|The inherent inferiority of womanhood:
||[Aug. 8th, 2005|11:58 pm]
Since reaching adulthood, I have changed my car's oil, rewired a lamp, gone on a road trip alone, taken apart/fixed the lawnmower's air filter all by myself, bought a house with no assistance from my parents/a spouse, and countless other triumphs of the unmarried woman living without a man to do these things for her.
So why do I get so flummoxed when I unable to OPEN THE FUCKING TOMATO SAUCE JAR? Oh, my kingdom for a strong-handed man!
Note to self: stop buying spagetti sauce in faux-Mason jars, as they set the feminist movement back decades.
Yes, I did the hot water thing and the tapping the lid, and I was finally able to open it. And now my girlish hands hurt.
I swear, next first date I have, I'm bringing a stubborn jar along to test his fitness as a partner.