Confessions
of a Car Girl...Part 2
by Nika
of Racerchicks.com
Okay - so I'm a
grown up now - at least that's what my birth
certificate says - and as I've aged, my love
for all things automotive has grown along with
my car payments. I'm a car-girl and
proud.
Watching
Speedvision with the same intensity of a
housewife watching a soap opera, has me
wondering if I'm a freak of nature. Cars
are my life - I watch them, study them and
enjoy pushing them to their limits but as an
"adult" the reactions I get are still shock
and surprise. Upon entering my home, my love
for these mechanical beasts is apparent in
every nook and cranny. If only the fact
that Martha Stewart doesn't endorse a
checkered flag motif that I find myself also
decorating in a distinctively female way
- maybe I have yet to find race fuel scented
potpourri.
My garage is in
the same sort of disarray as my closet - but I
love it that way. Maybe gender
differences come in place but the garage is my
sanctuary - my peace, my joy. While others
found sentiment in stuffed bears and jewelry I
viewed all car parts as mementos of glory and I collected
these parts like loose change. In this
car girl's closet I have more automotive and
race logo apparel then a trackside souvenir
stand. Fashion - certainly a girls ambition,
and although I love Escada, I find myself
trying on that Nomex race suit with the same
fervor. Darn - those three layers can
make my rear look a tad larger than I want.
I doubt Jeff Gordon or Michael Schumacher have
this same fear.
Now being a
racerchick means I'm at the races every chance
I get. While the mall may be enticing to
others I find the roar of engines as my
vitamin.
Is that a bad thing? Many times a fellow
female looked with shock and dismay as I
bounced with excitement because of new rims
and tires. Was I betraying my kind?
Sometimes I must be honest - I felt like the
outcast. During my 20's I remember a
party I attended. The guys were
all by the big screen watching the Formula One race and
the girls were upstairs talking chicken
recipes. I was in agony! A lemon garlic
marinade is a nice touch for fowl, but my heart was poised
to listen to the latest Ferrari-McLaren battle going on in the games room. My
response to the girl's questions was a simple
nod of the head as I pained to listen who
James Hunt was calling in the lead!
While inside I felt it was my duty to try to
"belong" I knew that I was meant to be a car
girl.
Perhaps my
inherent love of racing and cars comes from
the appreciation of the vehicle as more than
just a tool for travel. The sheer thrill
of being able to go faster in a machine then
what is thought naturally possible is what
brings me back for more.
We are all unique. Our own thoughts and
ideas make us who we are. I'm a car girl
- and that's the way I'll be. Sure, cars will
always be a "guy" thing, but there are
always exceptions to the rule.
For
comments, feedback and just plain greetings,
feel free to e-mail me at nika@racerchicks.com
or AOL IM "racernika"
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