Ellos hacen.
So yes.
How long has it been, you ask?
Two years, you say?
Wunderbar, I answer.
So what now, you wonder.
I tell you, nothing. I take things as they come.
Not hunting or at the very least looking, you query?
No, I assure you.
Why ever not?
So much to do so little time, I say with a grin.
Well, better find time because I'd like to see young Helena and Tomas run around.
That won't happen so soon, oh dearest. Have a little patience, I request. In time.
Sweet and short. Just like that. And she's already thinking about my children's names! -.-" You paedophilic thing!
So, yes. It's been two years. If you're wondering do the years fly by too soon, they do.
People like Paris Hilton.
People like Cristiano Ronaldo.
People like young boys. For all the times you told me to marry him, this is my turn now.
In short, people find different things fascinating. And I respect them for that. So long as they don't try that hard to convert me. Some people are trying so hard to convert me into jumping on the Cristiano Ronaldo-worshipping bandwagon. Bleh.
People know I love football. I was watching the Arsenal-Inter Milan match again, so that I could make fun of her. I can't help it, but it's funny. First love was always football.
But when there was no football action, I was beyond bored. Restless like hell, okay.
Some people were just bored. I, on the other hand, have another sport to be obsessed about.
F1. I know, I know. What's so freaking fascinating about 22 drivers driving around the track over and over again?
If people were to be cynical about F1 like that, they might as well ask themselves why do they watch their preferred sport.
Why do you watch 22 idiots running around on a pitch chasing after one ball?
Why do you watch girls twirl hoops and ribbons and chase after it and hop around like rabbits?
Why do you watch golf when it's only to see a man push the ball into a hole?
**Okay, the last one sounds horribly wrong. But there's nothing wrong with it. You sick people**
Whoo! See how shiny the floor is! Can see the reflection of the car!
So, anyway. The obsession for fast cars on the tracks came about when I was 12 and silly. It was when Malaysia first hosted the race in Sepang. I got instantly hooked. I loved the cars, the tactics and the intense moments of when one driver wanted to overtake the other. I watched it with the father, who obviously is the person behind everything related to my interests in sports.
We both had our favourite driver. It was Mika Hakkinen. Oh yes, the real Flying Finn. He was blond and old (okay fine, older than me) but he had this look that told you he was humble and all. I don't know what it was about him, it's just that I know he was a great driver.
We loved to see him race. I remembered one race, the Spanish GP in 2001. He was so close to the chequered flag but the worst case scenario happened. His car just failed on him and stopped yards away from the finish line. But he hopped on to David Coulthard's car and waved to the crowd. That was one of the fondest memories I remember of him.
Then, at the end of the season...he announced that he was leaving, a sabbatical one, apparently. But then in 2002, he said he was retiring. It was heart-breaking. There would be no one like him anymore. Schumi is great also-lah, but I don't like him that much.
I have forever pledged my allegiance to this team because of him. It had nothing to do with Kimi Raikkonen or David Coulthard or Juan Pablo Montoya. They may be amazing and all, but there is only one Mika Hakkinen.
I got the car from the father in 2000. He knew I would love it. Not the brother, for sure. He can't say their names straight, but he got to go to last year's race. How unfair. I have never played with it because I wanted to preserve its silver and black beauty that had the name MIKA on it. I once famously wrecked an awesomely new red remote-controlled car because I placed it on the table thinking it would land safely onto the ground. Hey, I was four and tiny, okay.
People had KITT from Knight Rider.
People had Greased Lightnin' from Grease.
I have my own version of KITT and Greased Lightnin'.
The floor hasn't been mopped or swept for three weeks, mind you.
And I will NOT name it anything other than MIKA because of the man who got me hooked to not only Formula One, but also McLaren Mercedes. The one and only Mika Hakkinen, the Flying Finn.
Race you on the tarmac, then?
How long has it been, you ask?
Two years, you say?
Wunderbar, I answer.
So what now, you wonder.
I tell you, nothing. I take things as they come.
Not hunting or at the very least looking, you query?
No, I assure you.
Why ever not?
So much to do so little time, I say with a grin.
Well, better find time because I'd like to see young Helena and Tomas run around.
That won't happen so soon, oh dearest. Have a little patience, I request. In time.
Sweet and short. Just like that. And she's already thinking about my children's names! -.-" You paedophilic thing!
So, yes. It's been two years. If you're wondering do the years fly by too soon, they do.
*****
People like Harry Potter.People like Paris Hilton.
People like Cristiano Ronaldo.
People like young boys. For all the times you told me to marry him, this is my turn now.
In short, people find different things fascinating. And I respect them for that. So long as they don't try that hard to convert me. Some people are trying so hard to convert me into jumping on the Cristiano Ronaldo-worshipping bandwagon. Bleh.
People know I love football. I was watching the Arsenal-Inter Milan match again, so that I could make fun of her. I can't help it, but it's funny. First love was always football.
But when there was no football action, I was beyond bored. Restless like hell, okay.
Some people were just bored. I, on the other hand, have another sport to be obsessed about.
F1. I know, I know. What's so freaking fascinating about 22 drivers driving around the track over and over again?
If people were to be cynical about F1 like that, they might as well ask themselves why do they watch their preferred sport.
Why do you watch 22 idiots running around on a pitch chasing after one ball?
Why do you watch girls twirl hoops and ribbons and chase after it and hop around like rabbits?
Why do you watch golf when it's only to see a man push the ball into a hole?
**Okay, the last one sounds horribly wrong. But there's nothing wrong with it. You sick people**
Whoo! See how shiny the floor is! Can see the reflection of the car!
So, anyway. The obsession for fast cars on the tracks came about when I was 12 and silly. It was when Malaysia first hosted the race in Sepang. I got instantly hooked. I loved the cars, the tactics and the intense moments of when one driver wanted to overtake the other. I watched it with the father, who obviously is the person behind everything related to my interests in sports.
We both had our favourite driver. It was Mika Hakkinen. Oh yes, the real Flying Finn. He was blond and old (okay fine, older than me) but he had this look that told you he was humble and all. I don't know what it was about him, it's just that I know he was a great driver.
We loved to see him race. I remembered one race, the Spanish GP in 2001. He was so close to the chequered flag but the worst case scenario happened. His car just failed on him and stopped yards away from the finish line. But he hopped on to David Coulthard's car and waved to the crowd. That was one of the fondest memories I remember of him.
Then, at the end of the season...he announced that he was leaving, a sabbatical one, apparently. But then in 2002, he said he was retiring. It was heart-breaking. There would be no one like him anymore. Schumi is great also-lah, but I don't like him that much.
I have forever pledged my allegiance to this team because of him. It had nothing to do with Kimi Raikkonen or David Coulthard or Juan Pablo Montoya. They may be amazing and all, but there is only one Mika Hakkinen.
I got the car from the father in 2000. He knew I would love it. Not the brother, for sure. He can't say their names straight, but he got to go to last year's race. How unfair. I have never played with it because I wanted to preserve its silver and black beauty that had the name MIKA on it. I once famously wrecked an awesomely new red remote-controlled car because I placed it on the table thinking it would land safely onto the ground. Hey, I was four and tiny, okay.
People had KITT from Knight Rider.
People had Greased Lightnin' from Grease.
I have my own version of KITT and Greased Lightnin'.
The floor hasn't been mopped or swept for three weeks, mind you.
And I will NOT name it anything other than MIKA because of the man who got me hooked to not only Formula One, but also McLaren Mercedes. The one and only Mika Hakkinen, the Flying Finn.
Race you on the tarmac, then?
posted by Anodynous Roxy at
18:51
4 Comments
