I have a confession to make. I've some how reverted to that wienie status in life when you have a totally silly crush on someone. Unfortunately, now that I'm in my mid-*cough*-thirties, the object of my crush is for the first time, younger than me. Thankfully he'll be turning 30 this spring, so I won't feel quite as lecherous as if he were 19.

I love Elliott Sadler. Love. Adore. Respect. Love love love!

There, it's out. I mean, what the hell has happened? I was never a Nascar fan in the first place. I was always the one who would say it was so stupid, all those morons making left hand turns for hours.

No. Not anymore.

Now I hang on the end of the love seat, screaming "go go go!!!" and feel like I'm lacking something in life because I don't own an Elliott shirt. (Ignore my 2 hats, jacket, multiple cars, and a figurine.) I don't have a shirt ......... *whine whine whine* I need one and must find one before next Sunday's race. Must! I feel his success personally hinges on me finding one. Yep, I've gone nuts. Peanuts actually ... M&Ms with peanuts to be specific.

Why Elliott? I was told last year that I needed to pick a racer to cheer for. M had Jeff Gordon, Youngest Son picked Tony Stewart, and me being me I went for the car with chocolate on it. Plus I vaguely remembered his Talledaga crash from the year before, and his great attitude about it all. I liked that. I like someone who can go through such shit and be positive and optimistic.

A little research proved him to be a nice guy, with a nice brother (Go Hermie Go!) and a bunch of other fans who also think he, his brother, and whole family are really nice people.

So there you go ... I picked a nice racer. Some day I hope to meet him and I'm gonna hug him and squeeze him and hug him and squeeze him and ....

in a nice way you know?

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