Hello Seattle

It's not just am amazing song by Owl City (have you heard the remix? indulge). It's a city on the West Coast. And I'm a bit obsessed with it right now. Both the remix and the city.

I guess "right now" isn't the best way to put it. I've always liked the Northwest. Portland is amazing. The Sierras are wonderful. Vancouver loves me and wants me to become Canadian. The city told me so. It cried when I left. I love driving north on the 5. Screw south. But I've never been able to make it to Seattle. I've been in Washington. The closest I've come is Puyallup - about 40 minutes south of the desired city.

I like Seattle because I have this idealized image of what it'd be like. I imagine it to be Vancouver and San Jose rolled into one. Seattle's got it all. A kickin' underground scene. Teeming with young, hip, smart recent college grads. Fast-paced, but surrounded by so so so much wilderness that slowing down isn't difficult at all. Or living adventurously. There's skiing and whitewater rafting and there's the freaking ocean right there and there's hiking and biking and everything! Seattle has the rest of the tech companies that aren't based in the Silicon Valley. It has a decent sized tourism industry. The only thing Seattle doesn't have is a hockey team. But I'm okay with that. I'll travel 2.5 hours north to see some hockey. I'd have to bring my passport, but sure, I'll do it. Seattle is the closest thing to perfect for me that there ever will be. And I hear the weather isn't actually as bad as everyone makes it out to be.

As far as job opportunities go, there's one major newspaper based in Seattle, plus a handful of minor ones. The schools in the surrounding cities/suburbs are rather impressive and it seems like jobs would be plentiful. So no worries there.

This place just calls to me. I mean, okay, so Vancouver really calls to me too. But Seattle's right there. And it's got all the benefits of Vancouver but I don't have to deal with, you know, that minor issue of citizenship. I am serious you guys, that city and I are going to have to get married and I'm going to become Canadian for it. But if I live in Seattle...! I don't have to worry about how will I find a job or how do I get a work visa or how do I decide if one city is worth becoming a citizen of a different country. I can just have a fling on the side every weekend with Vancouver. Seattle doesn't have to know.

So where's your perfect city?

Webcomics

I read webcomics. There. I said it.

I've only admitted to reading webcomics to a few people. Only one of them also reads webcomics. The rest are 4chan-ers (if you don't know about it, it's where all internet memes come from and, no, you really don't want to go there, just wait until the memes become popular on the normal internetz), so I don't have anything to be ashamed of compared to them.

I'm not really sure how it happened. Nor do I remember what the first webcomic I read was. I'd been linked to xkcd plenty of times before, but I didn't follow it. I'd seen a few others (Penny Arcade comes to mind), but not much interest in them.

I think Sinfest is the only webcomic that's really stuck with me. It's been at least 4 years since I started following this webcomic and I've never gotten sick of it. There hasn't been a storyline that I didn't like. Despite the name, I assure you it's totally safe for work 100% of the time, and is really quite far from being sinful. It's completely adorable.

My current favorite is Girl Genius. It's heavily influenced by Steampunk and has a great storyline. The characters are hysterical. Well-written and well-drawn (do you know how difficult it is to find that combination?), this comic is so addicting that I devoured the archives in two days.

Surviving the World is such an entertaining concept. Even though it's not exactly what one would consider a conventional webcomic, it's a site I think is worthy of sharing. It's not always funny, but it's certainly always educational. We're learning how to survive the world, after all. There's also recitation on Fridays, where readers can submit questions for answering. It's a nice gesture and a way to get people interacting in a way that not many other webcomics do.

So there. I read webcomics. In addition to checking my blogs and news sties every morning over breakfast, I check these comics. Think you have a webcomic that I absolutely need to read? Let me know. And if you want more, I've got a list of about 10 more for you.

I Must be Dreaming

I've done a dream post before and most people know my tendency to have strange and unrealistic dreams. But last week I had realistic dreams. Dreams where everything is status quo. Location matches with the correct group of people. Those people act and react as they should. No video game characters enter the real world, nor do I enter their's. No one dies.

I've decided I much prefer my unrealistic dreams. These realistic dreams make me think too much. I'll wake up and have to sit there for a minute and collect myself. I'm at home, I'm in my bed, it didn't actually happen, it was just a dream. Now, that's not to say I don't enjoy these dreams. I do. They're fun and rather lighthearted. My dreams feature people I haven't seen in a while, so it's nice to have that connection to them, even if it's just my subconscious.

But in some way, it's like all my fears are unlocked in these dreams. Any fleeting thought becomes the focus. That old friend I lost touch with that I happened to think about briefly now plays a major role. That stupid crush from high school makes an appearance, complications and confusion ensue. I'm used to these people playing minor roles with one line, or maybe even none, in a brief scene in my dream. I'm not used to realistic reunions at normal places like malls. My dreams have a flair for the dramatic. Things should have went down at a castle. I'm not used to people being themselves in my dreams. They usually mold to what I want, my ideal for them. That's the whole point of dreams, right? Dreams are crazy and they wouldn't actually happen in the real world. They're just manifestations of what you want. It's what makes them dreams.

So what I want most is for people to be themselves? It's true for a few people in my life, but they are not the people featured in the dreams. The people in my dreams are ones I have slipped out of contact with. So what I want is to get back in contact with them? Eh. No. I'm sure a chance meeting with any person in my dreams wouldn't be a bad thing, but it's not something I'd actively seek.

What's the deal, subconscious? Are the unrealistic dreams just not fun enough anymore? Because I really like them. Give them back.

Where in the World?

The only computer game I remember playing as a kid was Carmen Sandiego. And her last name always bothered me. San. Diego. Not one word. Two words. But it was always fun because even though they sent you limited places and you got silly cartoony stereotypical touristy pictures of the locations, it really inspired me to learn more about other places.

Remember Encyclopedia Britannica? Remember how incredibly slow it was? How long it took to load anything? I spent a good amount of time on that just reading about places to go. I'd make lists of places I wanted to when I was X age. 13. 16. 18. 21. 30. I'm stuck at 30 now. I'm fairly certain that if I let myself go any higher, I won't go anywhere until I'm retired. And while spending my retired years travelling (damnit I'm British sometimes, leave me alone) the world with a small group of friends or my SO sounds absolutely wonderful, I don't want to wait that long. I also fear by then all I will want to do is take tours. I won't want to plan everything myself and I won't have the energy to.

I'll exclude my list of things to do/places to go in the US (NYC ball drop, D.C., Grand Canyon to name the top 3) and jump straight to everything foreign.

I will ski on three continents. North America can count, but I only count foreign countries. So Canada's one. I've been promised Whistler (where the Vancouver Olympics just were) since I was 12. It. Will. Happen. I've also decided I need to spend 5+ days in Vancouver. It's too pretty of a city for me to be satisfied with merely passing through. Maybe I should just stay there until I can say sorry with a Canadian accent. I swear, they add an h or a w in there and it makes a world of difference. (I should add "Canadian accent" to the list of bonuses for a guy, huh?)

I'm going to backpack Europe. It will take at least 2 weeks. Must see cities are Amsterdam, Rome (with side trip to Pompeii (so I guess that means Naples too)), Paris, London, Barcelona. Oh, and I'm skiing the Swiss Alps. So whatever city gets that task done. Those are just the musts. Extras...Torino. But I figure if I'm skiing the Swiss Alps, what's a tiny side trip to the 06 Olympics host city? And Nice - heard it's super pretty and has good food. Venice. Okay! Moving on!

I will go back to Delos and fully explore the island and ruins.

Japan. Yes, I want to go to Tokyo and Kyoto and Hiroshima and Nagano (and there's the third continent!), but I also want a local to take me around their hometown and go to temples and shrines and parks that aren't on the top 10 lists of temples and shrines and parks to visit in Japan. I want to walk down streets where I'm the only foreigner while having a conversation in my broken Japanese with a friend. I don't have a desire to know other countries in this way.

Sydney has an unexplainable appeal to me. It just seems like it would be a nice city to visit for a relaxing vacation where you don't really do much. Spend a week, week and a half, just in the city, visiting beaches, wandering around malls. Of course you'd have to do some touristy things, but with a week and a half, there's plenty of time. If the season's right, hop on over to Thredbo and get a 4th continent.

I also want to go to China and India and Indonesia, but I haven't given too much thought to the trips yet.

There's just so much of the world out there and I'll never be able to understand or reach it all and, for some reason, that leaves me unsettled. I want to have a better understanding of the global society than I do right now. But I'm afraid that if I don't try and understand the world when I am young, I will lose the desire to understand it when I am older. I need to feed my desire to travel to keep it burning.

Anyone looking for a travel partner?

Just Shoot Me: Bonus Level!

I considered many different ways to talk about this topic. In one way I went into a lot of detail about myself and gaming. It's fun and it'll give you insight to who I am as a gamer, so I want to post it anyway. Some things have been deleted because they were too repetitive thus eliminating any flow. Sorry. Deal with it.

I love criticizing the PS3. I talked excitedly with a classmate about Bioshock 2, despite never playing Bioshock and really only learning about the game the week before the sequel was released.

I don't actually own a gaming system, only stole my family's unused Wii. I've slowly worked my way to the TP Water Temple on that system, though I'm past the Temple of Time in the GC version. I've played all the Mario Karts, but Double Dash remains my favorite and it kills me I can't play it on a weekly basis. I played Guitar Hero and DDR a few times freshman year, as well as almost worked my way through the first Halo campaign on Heroic (had a weird dream with 343 Guilty Spark and GLaDOS, stopped playing). A friend brought over his PS2 and I played my way through half of Okami. I also played Spore (to Space Phase), 25% of Half-Life 2 (without playing the first) and perhaps 15% of Fallout 3 (again, without playing the others). That was the height of my gaming career.

I go on these week long gaming sprees where I wake up early and go to sleep late to play further in X-game, but what happens after the week? You tell me - I don't know how any of the games go after 10 play hours. Since Portal can easily be beaten in under 10 hours, it is the only game I believe I have completed. Even Pokemon games on the Game Boy - I never finished them. I still have my Red version, saved right before the last battle because I was so freaking attached to my Venusaur, I couldn't bear to lose him. He's been transfered to Silver and possibly to Ruby. I did the same with my Dragonite. Both were in their 70s without rare candies or additional training when I transferred them. Probably in their 80s now, if not maxed out. Go me.

I'm a major liability to have on Live.

I can talk the talk, but I can't walk the walk. But I never claimed I could.

Should we just stick to playing Guitar Hero while never being able to master that orange button? Should we stay with our Animal Crossings and Sims and Maplestories? Or should we beat all the Halos and CODs and Gears of Wars on their most difficult levels? Should we be able to survive Through the Fire and the Flames? You tell me.

Just Shoot Me

I am a casual gamer. Casual. I don't actually own a system and I honest-to-God prefer to watch others play video games than play one myself. I keep up with the gaming world extremely well simply because it interests me. I can tell you almost anything you want to know about Natal/Kinect, but have no desire to understand the technology that makes it all possible. You may call me a poser. I'm just being me.

I have a friend who is very good at Smash. Any. She prefers to use a GC controller when playing on the Wii, but is perfectly happy without one. She does not venture too far beyond Smash. She's played a few Final Fantasy's and has a nearly unhealthy obsession with Link (and subsequently the Legend of Zelda games). She also kicks butt at Mario Kart. She has played Halo a few times, but does not much care for it, nor is she particularly good. Those who see her playing Smash might call her a serious gamer. She's just being her.

One thing we've noticed recently is how guys react when they learn you have an interest in video games. It starts with the "challenge face." The look that sizes you up and decides that if you lose whatever game they challenge you to, you're just a fake, but if you win, it's barely recognized. If you win (probably by luck, according to them) and are accepted into the group, that is all you are - part of the group. You are not a girl for dating. You are a gaming buddy. My experience is only slightly different because instead of accepting the challenge, I backpedal and say, honestly, that I am no good at games. This is often perceived as modesty.

I assure you it's not. I can barely keep a positive score on Smash, I just walk right off the edge. I'm lucky to get 3 kills in slayer, even if I've got the only plasma sword on the map. I tried playing Gears of War in co-op - couldn't figure out how to duck behind something and then get up and jump over it for AT LEAST 10 minutes. No freaking joke. Broke out the little handbook they give you and still couldn't get it. But because I have an interest, the skill is assumed. My friend doesn't care what system you have. She'd rather game on the N64 than check the amazing graphics in the latest Forza/Blur/Need for Speed game on your PS3. Even though she really enjoys Goldeneye, she didn't even care when I told her (weeks late, I might add) that they were remaking it. But because my friend has a skill, the interest is assumed.

I'm sure all gamer guys will say one of the things they want in a girl is to be themselves. Well, my friend is very frustrated because being herself is getting her stuck on the friend ladder. I'm not complaining for now. Give me half a year and I'm sure I'll be right with her. Being an average gamer girl doesn't work. We have to be Olivia Munn or Felicia Day to warrant some attention, some recognition. I guess what I'm asking is that gamer guys remember that gamer girls are girls, not just another one of the guys. Please. So my friend doesn't rant about this in another two months.

Oh yeah, be-tee-dubs

I'm going back to Mizzou. Just fyi.

A lot of you are like, "WTF mate, she's going to Mizzou again? I thought she was going to Ball State if she got in? And she did, right?" Yeah. Well. Ball State is lovely. I feel so comfortable on the campus and I love the program there. But it was going to take me 4 years to get 2 teaching degrees. B/c in IN, you can only teach journalism if you have a journalism education degree, not just an English education degree. In MO, you can teach journalism with just an English teaching degree. And that only adds a year, maybe half a year to my total. So let's see. 4.5 years or 6 years of college? Yeah, definitely going with the shorter one. Besides, this way I keep my photojournalism degree, which I wanted to do anyway - I only balked b/c it was going to take 3 more years for one education degree, 4 more for two education degrees...wanna try for 4.5 more years? I also keep my Japanese minor (Ball State doesn't like it if you only take one course in that subject there and use transfer credits to obtain a minor) and probably my Creative Writing minor. Annnnd I might go to Greece for a short English program next summer to help speed that along. And then I'll do the wilderness thing after I get back. Screw internships, who needs 'em? XD (You kinda don't if you're planning on teaching. How strange.)

You know what? That leaves out the emotional factor. A lot of my transfer was based on a desire to be closer to K. Long distance really strains a relationship, and by attending Ball State I could get the education I wanted while making our relationship a lot easier, ensuring our future. Well, the relationship's over. For a while, I couldn't even fathom being at Ball State. Too close. Mizzou was too close. I needed to transfer to a community college in SD, stat. That was seriously my thinking. Force J to let me live with her or her close, trustworthy friend who happened to have a spare room. For almost 2 weeks, I just set college aside. I did not want to deal with it. When I finally did, I calmly and logically reached the conclusion above, after meeting with an academic advisor for an hour and wandering around Ball State's campus for an hour more. Emotionally, I kept my support group at Mizzou. I have my security blanket. I ensure that my life doesn't overlap with his. I make sure that there isn't too much change in my life all at once.

I also volunteer at the Humane Society. I walk dogs and it's just a ton of fun. Sometimes I'll wash dishes in the kitchen, but there's usually a couple small dogs in cages there, so I'll sing along with the radio and that seems to keep them from barking too much. XD I'm very reasonably certain I specifically helped a dog get adopted two weeks ago. And I finally picked my new favorite. So he's next to be adopted (b/c the adopted one was my favorite before). I also help a lot at the race track on my brother's car. It's pretty exciting. He's leading the points series at two tracks right now. So that's nice.

Sorry to break these fun-but-serious posts with all this stuff. We'll be back to your regularly scheduled blogging soon.

Oh Grandma...

I've never had the pleasure of working in retail, but I can imagine my grandmother doing this exact thing.

http://notalwaysright.com/decayed-decades-same-difference/6007

Btw, if you have the time, there are plenty of hysterical stories from this blog. I highly recommend it.

Husband Hunting

My mom's best friend is like my second mom. Only better. Because I don't have to worry about censoring myself too much. I figure she'll tell my mom everything sooner or later, but in a far more tactful way than I'd have put it. And that works for me.

I took a day trip to Amish country with my mom, my second mom, and my second mom's other best friend almost a month ago. We shared two rooms, and I shared a room with my second mom as the other two are snorers and we're both light sleepers. We spent some time talking after the other two had returned to their room. She and I were talking about my then very recent break-up. She was trying to tell me I should date around. Tried to get me to promise to go on 5 dates with different people before entering a relationship. I agreed to 2, but I'll try for 3. She decided, after this, that I was not really into the idea of dating around. I'm husband hunting. I balked at the term. Husband hunting. Ick. No. I just want to only have serious romantic relationships. If they can be counted on one hand when I die, that'd be ideal.

I've accepted it now. Husband hunting isn't so bad. It's bad when you don't know what you want. So my second mom told me to make a list of the things I want in a guy. If he doesn't meet 2/3rds after a first date, don't bother with the second. This is excepting the things that you don't really learn until after the first date. But, see, I figure for me to really honestly agree and look forward to a first date, I have to have a decent idea of who this guy is, so I probably know some of them.

I want to be held accountable to this list. Not just by myself, though that part is important, but by my friends. This list is not final. It will grow. However, I highly doubt any item will be deleted from this first draft. But I want your help, and I'd like to hear your own list, if you'd like to share. These aren't in any particular order, but the first is my biggest issue. (Please imagine my comments in parentheses to be accompanied by my joking/lighter tone and/or a bit of a laugh. Putting "XD" "XP" or "haha" got repetitive.)

• Smart: Preferably smarter than me. I like being challenged.
• Foodie: I don't care if he can cook, I don't care if he wants to have fast food 10 times a week. But he will enjoy spending hours at specialty food stores with me, even if we don't buy anything, and not just for the fact we are spending time together. He will not mind going out and spending $100+ on a dinner out. The frequency depends on his...
• Job/Money: I don't much care what he does, but if he makes less than I make as a teacher or journalist, he's out. I want a life where I don't have to work if I don't want to and not worry about the impact that will have on our lifestyle. I do not mind those who will think I wish to be a kept wife. I like how I was raised, but I watch my mom and I can tell something is missing for her. And I think that was having a career. I'm a little off topic; adjusting for inflation a little, let's say I'd like my husband to make 60k+/year. (So with that we can go for that kind of dinner once every 3 months-ish? Maybe I should bump that salary up...)
• Socially Liberal: I care about economic leanings a bit, but I can put those differences aside. It's super difficult for me to deal with people who aren't socially liberal. Even socially moderate it kinda bugs me. I like talking about politics and I can't stand it if my SO disagrees with me. Because I don't want to argue about that. So we better agree.
• Geeky: Ways can vary. But if it's not obvious after the first date, forget it. I'm geeky. If geekiness isn't invited, I'm outie.
• World Traveller: If not yet, then aspires to. Has a list of places he wants to go and why. Must have passport within a year of us dating. Does not allow it to expire.
• Open: Has a "take me as I am" attitude about who he is. Acknowledges his past, does not let it rule him. Will hold me accountable to the same standard.
• Dog Lover: Can like cats, but if it boils down to it will pick dogs over cats. Wants a dog to raise with family. Will love my dog, but accepts it is MY dog. If neither of us have a dog, will go to Humane Society with me to volunteer and/or go to dog parks to interact with dogs. (This can be just to spend time with me. Less important than foodie.)
• Follows a Sport: Doesn't have to be my sport/s. Just a sport. Different ones are actually ideal so we can learn about each other's teams. If he likes the Calgary Flames he is automatically disqualified. I. Don't. Care. Very serious about that.
• Reads: I don't care what. I don't care how. It can be history books from the library or the latest D&D rules he just d/led. Just read. There is always time to read.
• Bonus Points: I feel like I should address physical appearance because physical appearance matters in any romantic relationship. Taller than 5'10", dirty blonde hair, exceptionally well groomed facial hair (if any, no full beards), no 6-pack or beer gut (firm to squishy, but no rock hard or jiggle, savvy?), does not wear obvious athletic shoes unless exercising. None of those are requirements. No one will be eliminated based on them. It's just an ideal that I want to make note of. Just like I hope some guy is making note that they want a curvy, small waisted, brown haired, blue eyed, 5'6" girl who hardly ever wears make-up. Or, you know, maybe just a few of those.

Please please please do tell me if you think there's something that I absolutely must add to my list right this second. I'm very interested to hear what strikes you all as a quality my husband must have that I was unable to think of in two hours of work on this post.

[edit: I tried for 10 minutes and went through multiple repostings of the same thing b/c the dang bullet points were bothering me. I'm too tired to deal with it now. Sorry the spacing is all funky. Know it irks me more than it irks you.]

Classified Ads

J specifically asked that I do this. I told her no, originally. Here it is.

Wanted: One Criticizing Friend
I have the best friend job filled. The close friends. The distant-dinner/movie friends. The friend I tell secrets to. The friend I don't tell secrets to. I am looking for a friend who will criticize me to no end without worrying about the effect on our friendship.
You are amazing at finding the errors in my ways and have no trouble pointing them out. You are an efficient criticizer, using specific words to describe my faults. You are also available to give advice on how to correct my many wrongs (I'm certain you'll find many, otherwise you're not doing your job). You are not afraid of my initial outbursts of anger in response to your criticisms.
Respond with your first critique of me based on this posting.

Wanted: One Honest Man
I am not looking to have any short-term relationships; I'm husband hunting. I'm SF and if the other letter matters to you please move along. I'm 5'6" and have brown hair and ears that stick out a little too far. I'm blunt and not afraid of anger. However, like many women, I have a 5 second rebound rate, so don't take that anger too seriously. I also have good points. I like (and follow) sports. I'm a good friend, HWP (in both senses), smart, opinionated, and have a super cute smile.
You are my ideal man. 5'10" or taller, dirty blonde hair, piercing eyes. You, above all that appearance fluff, are honest. Brutally honest. Open about your past, your thoughts. You hardly have a thought filter. It's only deployed in the most vital situations. You have strength and confidence to share with me. You love dogs. You have a geeky side, and aren't ashamed of it. You are also HWP (in both senses). You know yourself and can articulate your aspirations.
Those quirks you have? Lay 'em on me.

Wanted: A New Future
I used to dream of a studio apartment in a big city above a Chinese restaurant. Or a coffee shop, if I was dreaming big. It was small and cheap, but decently lit, and it was my own to call home. I would cook meals if I entertained friends, though most nights it was simply frozen dinners in front of the TV. I dreamed of being a sports photographer. I dreamed of living a life alone.
Then I dreamed of a townhome on the outskirts of a decent sized city, forming the border between the city and the suburbs, that allowed pets. Two dogs would keep me, and my SO, company as we cooked dinner together every weeknight, dancing around to music while checking the chicken. I dreamed of being an English teacher, newspaper adviser. I dreamed of living a life with him.
Now, I am compromising. I can be a photojournalist or a teacher. But what to do about the housing? An apartment shared with friends, perhaps? Surely pet friendly, so that one dog could stick with me.
If you happen to know where I might find more information on this future, please let me know. I'd like to hear from it soon.

I know this is a very limited audience I am reaching, but if you feel like crafting a response to any of them, for fun or for real, please go ahead. Either leave it in the comments or email me (link in my full profile). Now, since brevity is surely not the soul of my wit, I'm off to give you all a proper update.

Quarter Midgets: Girls

Racing is a male dominated sport. There's no getting around that. Most sports are, but I feel racing is even more so, probably partially because there isn't a separate league just for women. But I digress. Females account for probably less than 10% of racers. The percentage of girls who race past the age of 16 is even more slim. I can barely consider myself one of them, having only raced until a few months after my 17th birthday.

In quarter midgets, it was usually the boys with their dads who came to the track. Sometimes a mom would show up, occasionally a sister. My family was never like that. We stuck together, unless I had an ice skating competition. Upon such an occasion, there was much fanfare on if we would go to the race, if we would go to the competition, could we find a way so everyone could be both places at one point in time? I think that helped me feel comfortable at the race track. I always knew my family would be there.

I also made friends with the few sisters who showed up to their brother's races. There was one family I particularly liked because the daughter my age looked like me, and it was the older sister who raced, not the older brother. Back when we started, I think there were three female racers at our club. I looked up to these girls so much. I still remember their names, their faces, their cars. I remember seeing them, always sitting together in the stands, always hanging out, just the three of them. Maybe sometimes a boy would sit with them, but that was usually one of the girl's brother. They were separate from the rest of the competitors. It's not like this was eons ago. This was the very late 90s. Girls in quarter midgets were considered somehow slightly less significant.

Now, for the most part they were. The stereotypes ring true. Most girls can't drive. I can't tell you how many girls just stayed in Sr. Honda or a 160 class until they couldn't race anymore, never placing above 5th. But there were a handful of girls who wanted those wins. Those track records. That validation that came from each and every boy whom we made cry just because we placed higher than they did.

But a girl couldn't cry at the race track. That was too feminine. But a girl had to be super polite and super nice to everyone. If she wasn't, she was just rude, a bitch. A girl had to consistently succeed, otherwise it was a fluke. If she didn't, she wasn't serious about racing. All the generic pressures of being a women were amplified at the race track.

The fathers were the worst. See, when most kids start racing quarter midgets, they don't pay much attention to gender. Yeah, she's a girl and he's a guy, but they can still play in the sandbox together just fine. By the time you hit your pre-teen years, you've been around these kids for so long, gender doesn't really matter. But the fathers care. If a girl wins, the fathers will make comments, will yell at their kids for letting a girl beat them. Call the son wimpy. Weak. And then you've lost a friend. It swings the other way too. If a girl wins, the sons are forced to go hug the girl, to do something slightly more than the usual good job handshake. Creates sexual tension. Makes you acutely aware of the gender difference. And then you've lost a friend.

In my last post I mentioned overhearing comments about not worrying about the girl in the race. I was lucky because most of the time I raced with another more outspoken girl who did well, so these comments weren't as concentrated. I still heard them frequently enough. When I started racing two classes, I overheard a conversation that can be summed up in a sentence: girls aren't strong enough to handle racing two classes in one day. When I raced Hvy. B, people were shocked. A girl in a Deco class? She can't handle that power, she'll crash. When I broke a track record, it was always, "She must have cheated. What are they putting in the fuel?" It was never that way with my brother. I left out something when I talked about winning the Sr. Honda Monza championship. On the video tape my mom's friend took after the race, my friends surrounding me, all celebrating our collective success, you can hear in the background, "Damn women, taking 1-2." That comment forever tarnishes my memory of that moment.

You can't undo that sort of thing. I try and justify it, saying those comments were mostly done in jest. Even if that were true, even if "damn women" was just a joke, do you think that makes it any better? Do you think I can look back and laugh about that? I won a championship, I obliterated the competition during a season where my group broke a track record every race in the series and just one person with two words ruined everything for me. That is the one time I cried at the race track, if you consider less than 10 tears crying. I did so privately, hidden in my dad's truck while changing out of my race suit and back into my street clothes. You learn to steel yourself. I've crashed, I've broken walls, I've been hit so hard I've had bruises on both my hips, I've almost blacked out. Sometimes you get whiplash just from people banging on your bumper. I've pulled dumb moves and taken myself out of the race. I've been taken out. You do not cry. You do not complain. You take it, you move on. I, for whatever reason, cannot move on from that.

It's no wonder women in higher levels of racing are either over sexualized or butch. Either meek or bitches. It's all we're allowed to be.

If you feel there is something I didn't explain, or something you'd like me to delve into more, please do not hesitate to leave it in the comments, or email me about it. This series of posts is done, but I realize your opportunity to learn about my experience in racing is not.

Quarter Midgets: Hvy. B and the Grands

I've mentioned that my last year in quarter midgets, I raced Hvy. 160 and Hvy. B. I left out that my brother raced Hvy. B and Hvy. A that year.

My poor dad.

You know that part in the movie promotion I posted in my first quarter midget post where the dad is yelling something about working together? Yeah. I've had that talk when I tried to go for a pass that wasn't totally there, ended up taking my brother out that race. Or when he pulled a dumbass move and spun us both out (odd how he got the short stick both times). At least we had a family friend to help my dad out that year.

Racing Hvy. B in CA in 2003 was like racing Sr. Honda in 2001, but with more power and more seat time. It was easily the most fun I've had racing. Of course, that fun came from not just racing friends, but racing enemies. You see, 3 of the top 5 racers in that class that year were from my club. And two of those three were my brother and I. Versus a kid whose father had a big, rude mouth. The club races became less about winning and more about blocking. Whichever sibling was ahead made sure the "enemy" was delayed as much as possible. Or if he was in between...well, we played our fun games. J says she only vaguely remembers this rivalry when she went to the track, but I remember this person's dad coming up to us after the main and offering me his hand saying something to the tune of good job blocking, next time try racing. It got kind of out of hand.

We crashed so much. Surprisingly, not so much at the club races, but everywhere else it was pure mayhem. I remember this one time at an event in Sacramento, before the race even started 3 people flipped their cars, including two of my group. We were sitting there for half an hour while they repaired the wall (it was just plywood sheets with old tires between, so they sometimes broke). Sometimes out of the 10 cars that got to start the main race, only 4 finished.

Oh yes, we had fun.

But nothing was more fun than the 2003 Western Grands. I've mentioned the Grands briefly before. There are three week long Grand National events each year, during the summer - one in the western half, one in the eastern half, and one on any of the dirt tracks. Because of these races I have been to Florida without going to Orlando or the beach. I have been to Pennsylvania without doing anything historical. I've raced on the parking lot on the inside of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I've been to Colorado without seeing the Rockies. I went to Canada and Washington and Oregon and even stayed somewhat close to home at Madera. Any family vacation was a Grands.

(I spy with my little eye a young me!) And for the kids they were vacations. We practiced one day, qualified the next, and depending on how we qualified, raced a few times (or maybe even just once if you qualified in the top 5!) during the week. The rest of the time we were free at the track. See, that's the nice thing about being a parent at these events - your kids generally aren't old enough to drive, so you don't worry about them going too far. And if your kid has a cell phone, they're just a text away. I guess there is a bit of cause for worry though, since at the Grands it seemed all of a sudden acceptable to rent a golf cart for a week. And, you know, since all these kids race cars, why not let them drive them here and there? I've jumped on and off of golf carts going full speed. I've been thrown off a few times when taking sharp turns. I know the places to stand/sit/hold on to so that won't happen. We've had at least 10 kids in a golf cart at once. I'm not entirely sure how, but the thing still moved. Shoving people off to make the golf cart go faster was fun though.

That's the thing. Mixed this thing intense national competition, it was just a big party! Everyday, you hung out with people you knew, you made friends with people in your class, you just did all this crazy stuff kids do! And everyday, you remembered your friends were your competition. You stayed away from their trailers, their cars, their parents, and they stayed away from yours.

My parents decided the 2003 Western Grands would be our last Grands. There was some big debacle over which B motor which kid got. I let my brother choose because my focus was Hvy. 160. At that time, I was leading all series I ran in Hvy. 160. I was top 5 in Hvy. B, maybe top 3, but I wasn't leading any of them. I think my brother regrets his decision to this day.

In case you can't read that, it says I qualified 3rd in Hvy. B, straight into the main event. It also meant that I would start 3rd (top 5 qualifiers were inverted for the main event). And, the most important number, in the last column. 2. I finished 2nd, the closest my brother or I came to winning the only championship that eluded our family, a Grands. I was the only girl in the top 10. I lost to the boy who holds the record for the most Grands won. You won't find any records of these sort of things online.

And, okay, so going from 3rd to 2nd isn't much of an accomplishment, right? But consider this. At the green flag, two rows back, someone rammed the person ahead of them, who ran up on the back of my car, knocking a part called the tailcone loose. That's not allowed to come off, otherwise I'm disqualified. My dad motioned for me to pull into the pit area, they reattached it and I ran from 10th to 2nd.

The results never show the stories behind the race. You wouldn't know that the guy who won came up to me before the race and shook my hand and talked to me for a few minutes to help me calm my nerves. You wouldn't know that my hands shook as I put on my gloves and neck brace. You wouldn't know that it was my good friend who ran into my tailcone, that I was so mad I almost punched him after the race. You wouldn't know that my dad promised if my brother and I finished top 5 we'd go to another Grands. You wouldn't know at the awards ceremony, half of the people up there for Hvy. B were from CA and you wouldn't know all the silly poses we did as a group. You wouldn't know that they played Allstar by Smashmouth as they introduced us or that I sat between my two guy friends and one of them joked that he was giving my brother and I 5 laps to either crash each other out or be 1-2. You wouldn't know that I overheard fans of a competitor from another state say to him, "At least you know the girl won't give you any problems."

I've avoided talking about it, for the most part, but it's what I promised with the start of this so that is how we shall close this exploration. I am a girl who spent most of her developing years in a man's sport. I only like talking about the benefits I got from racing. But that ignores the things I went through to get there.