Today I woke up to this:
And this:
Yes, that first picture is of snow. On April 22nd. As in a couple of inches of snow on the patio furniture. If you look closely (yes, the pictures aren't the greatest, I took them with my phone) you can see the valley in the background where there is no snow. Ah, the joys of living on the Provo bench. At least by now the snow has melted away and the sun in shining.
That second photo is a picture of a very flat tire. I knew this was coming. Yesterday upon pulling into the garage and exiting my vehicle, I swore I could hear air leaking out of my tire. I listened; I walked away, I came back and listened again; again I walked away. I was certain that I must be crazy because you can't actually hear the air leaking out of a tire. Well, guess what! You can actually hear the air leaking out of a tire and that photo is proof.
No worries, the tire is back in working order thanks to the help of AAA, AM/PM towing and Les Schwab tires. This whole situation (and a comment I made to the guy who came to change my tire) got me thinking. Upon arriving and observing the tire, I told the guy that I could certainly change the tire myself (and, if forced to, I could) but why should I when I have a AAA card and can get someone else to do it for me. Such a non-feminist statement!
You see, back in college, I considered myself to be the ultimate feminist (not a difficult task when you attend BYU and every other girl you know is concerned with getting married and popping out babies) I took the feminist literature classes, supported all causes female related and swore I wouldn't get married until I was at least 25 (totally having to eat those words as I am far beyond those 25 years and still unmarried) I mocked the girls that were at BYU to only get their "MRS" degree and couldn't believe that someone would drop out of school for marriage and babies. And, had I ever heard of someone doing what I did this morning (calling someone else to change a tire) I would have thought she was a complete embarrassment to the feminine cause!
Fast forward to now; my new state of feminism. I'm perfectly capable of changing a tire, carrying a heavy box, lifting a mini-fridge off the shelf at Costco and loading it into my car; I just choose to not do these things. You see I've adopted a new attitude; why should I lift, haul, carry or change when I can get someone else to do it for me? I pay an annual membership fee to AAA so I don't have to change a tire, jump start a car or trek to get gas (as a side note, I've only run out of gas once in my life, when I was 16 and it will NEVER happen again. My father has taught all of us that you fill up with gas when your tank is 1/4 full--which really means, as soon as you're below the 1/2 mark, stop and get gas!) I've learned to accept help from stronger (and probably more able bodied) men in carrying items that weigh 50lbs or more or that are awkward. Like I said, its not that I can't do these things, I'm making a choice to not do them. I smile and say "thanks!" and (I like to believe) they were happy to offer me the help.
Its interesting how time, life and experiences change our perspectives. I still think of myself as a feminist, not the "bra burning" type of feminist so popular in the '60s and '70s, but a supporter of and believer in the ability of women. My new brand of "feminism" includes more of a feminine approach. I'm a girl who likes her high-heeled shoes, lots of lip gloss and being pretty. I also like being one of the guys and consider myself to be a pretty tough chick (I have been called "muscles" by my sisters!) I've even been known to let a guy order for me on a date (without biting his head off--which would have happened back in college!) But now, sometimes its nice to be able to sit back and let a man change the tire, carry the heavy box or even treat you like a lady and get a door for you or order your meal. I just hope they don't revoke my "feminist" card, because I still believe women have so much more than the amazing abilities of child bearing and homemaking to offer this world!
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1 comment:
my family used to call me construction worker barbie because I was thin and cute but I would work in woods shop and in the yard with the boys. now, I ask ash to do everything- even unclog the drain or toilet.
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