We CAN Do It.

In fact, we did do it. And we're going to do it again.

By "it," I mean changing the oil in my lovely little Subaru Forrester, and by "we," I mean me.

This marks the second at-home oil change I've had a part in since I was accidentally taught how to change the power steering fluid by self-professed car expert, Whatshisname (quien quedará Numero Uno en mi listo de Ellos Quien No Me Gustan).

3 months/3,000 miles ago, I tried on my own for the first time to locate the oil filter and the little bolt that stops up the tank (that may not be the technical term), and succeeded without too much trouble. Brian was kind enough to show me where they weren't, so the only other filter-and-bolt-looking things had to be them.

I had a hell of a time getting the bolt unscrewed, so I called in some muscle in the form of my dad, but even he couldn't get the damn thing loose. Finally, with the help of an electric socket wrench drill thing (again, maybe not the technical term), the bolt flew off and oil poured out all over my arms, face, and hair. Gross. I made a mental note not to start an oil change when I have to go somewhere within a few hours.

I know I've told a few people jokingly that I'd like to grow up to be a grease monkey, but secretly (or not so much anymore) I've really always loved the idea of being the owner of the pair of coverall'd legs sticking out from under your car that you expect to belong to some guy named Earl with a three day beard and disgustingly dirty fingernails. But au contraire. The crawler rolls out from under your Chevy and a sexy, motor oil-covered Olivia comes into view. And I guess she does have dirty fingernails. But she just fixed your carburetor and replaced your catalytic converter.

So maybe that fantasy is a tad unrealistic (I don't envision living my entire life on a mechanic's salary), but I would like to be able to find my way around under the hood of my car with confidence. So far, I can easily change the tires, air filter, oil, and headlights on my Forrester. And I'm comfortable enough with the user's manual to change the spark plug if necessary. My next goal is converting a diesel to run on recycled vegetable oil. Si se puede.

But I digress. I did it this time completely without help. I did send my dad to AutoZone to get all the supplies (and most importantly, pay for them), but that detracts nothing from my feministic glory. The oil filter wrench I had from last time inexplicably decided to not work at all, so the car had to sit for a day until someone bought a rubber adjustable wrench, which is now near the top of my Best Things Ever list. Those things are amazing. They require absolutely zero effort to loosen/tighten anything (provided you can figure out how to work one of them), and they fit into tiny places.

So. In the future, this will probably be predominately a knitting blog, but rest assured that all the yarn-geekiness will be interspersed with rants and bitching like every good blog should be.