Give me a "brake"

My car is a constant source of personal frustration.

I hate the damn thing, just hate it.

In the past, I always loved my cars - I've been the owner of a series of convertibles and when I moved to West Michigan (a.k.a. the snowbelt of Michigan) I became the proud owner of a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Though not a convertible, the Grand Cherokee had been my dream car in high school (I'm a freak!) and I felt like I had "arrived" driving that thing around town.

Long story short, I started commuting a long distance to work and had to ditch the Jeep because I couldn't afford to fill the gas tank on a daily basis. (In fact, I am probably still paying for gas charged to my AmEx during the gas price spike of 2006!)

Now I drive a Chrysler Sebring SEDAN. If the car in question was a Chrysler Sebring Convertible I would have nothing to complain about. However, that hard top (not to mention lack of four wheel drive) makes me loathe this car.

It always has a flat tire, it's an ugly shade of silver/blue/green, it gets crappy gas mileage and it does not handle snow and ice well. And, did I mention it has a hard top?

Literally two days after my latest car repair one of my brake lights stopped working.

Now, I am all about my life as an empowered, independent single woman who doesn't need a man to be happy or to do shit for me. Except when it comes to my car.

When it comes to car stuff I am a total drama queen.

It freaks me out - car repairs are always expensive and being without transportation during said repairs is always a challenge.

Knowing burnt out tail light is a minor thing in the car world I decided I could handle it myself.

Of course, I bitched about the situation for a week to anyone who would listen...like that would make the Car Repair Fairy (oh, I wish there were such a thing) appear at my garage door and fix it or something!

Today at lunch I pulled out the owner's manual and went to AutoZone to get the bulb. First time I had ever looked at that thing. Frankly I didn't even know I had an owner's manual until today.

Acquired bulb and got down to business.

Owner's manual? Yeah, so not helpful. It failed to mention that I would actually need to remove the entire tail light from the body of the car. The diagram showed me diagrams of pulling out a bunch of wires - NOT removing an entire tail light!

I called my dad in a panic and he tried to talk me through it but some things just don't translate over the phone. I suppose asking things like "Do I need to pull out the plastic sqaure thingy with the wires?" was not helpful. That's just the payback I deserve for the other day when I was trying to help him navigate the internet over the phone (wouldn't recommend trying that either).

He finally suggested I ask a male co-worker for help but I was determined I could do this myself.

I hung up then twisted, turned, pulled some more and boom - light bulb found!

The light bulb I removed was half the size of the replacement blub AutoZone sold me.

Shoot.

Tried to stick large bulb in "just in case" but, of course, it didn't work.

In a snit, I drove back to AutoZone.

I showed the salesman the bulb I removed from the car. Inidignant, he told me what I had in my hand - you know, the bulb I just REMOVED from the tail light - was not the right bulb. I invited him to see if for himself but he declined my offer and sold me the bulb that matched the one I had removed, all the while acting like I would just be right back to make yet another return.

Another reason I can't handle car stuff? Because men that know cars (or think they know cars) treat women like we're total idiots. I may not be a car expert but clearly this bulb was not going to work in my tail light!

Determined to prove AutoBoy wrong, I decided to replace the bulb right there in the parking lot (now that I am an expert at removing the tail light). In a few short minutes the new bulb was in.

I started the engine and propped my portable air compressor against the brake (I told you the tires are always flat! This is no joke - I have to inflate a tire at least every other week), ran around back and both brake lights were working!

It's crazy, but I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Sounds silly, but I definitely got an adrenaline rush out of it. Part of me wanted to run in to the store say "nah nah nah nah nah-nah" to AutoBoy but I refrained.

As a single woman who owns her own home and car, it can be really frustrating when something is broken, something large needs to be assembled/moved, etc. and it's something I could easily handle if I just had a little help.

Today was one small step toward maybe being more of a drama princess than drama queen when it comes to car stuff, but I feel like it was really one giant leap!