Jewish Princess Blues

Why didn't I take auto mechanics in school? I just watched a friend put a new engine in his truck...it was un freaking believable! I was awestruck. Tools, wires, cables, nuts, bolts, screws were everywhere, and he knew exactly what to do. Back in high school I was consumed with "what will I wear today?" and couldn't be distracted by transmissions or carburators. Instead, I indulged in the labor intensive task of searching my closet for another new fashion combo. "Nope, wore that 3 days ago", or "Mom, why isn't my blue print blouse ironed yet"? Yes, I whined when I said it, and yes, I arrived at college unable to iron. I couldn't do anything except match clothes. Learning how to change a tire or the oil would have been a whole lot handier and cheaper.

"Handy" people are a veritable religious experience to me. I'm dumbstruck by a person on a ladder with a tool in their hand. I want a tool too! Ixnay to the ladder, I'm afraid of heights. Am I hopeless? Or is it genetic? Perhaps I'm not predisposed to re-wire a lamp or fix a faucet. My indestructable and tenacious Jewish Princess gene must have gone on a search and destroy mission for all my "handy" chromosones. I have however, defiantly mastered jiggling the handle of a running toilet. Oh, hang on a sec, I can take off the top of the tank and look in.... I don't know what to do next, but it feels like an accomplishment. Eventually the irrefutable Princess gene prevails and I call a repairman. Curses!

I stare longingly at my friend's tools and wonder what it all means. I pick up a wrench and feel the urge to fix something. The urge passes. What should I wear today?