Heeeeeeeere's Testy!

I've run across some old copies of Import Service they were giving away at school. The articles are informative (despite being old as sin...) and I'm amazed what I'm starting to understand because of my well invested education. It's kinda cool to see my knowledge growing. Though, the best part of the magazines is their covers. Someone on the editorial staff had a good sense of humor. Here are a few for your enjoyment....



this next one reminds me of all the discussions we had about "CRAFT" in architecture school...







Be sure to read all the items in the pantry....they make the picture...



This one could be a Dateline special.



And are beloved friend....



I hope you enjoyed these as much as I do each time I look at them.

Battery acid does a body good.

I've finished about a week and a half of my first electrical class. We cover the basics like electrons are negative, protons are positive. Ohhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhh. Exciting stuff. It's not really that bad. In fact, I enjoy the electrical side of things, so far. We've soldered a couple of jumper wires and made a logic probe (has a tiny LED light in it that glows red for positive and green for negative, logically). It all reminds me of a time long, long ago....

In KY they have a program called Governor's Scholars. It's basically a 5-week dork camp for high school juniors. It's crazy to think there was such an abundance of kids that WANTED to study stuff for the summer. I was one of the chosen dorks in my day. Each kid got to pick a major to focus on studying while we lived on a college campus during the summer. My major was physical science. Besides taking home extra weight from the cafeteria food and numerous shirts that screamed "I AM A DORK!", I made a little burglar alarm. I soldered all the bits and pieces together and programmed a tiny chip to send a loud signal to a speaker whenever the light on sensor got too low. Super dorky. That summer is what drove me to start studying engineering in college. Electrical engineering specifically. So now I sit in my electrical class loving every minute of it. Everything comes full circle.

My new teacher is great. Each one of the teachers has been drastically different from the previous one. This guy specializes in alternative fuels. He rides a bike to work. I find it amazingly ironic that a guy that teaches automotive service for a job doesn't drive a car to work. Anyone else? Kinda like me going from not owning a car to seeking to repair them for as living. Good textbook irony here. The guy also has the driest sense of humor. I often have a hard time catching his jokes. Sometimes I can't even tell when he's joking. Like the instance when he asked a kid who shaved his head over the weekend if he did it because he had lice. Who asks someone that? Was he serious? God only knows.....

I quit my job at the corporate tire service place this week. I made a point to tell my manager when I started that I couldn't work more than 35 hours a week because I'm in school full time. As the schedule came out my hours were creeping up higher and higher. Then one of the other guys quit and my hours jumped some more. And the manager was looking for more and more business. And I was leaving 2 hours late from work. And I wasn't getting breaks. And I was the only one scheduled to close (how does that work....me, by myself, as the only tech on staff for 2 hours a night....you know my experience level...). So I walked in and told the manager that I can't work 50 hours a week and go to school. School comes first. With no sympathy or willingness to change the schedule, he said he can't turn business away, and that was that. Out the door I went. I miss the work, but not some dumbass redneck of a boss that views his employees as a slave to getting his bonus check. I'll find a better job. Anyone know a good shop in Portland that's in need of an entry level shop helper?

ps. Battery acid is seriously not a good thing, in case you didn't know. ;)

for god sakes, just stay current on your oil changes.

Enter into the world of seeing customer's cars. The joy of seeing how crappy one person can treat a car. Oil changes? Who needs 'em?!? Right now at work I am the scrub that mainly just does oil changes. It's ok with me, but you definitely get a glimpse of some interesting stuff when you hop into the driver's seat of a stranger's car. I hadn't really thought about the variations between how people treat their cars until this week. And what I saw was nothing....just the tip of the iceberg. One had a thick layer of pet hair. On everything. Every surface. Hair. Lots. Ick. Then there was the car that had a Barbie straddling the shifter. For those got-to-play-with-dolls-NOW urges. Ok.

Beyond oil changes I've started repairing and replacing tires on cars. I changed out a worn out tire for a new one where the old tire was TOAST. There was steel coming out of the tread. The customer only bought one tire but upon further inspection needed another front one. Ever seen a balled tire? Did they buy another new one? Nope. Anyone heard of fix-a-flat? The shit is supposed to....ready for this genius.....fix your flat. From the inside of the tire the shit looks like watered down elmer's glue. I don't really see how something that looks like it should be used for paper maiche is supposed to hold together thick rubber at high speeds. And, then there are the people that use it on tires that are completely separated into all its little pieces. The tire looked like a cutaway diagram of the layers of the earth....."this layer was formed 20 million years ago with pressure and heat." Not going to work.

Then there was the car that was my peak of under maintenance for the week. When I checked the dipstick it was dry, and when I drained the oil, barely any came out. The tire pressure on each tire was in the teens when it should be in the thirties. The best part was the result of this abuse to the car. One of my co-workers took the time to point out valve clatter on the engine. Valve clatter is a sign of under maintaining your vehicle and goes to the heart of breathe-ability of your engine. (Engine basics: fire goes boom to move car. Fire needs air and fuel.) Without going into the mechanics of what it is, lets just say it's something that can't be fixed by adding more oil, weird additives to your fuel, or driving the car differently. This is damage that can only be fixed by overhauling the engine. Read: $$$$$$. The car was a VW Passat with 72k on it. Crazy to me that a car with mileage like that can be damaged that much. But, don't do oil changes, or even worse, run your car to the point of having no oil and you can kiss that money you paid for the car bye-bye. The customer told our manager that he figured it was time for an oil change when the oil light came on for a little bit. FOR GOD SAKES DUMBASS! Stop the car!!!!

OK, so I know not everyone has knowledge about cars inherently in their brains when they are born. Education is needed. Some people have to learn lessons about cars the hard way. So this led me to ask my co-worker about how much education they do with customers. "None." I was disturbed by this. I mean, if you're a medical doctor (Erin?) do you let your patient walk away without information to prevent major problems? Don't you at least try to explain the basics so that you can hope they make informed decisions? What people do from the point of knowing better is their problem. But do you just assume that every person has the knowledge already? The girl that bought one tire but really needed two....couldn't someone explain to her that she is close to blowing out the other bad tire. And that the blowout doesn't always happen pretty and easy. How enjoyable is blowing out a tire while you're flying down the interstate? An interstate with no shoulder to move onto. Granted, I think the manager at my shop is creepy and I probably wouldn't buy a tire from him, but there are other people that work in the shop. Other people that aren't so creepy.

You are my friends and I am going to be straight with you. Do your car a good deed and get regular oil changes. Check the air pressure on your tires (air pressure low = lower gas mileage, premature wear of the tire, excessive load on the engine). Check the dipstick on your car when you fill gas. Basics. These are the tiniest things you can do that will keep your money in your pocket. Don't be embarrassed if you didn't know....I don't think I've always been the best at it.

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I got into an argument with a friend's husband about unions and workers about a month ago. He's a manager at a big box store and has been pumped with anti-union BS since day one. He said if people don't like their job/pay they should quit and get a new job. Not form a union. I asked him if he could quit his job tomorrow. He's got a kid and a house. This would be a problem? His statement is in the same category that if people don't like their job doing hard labor for little money and getting no respect then they should go to school and get a better job. I'm single, no kids, no house payment, and I'm telling you that I am struggling with going to school full time and working for $10/hr. How is a person who is trying to raise a family, keep a roof over their head, and food on the table supposed to find the time/money to do all that and go to school to "better themselves"? Why should someone have to leave a job rather than making the job sustainable? And for god sakes, where is compassion for other people and their struggles? On the flip side of that, if you hate your life, I do believe work can be done to make it better. Some people are lucky and privileged enough to be able to search for a better life. I am one of those people. I have very little holding me back. Thank god I'm single, have no kids, and don't own a home. And have access to a great education and a supportive family (thanks mom!). Phew.

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On a lighter note: The engine my lab partner and I have been rebuilding reached it's moment of truth. The big thing started up and ran! For only a few seconds but just long enough for me to start jumping up and down with glee!

Underneath this grease and grime is a lady.

Again, another exhausting week. I don't know how I'm going to keep this pace up. Keeping up writing about my experiences is difficult. I've stopped showering everyday (hard to believe since I am in love with hot showers)....my eating habits are in the toilet....it's getting bad. All work and no play makes katie CRAZY ASS TIRED.

Got my uniforms for work yesterday. They are dead sexy. Especially the navy jacket with my name on it! When people do the double takes to check if they are really seeing a female in the shop, the name on the uniform makes it stick as reality. I'll try to get a picture out to show people how amazing unattractive men's pants look on females. The bottom of the pant leg is tapered and they are pressed by the laundry service to have neat creases in the front. Snazzy. I keep all sorts of implements in my shirt pocket: air gauge, tread depth gauge, pen, tiny screwdriver for prying. What I really need is a pocket protector.

And then there are the black carhart overalls I bought this week. They are heaven! I no longer have to worry about destroying all my t-shirts at school. love love love em!

One thing I've noticed about the work clothes thing is that I feel weird wearing my real-life pants now. They are tighter (partly my eating habits tanking I think) and made for women, but they feel foreign. I don't dress up for school so I rarely put on anything other than grubby men's pants I bought at salvation army. A big benefit is that my laundry quantity is at an all time low. All work uniforms are washed commercially and hung on nice little hangers in the break room at work. Changing into these uniforms has been interesting, since everyone uses the break room. We take turns. However there isn't a lock on the door, so I usually end up changing frantically, worried that one of the guys is going to bust in on me in my panties. (Just a thought, but I think with all the masculinity in my life it's time to upgrade to the most feminine underwear I can find.) My hands are becoming anything but beautiful. My thumbnail is purple from smashing it this week. My arms are black and blue (so many of you have seen my narly bruises before - remember my bike bruise on my inner thigh? Definitely bruise easily). I'm not sweating it though. I barely had nails to begin with.

So, to add to another reason to hate domestics, my teacher pointed out that a lot of GM's use faux gauges on the dash. Let me explain. Everyone familiar with the oil light or gauge? It comes on when your oil pressure drops below a level that the engine needs to operate correctly (read: light comes on, SERIOUSLY bad for the car. May be too late. PULL OVER IMMEDIATELY!). The gauges typically show the amount of oil pressure the car has and will fluctuate just a tad when you accelerate. There is a valve that handles the excess pressure and brings it back into an even range. The light works by a little diaphragm that pushes against a switch to hold open a circuit. Not enough pressure the circuit is closed and the light comes on. Get it? Anyways, long explanation to bring me to tell you that GM puts gauges in cars that operate the same way the light does. Either is has pressure or it doesn't. On or off. Just an tad bit deceiving. I told a tech at work about it. His response: all cars are garbage. Ok then. He sees it like this: garbage = job. Simple enough.

Class is moving along. We are almost to the point of putting our engines back together and running them. Keep your fingers crossed cause our engine has all sorts of problems. Can't even begin to explain....I'm very nervous.

One guy at work is quitting. He's inexperienced and in school, like me. The manager yells at him constantly. They have done very little to show him how to be good at his job. I asked him if, above all, he thinks they treat him differently because he's mexican. Response: yes. I was EXTREMELY disappointed to hear this. The manager is a total redneck. What is this going to mean for me as a woman? I'm going to miss the guy. He's becoming a good friend and is extremely supportive. He told me just yesterday how in awe he is to watch a woman work in the shop. Blush. Ah shucks....

I'm sure there is more to tell, I just can't think of anything else. All I can focus on is food and sleep. And my aching feet.

Oh, there was finally talk about hosing out the bathroom at work. One step in the right direction.

I got this awesome t-shirt and some union swag.

So, the Oregon Tradeswomen career fair. It was awesome! Stephanie and I noticed the ad in the paper on Friday and decided that attendance was an absolute MUST. There were all sorts of employers there for every trade imaginable. And the best part, lots of women from all sorts of trades. There were different workshops on all sorts of things - welding, sheet metal fabrication, pipe bending, etc. We made a flower pot out of sheet metal and MIG welded one piece of metal to another piece of metal. Cool. I was so pumped up and excited when I got out of there. We discovered the Association of Women in Automotives group which meets monthly (funny, because the women's architecture group I started had the same acronym, AWA). I bought an amazing t-shirt with a woman carrying a giant wrench on it. And I got a free keychain that is a miniature hardhat with a headlamp that lights up. Oh, and a cardboard penny bank that folds up to the shape of a bus. Cool. Hehe.

One of the things that impressed me the most was the diversity of women at the fair. All ages, ethnic backgrounds, sexuality, femininity, etc. It made me think about how much I wish I'd been exposed to the trades when I was younger. A lot of the jobs are great union jobs with good pay, benefits, training, etc. In fact, I think I'm going to apply for a job with the local transportation authority. They pay for your school, your time while you're at school, benefits and time at work. Oh, and a free bus pass. Portland has one of the best public transportation systems and are running diesel hybrid buses. How cool is that.

School is going well overall. I got an 'A' in my intro class and Stephanie and I got the best grade in the class on our aluminum block project (we tapped out threaded holes and sawed off a corner on a piece of aluminum). Our old teacher came in and bragged on us to our new teacher. I'm a nerd, I know. We've been learning a lot of tricks from our female teacher about how she gets around some things she can't muscle through easily. Key word: leverage (think seesaw on the playground with a fat kid on one end). Big long tools get the job done easier.

Something that was pointed out to me a week or two ago: how many things in a car have names that are synonyms for male genitalia . Shaft. Rod. Nuts. You get the point. If they didn't have those synonyms would everything be called penis? Just like the idea that tall buildings are a representation of penis envy between male architects. Would women name the pieces and parts the same if they had been the primary designers for cars?

My class right now makes me daydream about rebuilding my motorcycle. It was inherited from my dad and I get really excited thinking about how what I'm learning in class can be directly transfered to taking apart and rebuilding the engine. How I dream about getting that thing running...You know, it might be kinda cool to be a motorcycle mechanic....So many opportunities.

On being a woman...I get asked every other day why I am in automotives. That, and the guys at work (really this only comes from the management) try to say things to discourage me. Like,"You know your going to be dirty all the time." Or "You know how much money you're going to have to spend on tools?" For once I want to hear, "This profession has been good to me. It can be good to you to." Something like that. I guess it has something to do with where I am working right now. This kid at work that is in training for management (note: he has never worked on a car but yet he is being primed to manage a shop. Does anyone else see a major problem with this?) tried to get me in trouble with the higher ups. He told them I refused to do something that he asked me to do, when in actuality I had jokingly said no, laughed and then did what he asked. It must also be noted that said it in context of a conversation where we were all joking around with each other. Management = assholes. I suppose that's why people end up owning their own business. Maybe one day....

will someone give me a footrub?

This week has been a long one. I started work on Monday so now my days consist of school from 7am to noon then work from 1pm till 7 or 8pm. I'm tired. No, EXHAUSTED. I am not used to being on my feet and working my ass off for 12+ hours. I get home and can barely pull enough brain power together to find food. I've been so busy that I had to take notes on the things I wanted to write about so when I did find enough time to post something, I'd remember all the awesomeness.

Work, so far, is pretty good. The shop has it's good points and bad points. My coworkers are nice, but mostly inexperienced. One of the guys has been there 11 years and another one 2. Everyone else is either in school or just graduated. There are also two smart-asses in management. I don't find the shop especially all that clean and the variety of work that comes in is nil. Lots of oil changes and mounting tires. It's a good beginner job and give me the opportunity to be around cars and gather experience to get a better job down the road. The head boss sees it as important to try to schedule me for as many hours as possible. I can't figure out why bosses see running their employees to the bone as a good thing. What about turnover, dumbasses? Although, my last job definitely showed this oversight, so I really shouldn't be surprised. Each of the guys is extremely supportive when it comes to teaching me things.

Cristo taught me about "Sancho." He says this to Jacobo every time he sneezes. In Mexican culture, apparently, by saying this, he is referencing the man who "takes care" of men's wives why they are away at work. This man is called a Sancho. Thus, when they get home, the wife is tired and not interested in sex with her husband. By saying "Sancho" when another man sneezes he is saying that it is a signal that Sancho is enjoying that man's wife at that moment. He then told me when a man comes home and questions his wife about what the man is doing under the bed his wife responds with, "I don't know what that man is doing under the bed, but on top of the bed, my-oh-my." Sancho.

The biggest complaint I have about work: the bathroom. It looks like someone died in it....10 years ago....and it hasn't been cleaned since. There is NO women's restroom, except for the customer multi-sex bathroom I'm discouraged to use. I've been working on timing my restroom breaks to before and after work, so I minimize the chance of having to step foot in the danger-zone. My coworkers use it like a break room, easily spending quality time handling "personal business" on a regular basis. I can't understand men's ability to look past the cleanliness of toilets.

I've had some amazingly educational moments and stupefying scary moments this week. I had one moment that scared me so much my stomach did a huge flip. I'd rather not talk about it in detail....but let's just say I'll think twice about following coworker's orders. My biggest highlight was helping to pull the rear differential out of an Explorer and re-seal it. It was a great pick-me-up from rough morning.

This week has been a challenge emotionally because I'm fighting my competitive streak and perfectionism. My lab partner and I are the slowest in the class, which drives me crazy. I can't seem to let go of my desire to be first. It's torturing me. And on top of it, I feel completely out of my element. I know almost nothing about what we are doing in class (engine disassembly and reassembly) and have this nagging part of me that can't seem to deal with that fact. I can't seem to put these two traits of mine to rest for now. They are traits that can come in handy at times and be a nuisance at others. For now, they have to go, because, of all things, they are disturbing my sleep. Nothing will come between me and the rare chance I get to sleep.

which, leads me to say goodnight. There is so much more, but for now it will have to wait. I MUST go to bed. Tomorrow I'll type up an big spiel about the Oregon Tradeswomen career fair I attended today....I got a chance to WELD! Yeah, so more to come, I promise....

g'night!