Category: friends

We Could Be Heroes

“When I was young, I wanted to become a doctor.”
“I wanted to become a teacher, just like my dad. That never happened though, haha!”
“You’re all so practical. I wanted to become a superhero. Pretty much like Superman.”
“Haha! Did you want to save people?”
“Nah. I just wanted a big red cape. It looked pretty cool on TV.”
“You’re weird… If I were to become a superhero, all I’d be interested in would be having some really cool superhero powers.”
“Such as?”
“As a child, I always wished I could fly.”
“I always really, really, really wanted to be able to do magic.”
“It was all about invisibility for me!”
“It’s funny, isn’t it? Children always want magical superpowers and when you grow up that just… disappears. Kind of.”
“Not for me. Not really. It just changed a bit. I still wish I had superpowers, even today. But now I wish I had the superpower of finishing all my paperwork on time, way before five o’clock, every single workday of the week. Then I’d never have to take it home with me ever again.”
“I’d never thought of that! That’d be cool. I would like to have that superpower too.”
“I know an even better one. I’d like to have a superpower that allows me to convince my boss to give me as many vacation days as I want. I’d only work one week a year. Maybe even less!”
“And we also need the superpower of making annoying colleagues disappear!”
“And the superpower of always maintaining enough air in the office for everyone to breathe, even on hot days! That’d be so awesome.”
“AND the superpower to take care of the garden in literally the blink of an eye. Just one blink and PRESTO. All done! Imagine all the extra free time we’ll get.”
“Haha! Can we also have a superpower that allows you to clean cars that way? My wife always make me do that on Sunday and I hate it. If I only had to blink once to clean it, I’d never have to get up again at seven. I’d be able to sleep in!”

*everybody looks at me*

“And what superpower would make your life easier?”
“Ehm… a superpower that allows me to look at a picture of the Nordschleife and instantly know what corner I’m looking at?”

Say ‘Maybe Yes’ to the Dress

“That’s an interesting dress.”
“I like it. That flower pattern’s nice.”
“I’m not sure. It is a bit crowded.”
“Really? Why?”
“Well, the leaves are rather big – and a very bright shade of green. In combination with one, two, three… four different colours of roses, it might be a bit much. You’d have to be very careful with the accessories if you wear a dress like this.”
“Accessories? You mean bracelets and stuff?”
“Yes.”
“I never wear many anyways. I used to have this beaded bracelet, but it got caught on the door handle. I swear, the beads were literally everywhere. Never buy bracelets like that.”
“Beads wouldn’t do well with this dress anyway. You need something classy. Silver maybe.”
“I might have something like that. I’d have to check.”
“And what shoes would you wear with this?!”
“I’ve got some white ballerinas. They might do.”
“Mmm. I think heels would be better. White ones. Or green, to match those flowers.”
“I can’t walk in heels! I’d have an ankle injury before I’d even reach the kitchen!”
“Yes, but that’s you. I can walk in heels.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot you had that superpower.”
“Haha, it just takes practice.”
“Then I refuse any form of practice. Flat shoes for the win.”
“Well, I still think this dress would look pretty with heels.”
“Pretty? I thought you said you didn’t like it.”
“No, I didn’t! I said you’d have to be careful with how finish it off.”
“I’ll tell you what. You do NOT finish it off well with a Sauber. Those roses clash dramatically with the blue-yellow of that livery.”
“Oh, definitely. If you work for Sauber, you can NOT wear that dress. It would be a crime to combine the two. If that ever happens, I insist the team is disqualified from the championship for crimes committed against eye sight.”

At this point it might be a useful to mention that this conversation took place while a friend and I were browsing the formula 1-section of a motorsport website (which was full of Sauber pictures), when suddenly Google Ads decided to insert a picture of a dress as a personalised advertisement. When you’re me, that happens. Surprisingly often too, if you must know.

On the Road

“I’ll admit it. That Worst of 90s Music-CD was a good idea.”
“I told you it’d make the road to the Nürburgring more fun.”
“But some of these songs are really jogging my memory.”
“Surely you know this one.”
“Ehm, the intro does ring a bell. Faintly.”
“It’s the Vengaboys!”
“Oh! With Up & Down!”
“YES! It’s brilliant for a sing-a-long! Up. And down. Up. And down.”
“The lyrics definitely aren’t hard to learn, haha.”
“UP! AND DOWN! UP! AND DOWN!”
“That’s it.”
“UP! AND DOWN! UP! AND DOWN!”
“You know, technically that’s wrong. It’s not…”
“UP!”
“It’s just…”
“DOWN!”
“We’re in the Eiffel after all. There are hills everywhere. So sometimes you go…”
“UP!”
“But right now we’re just going…”
“DOWN! Mmm, good point.”
“Really?”
“Yes. DOWN! AND DOWN! DOWN! AND DOWN!”
“Ah.”
“DOWN! AND DOWN! DOWN! AND DOWN!”
“You’re not seriously going to keep this up for the whole way…”
“DOWN! AND DOWN!”
“I guess you are.”
“DOWN! AND DOWN! DOWN! AND DOWN!”
“Oh, look. Yay! The bottom of the valley!”
“DOWN! AND DOWN! DOWN! AND…”
“No. No. NO. We’re at the low point! It’s level ground!”
“Spoilsport.”
“No more ‘down down down’, hahaha!”
“But… do you know what happens when you leave a valley?”
“Huh?”
“You can see it happening just ahead, over there.”
“Oh, no. Please, no.”
“Oh, yes! You go… Up! And up! Up! And up! UP! AND UP!”
“This isn’t funny.”
“UP! AND UP! UP! AND UP!”
“Just shut…”
“UP!”
“Yes!”
“AND UP!”

Flame War!

I tweet on my own behalf, but I’m by no means the only girl who talks racing. I’m surrounded by a tight group of (girl)friends who all enjoy watching racing. I even met most of them on race tracks. Maybe that sounds strange, but it isn’t. Not really. The hard-core motorsport fangirls’ community is a rather small one. And only a small percentage of the fangirls in that community are capable of paying regular visits to race tracks. So during events you quickly start running into the same people, over and over again. It’s practically impossible not to form friendships.

But don’t be mistaken. It’s not all sugar and spice. Sport doesn’t just bring people together, it can also drive them apart. This has lead my friends and I to pick up a few odd habits over the years. Most prominent among them is our tendency to keep a Flame War going amongst ourselves. I can’t even remember how it started. Probably really innocently. Gags usually do. But after nearly a decade, it’s become a monster than can hardly be ignored. It works more or less like this: once it’s become known that one of us supports a certain driver, nearly everybody else will instantly develop a grudge against him (or her). This leaves the fangirl in question to defend every single move of ‘her guy/gal’. The fierceness with which this needs to be done varies from day to day, message to message.

Most of the flames I receive are messages like “why did your guy push mine into the gravel?!” or “HOW does your guy dare to qualify in front of mine?!”. During a race things sometimes get a bit more heated: “No offense to your guy, but my guy is faster so I’m going to tell him TO CRUSH YOURS.” But all that I can all handle. What I find difficult is talking my way out of the messages that tend to arrive, out of the blue, on week days: “I just saw this photo of your guy on twitter. Explain. Those. Flip-flops.” When something like that comes in, you have to have an intelligent retort ready in an instant. If you don’t (and I often don’t!), your only option is to try and improvise your way out. Luckily that’s more up my street. For example, whenever my Nico Rosberg-supporting friend puts me with my back against a wall and things get hairy (pun very much intended), I always find a way to remind her of the existence of My Little Nico:

Source: WTF1

That usually annoys her so much she forgets what she was on about before.

But even though I love annoying my friends on purpose, the best thing about the Flame War is that it can become a Lame War in a matter of seconds. Take this year’s Nürburgring 24h weekend, for instance. My friend and I had been arguing for literally days about whose favourite would come out on top. But when my guy got pulled into somebody else’s crash 45 minutes into the race, the bickering stopped straight away. All of a sudden everything was forgotten and we were on the same page again, supporting each other as well as our drivers. I guess that’s the beauty of friendship. No matter how much of a git you’ve been, friends will still be there for you when it matters.