I'm not one to brag, but… wait, what am I saying, yes I am. This week's sermon talked about not boasting in yourself, but boasting in the Lord's attributes. So, let's start over. I am not one to brag, but God did a great job with my brain. Or maybe God did a really great job with making me resourceful, it's one or the other. (He's still working on making me humble.)

I can't say I'm super great at fixing cars, because that would be a flat out lie, but I am super great at breaking them.

When I was in high school, my car battery would die every day because my brake lights would stick on, so every morning I had to unplug my freaking battery and then plug it back in at the end of the day. I thought I was a complete bad ass using a tool under the hood. In my memories, I am Megan Fox.

When I was in college, I wrecked my car so many times that my insurance stopped covering the replacement rental, so one time my roommate let me use his car for weeks while mine was in the shop. That was very nice of him, considering I had hit a parked UPS truck, so he knew I wasn't like the safest driver that's ever driven the planet or anything.

Now that I'm in my MID FREAKING TWENTIES, don't you think I would stop breaking my car?

Yes you would think that. But this is not the case. Now this time, I cannot say I broke it, per sayyyy, but I can say that I did not NOT break it.

Story goes like this:

Out of gas, picking up a girlfriend for morning coffee. Turned my car off while waiting for her because she's not known for being super speedy before coffee (nobody is known for that). When I turned the car back on, my dashboard was completely out. "Totally fine," I thought, "my car is just mad at me for not putting gas in her!"

Yes, Asia, because cars have feelings and are retaliatory and spiteful. Yep.

I get to the gas station. Penny- that's my car's name, because she's a Prius and saves me a lot of pennies- Penny does not want to turn off. She is PISSED. So, I do what every girl would do, I think of the first boy I can call. My short-list of capable males that are willing to help a lovely woman like myself with car troubles has recently diminished for obvious reasons, so I discarded that option, and went to my second choice: Google. THANKFULLY there is a video titled "If your Prius' dashboard lights are out and car won't turn off, do this." HALLELUJAH for the vast, vast internet.

It was supposed to be easy.

All you have to do is pop the trunk, access the battery, unplug it, wait 30 seconds, then replug it in. Easy. So, I get out and try to pop the trunk. Trunk isn't budging. Trunk opens electrically. Penny has no electricity. Trunk is sealed closed forever and ever. No problem, Penny. I will just crawl through the back! The benefits of having a hatchback.

As soon as I lay down my seats, though, I realize the back of my car is full of CRAP from helping a friend move recently. So I had to dismantle the seats, move TONS AND TONS AND TONS of stuff out of the way, lift up the entire panel, spare tire and everything to access the FREAKING A BATTERY. I hate that YouTube guy.

Then I spend… oh, 12 minutes trying to undo the casing around my battery.

Also, did I mention I'm in tight/potentially see-through yoga pants with my behind sticking up in the air out my car for the whole world to see?

Just giving all of San Luis Obispo a show. You're welcome.

After that 12 minute of nail breaking work, I go back to Plan A:

Boys.

I had been Facebook chatting with a friend of a friend, and he has a beard so I figured he was probably not un-handy with vehicles, and Facebook lets you creepily call people via their messenger app, so I called this bearded guy who I didn't know at all at 8 in the morning and begged for help. He was ready and willing to send over some of his minions, but I felt bad for commissioning a bunch of boys on a Wednesday morning to help me with my poor battery. I also realized that my car was a complete freaking disaster and I definitely wanted zero boys to see the contents of my destroyed car. Also, no boy would fit in the tiny space back there. Well, some boys would I'm sure, who am I to say?

Anyway. I could not get the casing off the battery. So I just pulled on whatever was accessible. I was like "You look like a plug!" and unplugged it.

I could've killed somebody.

I mean, I don't think that unplugging anything has ever caused an explosion, but I'M NOT A MECHANIC I DON'T KNOW!

Karly, who has been doing her make up in the passenger seat and taking pictures of my butt in the air- you know, offering top quality moral support- shrieked "It's on, it's on!". I fixed the car. I freaking did it. It was a freaking MIRACLE FROM GOD.

And from that day on, I have been convinced I'm a rockstar.

The end.

Take aways:

1. You do not need boys to fix your car. YOU CAN DO IT! 2. You need YouTube, though. 3. Actually, it was a boy who made the YouTube video, but that's not the point. 4. But, keep a short list of bearded vehicular savvy boys on call, just in case. 5. Always keep your car clean. 6. Don't wear yoga pants to the gas station.

Tons of love,

Asia

I Broke My Car, Then I Fixed It & Other Ways To Be A Rockstar