Mechanic Pants and Freedom Jeeps


I played mechanic today.

My Jeep had some mechanical errors. And I'm not gonna a lie. It rocked my world a bit. 

I know what you're thinking. Oh so sad for you little princess. #firstworldproblems

And to that, I would say... "Yea... I know eh? This chick needs to calm the F down"

But there's much more to this picture than just a broken down Jeep.

Let me explain...

So to give you a little context, Lola (yes I've named my Jeep and she is gorgeous), she's about 22 years old. So in car years, she's getting on.

There's nothing fancy about her. She's essentially a metal box on wheels with a few analog style dials and a stick shift.

Sometimes the window roller doesn't work, she rattles like crazy, you can't hear music unless it's on full blast when you're going down the highway, one of the head lights is out, there are no seats in the back, and my seat belt is a combination of a back seat belt and front belt causing me to have to work really hard to connect the two pieces.

Safe? Nope. Sexy? Yes? 

Considering her rather "colorful" past and general falling apartness, I didn't pay much mind to the fact that putting her into reverse was getting increasingly difficult. I just thought "ah she'll be fiiiine"


Things got worse. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn't shift it in to reverse AT ALL.

Cut to me trying to parallel park in a VERY public place and not being able to put it in reverse. 


I had to get realllll creative there.

It finally got to the point where I couldn't shift into any gears. At all. First? Nope. Second? Nice try Bob. Third? We done yet?

Insert minor breakdown here.

I had a bit an internal "why can't anything just go in my favor for god freaking sakes" moment at this point.

Which seems a little silly and childish. But looking back I realize why.

Lola is more than just  Jeep that I've bestowed a human name and personality traits upon. She's a symbol of my freedom.

Without her, I feel stuck. Like I have my hands tied and can't get out.

There are few things that really get me upset. One being when I feel as if my freedom has been taken away or hindered in any way.

Our desire to feel free as humans is one of the strongest forces.

It begs the question, what makes you feel free? And are you living that life? Or taking steps in that direction?

If not, it might be time to course correct.

Do you feel free in the life you're living now? Or do you feel more like a sad whale at Sea World. Swiming around the same damn tank over and over again wondering where the fuck your ocean is.

What gives you the feeling of freedom are the breadcrumbs on the path of life. Follow those damn crumbs as far as they will take you. 

So if you're still reading this I have 2 things to say #1 you are a champion with a ninja like attention span. And #2 you might be wondering what happened to the Jeep...

Turns out poor Lola was fresh out of brake fluid. From what I understand that would be like being fresh outta knee cartilage. #hateitwhenthathappens

So I pulled up my big girl pants, asked my boyfriend to drive me to the nearest gas station to pick up some Dot 3 brake fluid.

I then switched out of my big girl pants and put on my mechanic pants,  called my Dad and little brother, and got my hands nice and greasy.

You'll probably be very relieved to know that she now shifts like a dream. I will be enjoying a freedom cruise with her as soon as I finish this blog post.

So cheers to you and your freedom. In whatever form it comes.