I've said it over and over, I classify under the category of average chicks. Unless I'm at the track, then: "Move over hottie because there's a new girl in town!" And it's me.
When you close your eyes and picture a female mechanic what do you imagine? I know right? She looks like Large Marge from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, and I know this because I get the same mental image! So of course when you see me you think "YOWZAAAH!" But, that's only because of the prior Large Marge mental image (thanks Marge).
I may be an average chick on the street but at the track I can (almost) start looking down on the hot trophy chick. Mainly because they never dress warmly enough and end up freezing cold shivering under hiked up shoulders and I get to zap by them on my 4-wheeler wearing my team jacket loaded with logos.
It can also factor in with the big fish in a small pond thing. How many racecar she-mechanics do YOU know? None? So, I stand out. Like a sore thumb wearing black Timberlands and skinny black jeans. What am I going to do once I become a normal person? How am I going to survive the normality of life when I am no longer being asked for an autograph, or being asked to pose for a picture? Or having total strangers walk up to me addressing me by MY name and knowing shitloads of details on my life?
Oh, and added bonus to the racing? Fireworks. I get to watch fireworks at least 60 times per year. That's way cool.
I will suffer. Normalcy, blech, who needs it?
I know, it's pure and simple and stupid and a textbook case of vanity. But, fuck, at least I know it and am totally aware of it.
My big question for myself is will I crumble under the pressure to resume my queen of the pits status and accept an offer with another team or... will I do everything I can to re-instate my past status of queen of the festivals where standing in line was never an option and a barricade was never a limit for me? Or... will I end up with a plain job complementing my plain jane'ness???