sometimes make you do. My car won’t start? Somebody help! Sometimes there isn’t anybody to help, though. Sometimes, a girl’s gotta do her own shit. Now I believe in my meager skills, though.

If there’s an eHow video, there’s a way.

*Swapping out batteries in December in Flagstaff is no walk in the park, though. It requires several tools, a sturdy coat, patience and a lot of cursing. Someone to make a Starbuck’s run for you would also not go amiss.