getting older, and all that it implies.

Whether out of ignorance or just because, I'm that girl who rarely does anything for herself. My boss says I'm an expert at using my feminine wiles to get what I want. Anything to do with my car or my house, somehow always gets done and usually without too much pleading of stupidity. Most people just assume. ;)

I've not had to work for my voice, my body or my naturally yet not too curly hair. I have always possessed a healthy (and somewhat astounding) self-esteem, a confidence that seems to defy much reason. I've embraced my natural creativity, and learned to love the way I am wired. I am surrounded by people who love all these things about me, and have never compelled me to change.

I have, over time, grown and learned to confront, to discern truth, and to allow myself to feel pain. Working things out from within is an ability in its own right, but the more I live on my own the more I recognize the need for practical know-how. And Wikipedia doesn't count.

In October I watched my brother run a marathon. He'd trained for months, and one very rainy Sunday he took to the streets of downtown Portland. I never would've thought watching from the sidelines would be exciting, but it was one of the most incredible things I've ever beheld. And I took away a deep desire to work for something. Don't get me wrong, I've spent over seven years in the corporate world and I didn't get there without hard work. But those gifts and abilities, are what came natural to me. I've rarely taken something on if I didn't have a good idea what I was doing. The things I didn't know, someone else did. This was/is my backwards way of walking the fine line between playing the part of a princess, and succumbing to complete independence.

Not that I'm against being helped. But as I get older, I've realized there are things I want to know. Like how to use Adobe Lightroom, cook good food, and how to replace my windshield wipers. The latter of which I had to check the manual for, but it's a far cry from my usual response which is to wait and see if I can't figure it out based on logic and a heavy dose of pride. Eventually you begin to value the efficient use of time over bragging rights. Most of the time, all those do is make you look an ass anyway.

This weekend I decided I wanted to learn canning. What has ever stopped me except the inability to read, or the impatience associated with reading a cookbook? I grabbed Robin and Cassie and, in the midst of the biggest snowstorm of the year, drove to my parents house. Thankfully Robin is driving an urban assault vehicle, a rental compliments of a unibrowed college girl who ran her off the road (her words, not mine) and that baby handles like a champ. It took us two hours, after all was said and done: a stop for coffee, a stop for snacks, and a stop for rum after Mom called to say Dad had shoveled the driveway three times and needed a pick-me-up. We made it to the house, had unloaded half of the supplies (though not the ones we needed, i.e. fruit, canning pot, etc.) when the Tahoe locked itself. In theory, this is a good idea most of the time, and usually as long as the keys aren't inside. We waited an hour and a half for AAA to show up and passed the time by bundling up in my sisters' sweatpants and fleeces to jump off the back deck.

Exhibit A:

Then they showed up. Then we got to work. And it was enlightening. I now have 9 jars of pear-raspberry jam, am impressed with myself and don't care who knows it. I'm no Suzy Homemaker, but it's a step up from lighting the stove on fire. Which, for the record, has only happened once.