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I just want you all to know that I changed the spark plug wires in my car. Yes, my friends, I went from idiotic novice to a bone fide fucking mechanic in a few short days (and roughly half a dozen calls to my father).

I had my oil changed in our office building�s parking garage (less ghetto than it sounds) and the mechanic who worked on my car told me (to my then-car-ignorant ears) that I needed �new wires.� He didn�t have the parts, but he could order them, and I could do it myself for a lot cheaper, yada yada yada (I kind of tuned him out at that point). So, I pretended to know exactly what he was talking about and walked up to the counter at the car parts store on Saturday and had an exchange that went something like this:

Me: Hi, yeah, I need new wires.
Car Parts Store Employee: What kind of wires, ma�am?
Me: The ones coming out of that thing in the middle.

We eventually figured out what I needed. (Spark plug wires for the L4 model of a �99 Chevy Cavalier.)

I called my dad about 6 times to ask various questions and with his help, my own observations and a few close-calls, I now know where the spark plugs are, where (and what) the distributor cap is, and how to go about changing the spark plug wires on my car. I used tools! And got my hands all greasy and gross! I even caught a hangnail and bled a little!

And so, I found myself tonight, (after some flashlight help from Dr. No) walking away from my car with grease under my fingernails and the deviant wire dangling from my grasp (slow-mo style with Tomoyasu Hotei�s Battle Without Honor or Humanity playing� in my head.)

I am a total fucking badass.