I consider myself to be exceptionally handy. I blame my grandfather and my father. When we were little, my grandfather would stick my cousin and I outside on the workbench with a 2x4, some nails, and a hammer and have us 'practice' hammering nails. He either had high hopes of us being carpenters, or wanted to keep us busy so he could go do something else. I'm guessing both. And for college graduation, when my roommates got an Audi and diamond earrings, my dad gave me a power drill and a 287 piece tool set. Oh, and a bottle of Dom to keep things classy. At the time I was perturbed, however now I appreciate the fact that I know how to hang a shelf with a molly bolt all on my own...and they just get to drive around all bejeweled in their fancy cars. So there...I guess. I'd still like some bling and a fancy car. *sigh*
It's safe to say that I'm also handier (Is that a word? Now it is.) than 90% of the guys I've dated.
Me (sophomore in college): Would you hand me that allen wrench so I can finish assembling your office chair?
Boyfriend: What's an allen wrench?
Me: Um, this isn't going to work out.
Not sure where I'm going with this whole post, but I think it stemmed from me going all emo on a $14.99 table from IKEA a couple of weeks ago. I called my parents in tears (Yes, I cried real tears over the fact that I couldn't put a freakin' side table together. Yes, I thought I was better than that too. I'm not). It was all because of the stupid allen wrench and allen bolts and allen holes. I then poured some wine, got over myself, and sent the table to my dad so he could deal with it. In one fatal swoop he had it all put together. Seriously?! I thought about buying another one so I could have a pair, but I let go of that idea real fast. I painted the table gold and threw it in the living room. Doesn't look too shabby!
Pictures to come in the next post so you can see my handy-work!