My sister gave me a rechargeable electric screwdriver last week, my first power tool. I probably would have been OK with one of the cheap ones shaped like a hot dog, but my sister the handywoman insisted that I be able to kick ass with this thing. Her enthusiasm for my conversion was such that she was planning (secretly) on a jigsaw for my upcoming birthday, even though God knows I wouldn’t know a jigsaw from a blender. Being competent has a lot to do with having the right tools, and this is her way of telling me that she loves me. It’s all worked out pretty well because the drill brought out the macho in me, not to mention that the curtain rods went up in no time. I was virtuous; I was fearless; I couldn’t wait to find something else to fix.

There is a dark side to all this testosterone however. A woman gets to her thirties and she’s probably faced down plumbing crisis and money problems and even getting dresses zipped up in back. She has all the toasters and blenders and silverware she needs. Not much motivation for a big white wedding. So proficient that we don’t really need all the handyman/provider/helpmate qualities that men traditionally bring to a relationship. These days, I look more for emotional support than for salary, making the quest so much more ambiguous.

Not to be left out, my male friends also learned to do without the ”female touch”, as they used to call it. They can cook and clean and host dinner parties. They can knot their own ties and buy a sharp suit for the holiday dinner. They are equally independent and also equally alone. Do you get to a point where you have been alone so long that you forget how to be in a relationship? What does it take to get me to give up half the closet space for a man?

With volunteering and exercise class and doing the laundry, there is little room for the baggage that a permanent guest implies. Where then does love then fit in? Maybe in the spaces between feeding the cats and cleaning the rain gutters and installing new kitchen cabinets.

Even better, maybe we take on the cabinets together, electric screwdrivers on the ready, and go to the movies in the time we saved. Maybe.

Copyright January, 1999