I can do it myself...help.

I'm fretting. It's what women do. Worry and metaphorically wring their hands.

As a single gal homeowner, there is plenty to fret about. Today's concern is water in the basement. I'm at work and fear what's waiting for me at home. Maybe a closet full of towels can contain any damage, but some sort of shop vac may be required. I don’t own a shop vac.

Fortunately, my new beau does. Along with Craftsman tools, a stainless steel grill, Costco membership and the ability to perform car maintenance in his garage. It’s all very impressive. And completely out of my realm of talent.

So goes the modern girl’s dilemma. We have careers, manage finances, juggle social lives, take care of family and sometimes raise children on our own. We can do it all. But do we have to? Is it pathetic to let someone else install a faucet?

Last Sunday the wheel came off the lawnmower mid-mow and my floral tool set (thanks, Dad) couldn’t make the repair. Feminist convictions wavered. Go to Home Depot and spend two hours fixing it. Or call David.

It took him four minutes. Good as new.

We’ve had this debate before. As I bemoaned not owning a cordless drill and tall ladder, David informed me what I really needed was a man. I bristled. I can clean gutters/replace well windows/plant landscaping myself, I told him. And he agreed. But it would be so much easier if I accepted help. So I did.

And now a thank you dinner is in order. Where’s my apron?

Comments

White Elephant Gone Wrong

I don't like white elephant (WE) gift exchanges. Yes, they may include laughter and good-natured teasing (I prefer bad-natured teasing), but they include the stress of finding the perfect gift. Plus, I don't believe in re-gifting trash. A box full of old magazines is not a good WE gift. No one wants it. Therefore, you are done with the exchange if you pick this gift, which is what happened to Husband. My viewpoint is not shared with most people. One of those people is my stepmom who in recent years has included WE exchanges at our family Christmas. However, this year I was excited. If you have read my blog, you will know Husband is a saver. (We do not use the word hoarder.) We're also trying to get rid of stuff we no longer need. Husband also has friends that give him funny, ridiculous items that he saves. You can see how all this would add up to somehow already having the perfect WE gift. So there was hope. I'd already identified it - the velvet picture of a ...

I love Russell Brand, even in skinny jeans

Training is about a B- right now. Running has been minimal due to some calf issues. I blame the feet shoes. Boyfriend and I saw Get Him to the Greek last night and found it surprisingly good. (Unlike Hot Tub Time Machine , which we had high hopes for and was only ho-hum.) Laughed to the point of tears several times. Russell Brand can actually act and P Diddy is hilarious. If you like Superbad type humor, you will like this. I ranked it above The Hangover , though Boyfriend didn’t quite agree with that assessment. Followed movie with a scoop of chocolate-peanut butter from Baskin-Robbins. Perfect summer night.

Get This Party Started

So what do you do when you're reclining in a hospital bed, Olympic beach volleyball on the TV and watching petocin slowly drip through an IV into your arm? You blog. As of 3:32pm, all is manageable. Ask me in an hour or two and the tune will most likely be different. Petocin scares the crap out me, but as long as it gets the baby out of me, I'm trying to not freak out. I woke up this morning and greeted the day as a normal Monday. After walking Trudy a few miles and spending 40 minutes on the elliptical, it dawned on me I felt a little crampy, for lack of a better term. And without getting too graphic, I started to wonder if my water had broken. (It was nothing like it's portrayed on television.) So I called a handful of friends and my sister to get some feedback. All signs pointed to yes, so I called my doctor's office which said just go to the hospital. I took Trudy for a second walk while waiting for Husband to get home and try not to overreact. At the hospi...

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