5/29/2012- I told myself when I started this whole blog thing, that I would stick with it every day. It's been three days since my last post and I realize why I told myself that in the beginning. It felt so good to write something everyday. Even if no one else on this planet read it. It felt better writing it, saying it out loud to myself. I actually have felt guilty that I cheated myself the last three days of my personal time. There are not many moments throughout my day that I get that chance. And from now on, I will make that promise to myself. It's my therapy and cheap counseling as my lovely Aunt Jo would say.

I spent that entire summer chasing Scott around like a child. It didn't matter to me where he was, who he was with or what he was doing. I just wanted to be in his presence and maybe someday he would notice me. He finally invited me to hang out at the race shop and go the races that weekend. That's when the racing bug started with me. I knew if I wanted to be with him, I had to go the races. I didn't have the slightest clue about any of it. I didn't understand the desire of being at a racetrack where it was loud, dirty and the bathrooms were atrocious.  Not to mention, the overpriced food. Of which, I am positive, never passed a health inspection. I surely didn't understand the passion that so many people had for the sport. It seemed to me like a lot of time, money, blood, sweat and tears for very little money. No place for a any man, let alone a young lady.

I knew that I had to suck it up, look cute and go along. And I did, 20 years strong now. He always said he wanted me to go with him. But what I couldn't figure out is why? Why would I go to a place that was loud, dirty and disgusting to have you ignore me the entire night because you were busy racing? Only talk to me when you needed me to go to the concession stand for your food, or get you a papertowel or get you a water, or get the lineups for the heat races? It took me a long time to get over that and now I understand my place on the "racing team". It wasn't for us to hang out together and spend quality time, it was just important to him that I be there supporting him and what he did. I get that now.

Thank God, my first few years of this I had support. Scott's step-mom, Cindy, quickly became my best friend, sister and confidant. We felt the same pain.  She had been doing this for several years before I met her. Crazy lady!! Women in racing make some huge sacrifices to support their husbands, I don't think most people understand what goes into this, even at the level of racing we were doing. This was recreation, supposed to fun. But if I had a dollar for every hour spent in the garage, at the track or talking about racing, I would live in one hell of a house, drive an amazing vehicle, have more than one vacation home and someone else would be typing this for me!!

There was one day in particular, that I will never forget. The day I knew he was the one and he felt the same way about me. My dad loves to tell this story even today, 20 some years later. We had "hooked up" several times, on and off, nothing serious. No commitments made. Scott had been working out of town for a while and I hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. I was working at a machine shop, second shift, which sucked. But it was a paycheck and I drove a pretty bad ass Trans Am. It was late, like three in the morning. I was watching tv in my room at my parents house, eating Doritos.  Then came a knock on the door. All I could hear was my dad saying, "Who the fuck are you?" Oh God, I never ran so fast from my room to the front door in all my life. When I got there, my father, in his whitie tighties, was talking to Scott. I am pretty sure Scott was a little intoxicated at the time, but he'll never admit it. That was the first time my dad met the man of my dreamsand his future son-in-law. Scott professed his love for me and my dad let me go outside to hear what he had to say. Mind you, I had Dorito breath the whole time!! He didn't seem to care and neither did I.

The rest is history!!