March 10, 2007
Girl Power! Today, I changed my headlight. GO ME! It was hard, and took for-freaking-ever, but we did it. (This picture is of my friend S, complete with Tiffany's bracelets and manicured fingernails. It looks totally posed, but wasn't at all.)
The entire process was... like a scene from a bad movie. It was Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, stumbling around like we hadn't a clue what we were doing. Which was true; we totally didn't. The woman in the picture in the car manual had perfect nails and NO DIRT and made it look SO EASY!
Before we started, I turned on the lights and asked S, from inside the car, which of the two bulbs was still working (my high beam was fine, just the low beam was out). She told me the one on the end. The process to get the light casing actually out of the car seemed near-impossible for a good, long while. It had eight years of staying put, and it was doing its job well. We finally, finally, after much effort, got the light out. Together we detached the light, wiggled it out of its socket, and tried to put in the replacement. Which didn't fit. BUGGER!
So we found an AutoZone and went to return the unneeded high beam and exchange the low beam for the correct light. I brought the old one in for comparison. While there, S pointed out that the high beam I was returning looked exactly like the old light.
Me: When I asked you which light was still working, which one did you say?
Her: You asked me which light was NOT working, and I told you the one on the end.
Me: No, I asked you which one WAS working, which is actually beside the point, because WHY DID YOU LET ME REMOVE THE WORKING LIGHT IF YOU KNEW WHICH ONE WAS OUT?
Her: ... I honestly don't know.
So I returned the unneeded one and kept the new low-beam I already had. There was definitely a guy who'd overheard the entire thing laughing at us as we left. Matters weren't made better when I left my keys on the counter and had to go back in for them. You always think you won't get very far without your keys, but that's not the case when you weren't the one driving, so I'm glad I remembered before we got all the way back home!
We replaced the light and put everything back together (WAY easier than taking it apart!), and we had SUCCESS! Working headlights! It was very empowering. Especially since about a dozen different guys had walked by us during the hour or so we were buried in the hood of my car, and not ONE of them offered to help. Not one. There was a point where I would have gladly accepted the assistance of someone with a clue, but whatever. When we were in the putting-back-together stage, a guy came by and said "Do you need help? I saw you out here earlier, and you're still at it. Everything okay?" Too little too late, dude. But I'm actually really glad we did it ourselves. GO US!
The entire process was... like a scene from a bad movie. It was Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, stumbling around like we hadn't a clue what we were doing. Which was true; we totally didn't. The woman in the picture in the car manual had perfect nails and NO DIRT and made it look SO EASY!
Before we started, I turned on the lights and asked S, from inside the car, which of the two bulbs was still working (my high beam was fine, just the low beam was out). She told me the one on the end. The process to get the light casing actually out of the car seemed near-impossible for a good, long while. It had eight years of staying put, and it was doing its job well. We finally, finally, after much effort, got the light out. Together we detached the light, wiggled it out of its socket, and tried to put in the replacement. Which didn't fit. BUGGER!
So we found an AutoZone and went to return the unneeded high beam and exchange the low beam for the correct light. I brought the old one in for comparison. While there, S pointed out that the high beam I was returning looked exactly like the old light.
Me: When I asked you which light was still working, which one did you say?
Her: You asked me which light was NOT working, and I told you the one on the end.
Me: No, I asked you which one WAS working, which is actually beside the point, because WHY DID YOU LET ME REMOVE THE WORKING LIGHT IF YOU KNEW WHICH ONE WAS OUT?
Her: ... I honestly don't know.
So I returned the unneeded one and kept the new low-beam I already had. There was definitely a guy who'd overheard the entire thing laughing at us as we left. Matters weren't made better when I left my keys on the counter and had to go back in for them. You always think you won't get very far without your keys, but that's not the case when you weren't the one driving, so I'm glad I remembered before we got all the way back home!
We replaced the light and put everything back together (WAY easier than taking it apart!), and we had SUCCESS! Working headlights! It was very empowering. Especially since about a dozen different guys had walked by us during the hour or so we were buried in the hood of my car, and not ONE of them offered to help. Not one. There was a point where I would have gladly accepted the assistance of someone with a clue, but whatever. When we were in the putting-back-together stage, a guy came by and said "Do you need help? I saw you out here earlier, and you're still at it. Everything okay?" Too little too late, dude. But I'm actually really glad we did it ourselves. GO US!