Now look, I am very much a 21st Century kind of girl, ever-ready with my Blackberry and always ontop of my...tweets. But once Adam (bless his soul) starts talking to me about, "Jeremy Clarkson said this about that car" and "Did you see the mags on that thing?", I do get a very glossy expression in my eyes and develop ADD almost instantaneously. Before you judge me too harshly for being a ninny that doesn't know the difference between her GTi and GHD, consider the fact that I am a girl. Cars don't make me tick, they are, simply put, what I use to get from point A to the mall. So yes, sugar and spice and all things nice - that's what little girls are made of. And Subarus and Porches dragged by the power of 400 horses...THAT's what grown men are made of. Where am I going with this? To the mall, of course.

When Margie sent me an email a while back (followed by a formal request, which required a definite response from me) to accompany her and LJ (a guy) to the Ford factory for a tour of their plant, I thought it was a joke. A cruel joke orchestrated by the universe to punish me for all those times I went through the motions of well-placed "That's fantastic" and "I didn't know that, wow!" that slipped automatically from my mouth to tell Adam that I'm listening and interested. I thought to myself, why on earth would I want to do something like that? And so the "would" turned into "did" like the pumpkin turned into a carriage and I was pleasantly surprised, because I had a good time. In fact, I had a great time.

I've never given much thought to the how's and why's of cars. I mean, "How are cars made?" is the same to me as, "Who invented time?". I dunno, "Who cares?" seems like an appropriate response to me. But when we arrived at the Ford offices and they treated us like royalty, I dropped my guard and made a concerted effort to listen and pay attention. And it wasn't long before I got very interested and enthusiastic and almost broke into song. Just kidding (about the last bit, that is). But really, I had an awesome time.

Then we climed onto little trailers, pulled by a tractor-like vehicle in the front, popped in our headsets to make sure we could hear our very competent and gracious tourguide Riëtte (a real lady with a pashmina wrapped around her shoulders), put on our safety goggles and off we went for our tour of the actual plant. I was like a little kid in a sweetshop, I kid you not. My mouth was agape as we drove past literally hundreds of robots drilling and zapping and welding and spraying and and and...And then there's the people working on the car. They all looked happy and smiling as they worked, each person playing a part in building a car. Your car. MY car. Ensuring that every part is in its place and every coat of paint is perfectly applied. I secretly waved to some of them as we drove past - they were doing an important job.

Upon our return to the conference room, we were treated to a fabulous lunch and had some more chats and laughs about cars. I repeat myself, ABOUT CARS. I really had a fantastic day and will certainly have more respect for my own car in the future. We left with smiles, knowledge, Ford branded pens and lots to talk about. Thank you, Ford, for a wonderful experience! And thank you Hertz for inviting us.

...When I got home that evening, I couldn't wait to tell Adam about my day. His response, "That's cool, babe. What did you get me?". Groan. "You can have my pen while I have some of my own medicine," I thought to myself.