Feminism
About a week ago, my cat chewed a couple of holes in the power cord for my iBook. Since then, I've been bumming Jay's periodically because I'm too poor to shell out $100+ for a new one. Tom feels certain he can fix the thing permanently, but he won't be in Wiggins for a while, and I won't be in Baton Rouge, either. So. Desperate times call for desperate measures. McKenna's in the bath a while ago and I'm staring at the power cord, willing it to work again. When that failed, I broke out the high-tech gadgetry (scissors, tweezers, Scotch tape, bedroom lamp for lighting) and went to work. This is a major step in my journey towards true independence, since I've been surrounded all my life by men that did these things for me. Dad, Clay, Tom, Tim...the whole lot of them manage to rig crap that should never work and have it humming with relatively few mishaps. Hell, Chris had some kind of freaking NASA certification for soldering (bet you never knew such a thing existed, huh? Yeah, neither did I.). So, needless to say, I've never had much interaction with wiring of any kind. Yet somehow, five minutes later, I had the computer charging.
I am amazing.
Luckily, it occurred to me fairly quickly that the heat generated from the electricity running through those wires would probably do bad things to Scotch tape, so I called my brother-in-law to double-check. He verified my suspicions and assured me that my gift-wrap-patch was an excellent way to insure that the cord would never work again. So, Jay was nice enough to fetch some electrical tape for me and now I'm back in business. Kickety snick. Tomorrow, I shall attempt to repair the doorknob-sized-hole in the sheetrock in my bedroom and I bet you a dollar I'll succeed. But I'll be damned if I can start a facking lawnmower.
I am amazing.
Luckily, it occurred to me fairly quickly that the heat generated from the electricity running through those wires would probably do bad things to Scotch tape, so I called my brother-in-law to double-check. He verified my suspicions and assured me that my gift-wrap-patch was an excellent way to insure that the cord would never work again. So, Jay was nice enough to fetch some electrical tape for me and now I'm back in business. Kickety snick. Tomorrow, I shall attempt to repair the doorknob-sized-hole in the sheetrock in my bedroom and I bet you a dollar I'll succeed. But I'll be damned if I can start a facking lawnmower.