thank god for men

Zane has just taken my car to the gas station to put air in my tire and, if it deflates, straight to the tire store. I realize this is the most non-feminist thing in the world to say (well, ok, not even close but whatever) but THANK GOD FOR MEN. Men like Zane that is. Look, I love Santa Fe with all its gender identity, metrosexual, ambisexual stuff. I do. I like living somewhere where everyone is whatever. But, for whatever reason, at the end of the day, I am a girl's girl. I wear freaking barrettes in my hair and belts made out of glitter and ribbon and have to constrain myself from buying Hello Kitty paraphanelia. The one time I put air in my own tire the tire imploded on the highway and I had to wait for someone to stop and help me. I realize I should devote some time to being more selfsufficient about these things, but I'm just not good at it. I'm not a woman who will ever want to work on a car or build a bookshelf and rescue from these things by men with tools and air pumps makes me happy. I give back! I'm an excellent reader (OK not an obviously feminine quality or one that is useful) and I bake a good poundcake and… OK, truth be told, I'm lacking in certain obvious feminine traits too, such as the ability to cook or clean or decorate. So basically you just have someone with strong reading and writing skills and a penchant for accessories. And a great memory for song lyrics. And a sweet tooth. Note to self: work on improving.