Whip My Hair - Katie Gavin

Whip My Hair
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sp-wFsrM-Ng

All my Ladies if you feel me
You know blogs are a way to lay out what you are thinking about at that moment, but they aren't who you are.  Wait...that isn't right either.  Okay, this is the story.  I am divorced, but I am not defeated.  Some of my blogs might seem to imply that.  They couldn't be further from the truth.  So here is my whip my hair story. 

I am a daughter of a man who could fix anything.  I am a daughter of a man who would have shown a daughter how to fix the lawn mower if she had shown any interest as well as he would have shown a son.  But I didn't show any interest.  I was a girl and girls didn't fix things.  I did take a semester of auto body.  First girl in the Jefferson County school system to do so I believe.  Well, when the principal explained to my dad why I couldn't take it, they said no girl ever had.  And none did, until me.  Painting cars isn't really mechanical though.  I always felt I had No, none, nada skills of the mechanical kind.

When married, my husband fixed anything that needed to be fixed.  I wished I had told him more that I appreciated it.  I was just happy there was at least one thing that wasn't my job and I let that be his world.  I called all mechanical things, Blue stuff.  Blue as in done by a boy, not mine, no way no how. I never asked questions, I never thought that maybe someday I might need to know how to do simple things.  I took for granted; he would fix all my broken things forever.  He didn't. 

So the day after my divorce, I bought a house.  A little fixer-upper.  My brother came down and spent a week getting things sorted and repaired.  He left me with tools and a good luck hug.  He worked his ass off, but I think he thought he would be fixing things for me for the rest of my life.  My ex lives just down the road and I know he would come if ever I called.  My Superman would help me too, but I will confess he is not the fix it man my ex was.  That is good.  I have grown to like my ex again.  We don't talk too much but whatever we need to say or want to say seems to go well, with kindness.  I like to say, I didn't divorce him, I divorced loving him.  I like him.  That is better.  I also divorced the bad things.  I don't have to wonder if he is telling a lie, or about to turn my world upside down.  Those things are gone between us and I like the healthy place we have landed. Yet, I still don't want him to save me either.  I want to whip my fucking hair.

So I got this house.  I have a garage.  I had some tools I had been collecting for inside the house things.  I had screw drivers, a hammer and a drill.  When my dad died I got the tool box out of his car and I kept those tools.  Wrenches, sockets, pliers, and some things I wasn't sure what they were.  My brother left me some tools when he went back home.  I had power tools, a nail gun, levels, a sawzall.  I had amassed some serious shit.  So I asked my kids to put a tool box on my Christmas list.  I was thinking about the red, $129 one at Lowes.  Instead I got a three piece black Craftsman tool box, complete with drawer liners.  My baby boy bought it.  It was some serious cash.  Did I mention he was a college student?  Anyway, my daddy had a craftsman tool box, red, not black.  We used to sit in front of it on a bar stool while he pulled out our teeth with the same pliers he fixed the lawn mower with.  We begged him to pull them.  We wanted the quarter. Hey, life was less abundant back then.  Anyway, I have this big ass tool box and I put all my tools in there.  I got more than most men.  Well, if they could ever have them all in one place, who knows.  But they are all in there, sorted, aligned, and mine. 

So again I got this house and I got this big ass tool box and well karma kicked a little dirt in my face.  I jerked the hand sprayer on the sink cause it kept hanging on something.  So I jerked it and it came free, and then the door under the sink blew open and sprayed gallons of water a minute on my thighs.  I keep my head up I know I will be fine.  Keep fighting until I get there. When I am down and I feel like giving up I think again... I whip my hair back and forth. 

 And in that moment I had no choice but to do it.  I turned the water off and after a couple of phone calls and a quick read up on how to join PVC pipe, I went to the store and bought what I needed.  I waited for super man to stop by and see if I had figured it out right he said it sounded like I had it.  Secret, with the internet you can fix almost anything,  Anyway I sent superman home and I fixed  what I had broke. He offered to help, but I wanted to do it myself.  I learned a few tricks.  Since then, I have re-plumbed a tub, rebuilt old faucets, fixed several leaks, replaced two outdoor faucets, installed new lighting fixtures, fixed my push mower, figured out that my r-11  resister was blown on my Maytag Neptune and that I would spend more fixing it than a new one cost. 

I never thought I could be this person.  I am so not broken.  I am so not down trodden.  I love this life.  I love every new thing I learn. I am thinking that I can learn enough to live some day in a third world country and take care of things enough to help myself.  It doesn't matter if it's long or short, short or long. Do it do it, whip your hair"

I am in a whip my hair... kinda life...and I like it.