Swan song

And not the kind immortalized in all of those black light Led Zeppelin posters.

Today was Michael Schumacher's final race. Forever. For F1. And it was hard to say goodbye.

He came in 4th- for those of you who didn't watch- after coming from last place after a tire mishap. Bloody epic.

Now I face the decision- who is my racer next year? Michael replaced Mika- who will replace him? Damn. Seems like slim pickings. Little shallow rockstar drivers...Pah.

We watched with some other enthusiasts- hosted by a co-worker- in an upscale as hell neighborhood- in a house that I will never dream of affording (but that's ok- not my style anyway- it was beautiful, however)- with neighbors of equal standing in the community. They provided Brazilian food- and I restrained myself and didn't talk about Brazilians. The porno kind. Because it would make all of the other rich folks uncomfortable.

But I got to be the gearhead girl fo the group. I got to see the race cars that the guys owned. It was cool. A Cobra high-end replica. A Viper that is raced in SCCA GT1. Mrowr. Made me all happy. Because rather than sit in the kitchen with the girls discussing recipes for salsa, or whatever the fuck was the discussion, I got to play in the garage with the boys and see the cars.

So that's all.