#and i have a linkedin but i've never touched it actually

[miodiodavinci]

you know i'm thinking about it again and i'm wondering if i ought to eventually private my main twitter and turn it into an archive purely because i've had that since 2015 and only opened my actual private in like. 2017 so there is All Sorts of dumb personal vent things in the depths of it that i'd rather not have scrolled through by anyone professional with the determination to do so skfdjhglkj

[heliads]

i've got my eye on you

Nico Rosberg has moved on from 2016; the silver war; all of it. So he thought, at least. Lewis is still here, though, and that makes the forgetting so much more difficult.

masterlist

Nico Rosberg is not lonely, most of the time. He’s a busy man; he meets a lot of people, takes them out to drinks or dinner parties, and exchanges LinkedIns as often as phone numbers. It’s a good life. Keeps him sane. 

Sometimes, though. Sometimes, Nico finds himself waiting for something else, something better, something real. That’s when he crosses the line he swears he’ll never touch again and thinks about someone specific. There is a man living in his very same complex, someone who knows Nico better than the scores of environmental activists and Sky Sports reporters, and Nico doubts they’ll ever be the same again. 

They were good in the beginning. Better than good, they were the best and everyone knew it. The silver arrows, finest of the fine. They had identical white race suits and the same exact drive to win. That’s where they ran into problems, of course, because the podium only has space for one king to have a crown. The other has to be left in the shadow, the cursed second place. No one could live like that forever. They certainly didn’t.

Still, they were the same in almost every aspect. Nico swapped up their hats once, towards the end. He had wanted to throttle whoever had the idea to make their merch so similar. They may be on the same damn team, but that doesn’t mean they have to match in everything else as well. Same logo, same colors, and then Nico had taken off his cap to fidget with it and saw Lewis’ name there instead of his own, embroidered into the black fabric with the precision of a machine stitch. 

Funny how Nico can literally walk around wearing Lewis’ name against his skull, and they still have no more claim to each other than complete strangers. Worse than strangers, actually. They had once been everything.

Some days, he thinks about it all the time. Other days, he forces it out of his mind until he can almost delude himself into thinking it’ll never show up again. And, on other, worse days, such as this one, Nico walks into the lobby of his home building in Monaco, both of his daughters holding his hands, and he spots Lewis across the room, pulling a suitcase behind him. Must have been a race weekend. Nico knows it is, of course, fixates over every score like he’s still in it, but. It’s easier to pretend that he could forget.

Usually, Nico’s good at brushing off encounters like this, but they’re just too close for that tactic to work. Nico wasn’t expecting it; last night ended up being late, plus he’s been out with the girls all morning. That’s why he doesn’t just keep walking, why he actually stops and stares. Lewis comes to a standstill around the same time. Must be the jetlag getting to him. That, and the fact that they haven’t been face to face outside of a race or work setting in months.

Nico should keep moving. He doesn’t, even as his girls tug at his hands in confusion. They know of Lewis, certainly, they’ve seen pictures up on the fridge and online, but they didn’t know Lewis like Nico did. No one could.

“It’s good to see you,” Nico says uncertainly. Pleasantries never fail.

Lewis shudders slightly and nods. “Yeah, you too. Hope the girls are doing well,” he adds, as if he can’t see both blonde daughters right by Nico’s side. They’re still holding onto his hands, one apiece, and eyeing Lewis with wide, curious stares. They’ve inherited that from him already, it seems, the inability to look away.

“Do you two want some sweets?” Lewis asks suddenly. “I keep a bag in my luggage.”

Nico frowns, asks something asinine about drivers and nutritionists and fitness goals. Lewis just chuckles and says that he never actually opens the thing, just keeps it in the bag so he can practice self discipline or something else insane like that. God, he always tried to be the best of them.

His girls don’t know any of that sort of life, though, and won’t so long as Nico can help it, so they just clap their hands and plead for a treat or two. Nico gives the appropriate nod when it’s clear that Lewis is serious.

Lewis kneels down to the ground, unzips the top of his suitcase and pulls out a bag. Crisp, unopened, just as promised. Lewis’ resolve held all this time, then broken just now. The plastic tears easily. It doesn’t take much.

Lewis considers the bag. “I’ve always been fond of those. They remind me of some stuff I used to love a while back. They were from some small town, I don’t remember where.”

“Hoddesdon,” Nico says. He states the place aloud like he’s rattling off one of a thousand countries or capital cities, some bright child with a knack for memory games who will grow up into a man who knows too many languages but not enough people with whom to practice. “You’re talking about the candy from Hoddesdon.” Town near the place they used to kart together. Close enough to walk or bike from any hotel or flat. Two boys could do it easily if they were inclined to stay out all day and night, and they usually were.

Lewis’ head snaps up, and the brief look of shock and wonder reminds Nico of when they were kids. It’s the exact same expression Lewis would wear when Nico agreed to buy him some sweets. Even though Lewis would beg and plead with him all day long, the moment Nico said yes Lewis always looked surprised, as if he never truly expected that Nico would go along with it. That Nico would go along with him. Maybe that’s why Nico always caved. It meant he got to see that look again. 

Painfully, it also reminds Nico of how Lewis had looked when he found out Nico was retiring in 2016. They were in the midst of a massive crowd with too many overlapping voices and faces, but somehow Nico had still been able to look out across the crowded room and sight Lewis the moment Nico opened his mouth and announced his retirement. 

It had been the same expression then as now. The brief drop of his stomach like a roller coaster, the smooth spread of a poker face to cover up any emotional slips or wide eyes. All of it. Lewis had never told Nico any of this, of course, but Nico has known Lewis long enough to read his body, his mind, his entire life. It’s why he likes pointing out Lewis’ flaws on Sky Sports; just another way of proving that he’s still got it, that no matter how much Lewis changes, Nico Rosberg still knows exactly what makes him tick. 

More often than not back then, it was Nico. It’s still Nico now whenever they awkwardly run into each other in their complex or Nico analyzes him a little too well on live TV. 

Right now, though, Lewis is not angry at him, just caught off guard. Something in the back of Nico’s brain says that he likes that more. Nico scowls to himself and wonders why he hadn’t shut that voice up years ago. 

“Yeah,” Lewis says at last, after a weighty pause that Nico isn’t entirely sure doesn’t solely happen in the confines of his own head, “Yeah, it was.”

To distract himself, Lewis remembers what he’s promised and hands some individually wrapped candies to the two blonde girls clustering in front of him. Nico remains where he is, watching as Lewis replaces the bag in his luggage again, closes the top, stands up and mumbles something about how he’d better get going. Crazy travel like always. You know how it is.

Nico does know. He nods, giving Lewis the reprieve he needs to head to the lift. Nico thinks that he might actually lose his mind if he was in the same small box rattling up to their floor, looking anywhere but at Lewis, so he diverts his girls to throw their trash away first and Lewis gets away. Another lift comes in a short time. Everything is just as it was before, but– not at all.

His daughters cheer over their new sweets, giggling down the hallway about how they were able to convince Mr. Hamilton to give up his secret stash. Nico is plagued by the sudden thought that if he had married Lewis like he’d wondered about all those years ago, if they had adopted these girls instead of them being Nico’s by bloodline, that he might laugh about their reaction being inherited from Lewis instead of, you know, from him. It makes Nico think about just how much of Lewis is left in him. It makes him question if any of Nico is trapped inside Lewis, waiting to be let free. 

Even after he gets back to his place and locks the door carefully to guard against any unwholesome influences, Nico’s entire train of thought is rattled for the rest of the day. Nico has been trying his damndest to avoid Lewis every time they catch the lift or leave the building around the same time, and he knows full well Lewis has been doing the same. He’s all but admitted to it a few instances before.

This is why they play this elaborate game of hide and never seek, then. Nico lies awake at night, remembering paths he hasn’t gone over in a long time. The start. The glorious first act. How it had all broken to pieces. Nico had said before that he doesn’t regret the rivalry, that it only pushed them to greater heights, and he stands by that now. Still. That doesn’t mean his blood doesn’t run dark with grief to think of everything they once had that is gone forever now.

Nico can remember talking with his communications handler about it one time. He and Lewis had been fracturing for a while by then, but they’d only started showing it publicly for a few weeks. The guy had told Nico that this was good, actually, that people liked the slow burn death of it all. It was like watching a railway crash in slow motion, the guy had said. You know it’ll hurt and you know it’ll end badly but you just can’t look away for the life of you. 

It had made Nico’s veins thrum with the unhappy sickness of needing to prove the truth to be a lie. He’d wanted to spit in the guy’s face; swear at him until he ran out of breath; go drag Lewis in front of a live camera and make out with him until their gums bled, just to prove that they were still totally fine. 

Look where all that pent up self-justification got him, though. Nico and Lewis are hiding from each other in the same complex, too convinced that the other needs to change to ever leave. The comms handler must be laughing at them still, gleeful and victorious after Nico made him rich. 

There was a lot that even the viewers didn’t see. It’s not like either of them really tried to hide it, how they broke apart, but even so. People only saw the same few photos of sun bleached hair and gap toothed grins and unicycles, they didn’t know all of it. Nico thinks that’s for the best. The thought that anyone could know even half of what they had is intrusive and wrong.

When he closes his eyes, he can see all of it at once, overlapped like a thousand magazine clippings. Sleeping over and staying out late and making the same stupid jokes every time. Trying each other’s food and loudly arguing irrelevant details and racing and racing and racing. Small nothings that only serve to make him smile. More important stuff. Secrets Nico has only kept to himself.

Nico has only kissed Lewis once. That’s not counting stupid things like kisses on cheeks, everyone knows those don’t actually matter. That’s why you can get away with doing them in the background of televised interviews, in large crowds, even next to your father. People wouldn’t care, anyway. They’d laugh and say that he and Lewis were European, that’s what they did. It wasn’t real. It could never be real. When you count up how many times Nico wanted to kiss Lewis and didn’t, though— well, that would be like damn near every day. 

The one kiss was different. That was on purpose. He’s thinking about it now. It was late at night. 2015. Abu Dhabi. Nico had wanted to win that championship more than he’d wanted anything in his life. Maybe he’d fucked himself over in Austin, maybe even earlier, but it was still Lewis with the security of that title once the final race was over. He’d driven beneath the waving flag, he’d smiled and cheered in all the photographs, and Nico had felt this terrible sort of rage simmering beneath his bones.

The kiss had been later, at one in a successive chain of afterparties for both Mercedes drivers, technically, but mainly for Lewis. Lewis was the one who got it done. Lewis was the one who made them all proud. Lewis was also the one who pulled Nico aside when everyone else was busy getting shitfaced or screaming their heads off.

It had been dark. No one had seen. Lewis had grinned at him, asked Nico if he was really going to sulk the whole night. Nico had said something stupid like why shouldn’t I and give me a reason to stop and, well, Lewis had. Nico can still feel that night burned into him, taste it like all those times he drank champagne on a podium straight from Lewis’ hands. Salt and sweet and shameless. 

Lewis had pulled away just a little, enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, and asked if he was better. Nico lied, said yes, and swore to himself that he would win the next championship just so the next time this happened, he would not be the one to suffer. Betrayed with a kiss. Nico had made a proper Judas after all. He can still see the faces of everyone at Mercedes after he walked out of that contract, how even Vivian had cautiously asked him if he was really sure this was what he wanted. No one knew Nico Rosberg at all, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

Still, though. Thinking about the past makes him think about the kiss. They may have been somewhere between tipsy and wasted when it happened, but Nico swears that it had been a long time coming since before the fights even started. It just took the ache of resentment to let them cross that bridge and leave it burning.

He shouldn’t think about it anymore. He definitely shouldn’t think about how he’s still in the same building as Lewis, so close. Viv is out with the girls at the moment. No one would know. If Lewis rejects him here and now, well, Nico can always go back to his green energy fanboys and YouTube subscribers to soothe his ego.

This is a bad idea, and Nico can’t help it. He paces back and forth on the hallway he thinks might be Lewis’, dragging his heels like Lewis might be able to sense his hesitation somewhere, wherever he is, and come out at last. At the start of it, Nico has about a thousand different things he wants to say, accusations and apologies and mundane pleasantries all.

At the end, when Lewis does come out of his room, Nico doesn’t say anything. Can’t say anything. Instead, he just sort of nods, raises a hand halfway like he’s doing that weird half-jog at the start of a crosswalk. 

Lewis waits, silhouetted against the threshold of his door, and when it’s clear that Nico won’t be doing or saying a whole lot at the moment, smiles and asks, “What, come here often?”

It’s a stupid joke. Nico laughs anyway. “We both live here,” he says somewhat impetuously.

Lewis tilts his head to the side, considering this. “Not right here, I think.”

Nico narrows his eyes, debating whether he truly has to explain the abstractions of flat rooms versus buildings, but Lewis breaks into that light chuckle of his and Nico lets go of his irritation, he lets go.

“I’m kidding, man,” Lewis tells him, still unable to hide a laugh, “Just trying to mess with you. Can I ask why you’re here, though?”

It’s a fair question. Nico is, in fact, loitering outside of his former friend turned rival turned something’s door like he’s got nowhere better to be. He doesn’t, but that’s beside the point. Truth be told, Nico himself doesn’t entirely know why he’s here. It just seemed like the place he needed to be.

“I was thinking,” he begins, “About a lot, actually. It’s been a while.”

Lewis stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, and then all of a sudden his entire being relaxes and he opens the door a little more. Good of him for finally recognizing an olive branch when Nico offers it. God knows he’s been practically screaming it every interview they’ve shared, every time they’ve met each other’s eyes in the paddock when he was there with Sky Sports.

“Wow,” Lewis mumbles, “Yeah. That sounds– that sounds good.”

This time Nico can’t hide his derisive snort. “That’s terrible. We’ve been avoiding this for ages. I run into you, we act nice, then run off. We have to face this.”

A brief spark of anger flashes through Lewis’ eyes– good, that’s something Nico can handle, something familiar that they can both feel better about than this strange nothingness– but even that’s gone soon enough. Lewis doesn’t have to put up with him like a teammate, Nico supposes. Whatever they do from here on out is their own undoing, the red purely on their ledgers. He wants to drown in it.

Lewis knows this too, Nico can taste it like blood on a bitten tongue. They stand there for a moment longer, daring each other to take it further. It’s a familiar game, one they’ve played since kids. I’ll go faster if you do. You��ll jump off the bridge so long as I go first.

The heavy pause ends with the gasp of a caught breath. Lewis hesitates a bit, wobbling on the heels of his feet, then rocks back down to earth at last. “You can come in, you know. If you want to.”

The sentence sort of makes Nico sick. There was a time when he wouldn’t have had to offer such a thing at all. The invitation would have gone without question. Nico thinks he lived half of his childhood at Lewis’ place instead of his, in hotel rooms and bedrooms and streets behind houses. The other half Lewis was at Nico’s. The thought that at some point they would be grown and staring at each other, having to wait for a formal question to share each other’s space, is nothing short of horrific.

Still, it’s better than they’ve been for a long time. Nico can still feel Lewis’ gaze washing over him again and again, taking in the details. They’re older, both of them, but not beyond the urge to stare. He can feel the weight of it on his throat, heavy like a chain, and it robs him a little of his faux confidence.

 Nico nods once, the movement jerky and unsteady. “Alright,” he says, smiles, loosens his collar, and follows Lewis in.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[donnerpartyofone]

Maybe if I write this down I will get it out of my system and actually get some work done:

I decided to do a little year-end correspondence today, which would have included finally answering an email from an old college buddy who found me on LinkedIn (a red flag actually, but anyway). At that time, months ago, I sent him a quick email, and soon I received a lengthy reply detailing what seemed like everything that had happened to him since 2008. I felt overwhelmed. I don't mind a long letter, but a lot of it seemed to be a list of impressive professional achievements, and I couldn't figure out how to respond. The honest version of an in-kind personal update would be to say what a hopeless case I am, and how I found out through plenty of trial and error and a handful of abusive relationships that I'm not really meant for anything except struggling, but I managed to prevent myself from dumping all of that on him. With that stuff off the table, though, I couldn't think of anything to say at all, and I let it languish. Today I finally felt guilty enough about it that I re-read his letter with the intention of replying, and then I realized that this person is probably sort of insane.

I mean not to be so glib about it, but it was already a little weird for him to be sending this epic biography to someone he doesn't really know that well. We got along in college, but obviously we didn't stay in touch; I always thought of him as this sort of downtrodden Charlie Brown type of character, someone I liked but was never close with. His letter made it seem like he'd gotten his shit together in a big way since then, and you know, bully for him. But then I began to absorb what his letter really said, once I felt less overwhelmed, and like...it didn't seem good. There were these weird pieces of information that he sort of floated without really explaining himself. The last thing I knew was that, despite being sort of a self-pitying sad sack, he managed to land this terrific girl we knew, who I guiltily thought was too good for him. She had tons of great qualities, but was terminally insecure and I think in a lot of pain...so maybe they had a lot to offer each other on that level, it was none of my business. But in the guy's letter, he describes breaking up with her and writing an essay about it that won some literary prize; he says she found out about it, which seems to have this dark connotation, but doesn't say anything about what the consequences of that might have been. He just reiterates that he won a big prize, and moves on.

Well, he sort of says something else about it: Perhaps inevitably, he provides a breakdown of all these mental conditions he's diagnosed himself with over his long journey of self-discovery, including PTSD...which he assigns to a bizarre childhood injury. About which he provides no details. He just says that getting physically hurt as a kid made him permanently distrustful of the world, and that's why he broke up with his girlfriend, because the stress of the childhood injury made him afraid of intimacy. But he doesn't say that he was abused as a child, or in a dramatic accident, or that like, maybe his parents were checked out and neglectfully left him alone to hurt himself, or maybe, I don't know, they were poor and had physically dangerous circumstances...all he says is that being injured made him mistrust the world, and I guess that's why he's kind of an asshole today. Huh.

Then he explains how Trump and the pandemic were really great for him because adversity helped him find out who he is -- I think that's what he was saying -- and that's a bad sign in and of itself. During the past, uh...bunch of global crises that have seriously affected lots of people's lives and safety, I've noticed certain individuals using these mass events to get attention for themselves, and this inclination to make a catastrophe all about YOU is something I've learned to watch out for. Anyway, then he gives me his whole detailed political and sex/gender taxonomical breakdown, none of which contained anything really radical or novel, but I have a personal aversion to that kind of thing. I'm more forgiving of it in younger people, I guess, but I think there's something pathological about hyperactively putting every aspect of your existence in these little diagnostic boxes. It's simultaneously like, you want to be part of a club instead of just being yourself, AND you're wearing all these little egotistical badges of identity -- it's the thrill of taking a Cosmo quiz writ large, and you're insisting that everyone take it Very Seriously. This is not a good sign.

So I'm trying to figure out what I can possibly say to at least honor the fact that an old friend wrote me a long letter, and I think maybe I should read his prize-winning essay about breaking up with my other friend. And man, that was like...mainly a litany of complaints about her without any real understanding of who she is. There's like half a sentence devoted to the fact that she's very depressed and afraid she's wasted her life, and a bit more than that devoted to the fact that she drinks -- at which point I was thinking, well Jesus Christ WHY WOULDN'T SHE. The whole essay is about him visiting her at New Year's, being extremely cold to her, complaining about everything, showing zero interest in the obvious pain that she's in, and then waxing poetic (pilfering lines from actual writers) about how he can't wait to break up with her. And I mean, at least somewhere in his letter to me he suggested an awareness that he wasn't totally fair to her, but separate of his problems, I was bothered by the idea that this thing won him a literary prize. I mean I don't know if it was a big one, but they gave him a bunch of money, and it just seemed so symptomatic of what people always say about the literary world: that it disproportionately rewards young men who guiltlessly celebrate their own worst qualities. Even if the writing isn't very good, apparently.

When I had finished the email, I thought back on how I had almost written him this whole thing about being a worthless nobody, and then I thought, Man you do not deserve to hear about what a bad person I am! I mean this is probably exactly what he did to our mutual friend who was too good for him, getting her to be vulnerable about her self-esteem and then just dominating her. I'm not really mad at him, I feel sort of sorry for him on some level. But I don't think I can subscribe to a regular feed of these kinds of narcissistic confessions. It took enough of my energy just to write this like processing post, in order to NOT write him back. I've made the mistake of giving the wrong person attention before, and I don't think I'm going to do it again.

POSTSCRIPT I just realized that maybe there's an even better reason for me not to keep this contact going. In college there was a very awkward, drunken moment where I gave him this whole speech about how he shouldn't be so down on himself, or let other people push him around, because he's really a catch for a whole list of reasons. Unfortunately I think this was very confusing and taken as a sexual overture. It was kind of my fault for being extremely, historically obtuse about what men will interpret as an invitation to fuck, but at the same time this is a problem a lot of men have; you know, they act all lonely, and then you show them some understanding, and it turns into, "If you aren't gonna fuck me then why are you here." Not that this turned into a whole thing, but it definitely created a weird atmosphere, and then I started looking back on different micro-events, like...I didn't date much in college (or ever, really, and while I am picky I'm also just not very desirable), and then later in life when I finally had a boyfriend this guy made some remark about how he wanted to meet the boyfriend because he was confused about what kind of guy I would go out with, or something. Which is sort of a weird thing to express, like he needs to meet my boyfriend because he can't picture who I would choose to fuck? And then in his recent email he mentioned something I didn't remember, that when he got his big literary prize he had to go to a ceremony in the city, and he invited me to hang out at his hotel because he felt so alone among (and morally superior to) the rich lit world people. He seemed to want me to know how disappointed he was that I didn't come, but I sort of thought, Why me though? We had a lot of friends in the city, and I'd say he's closer to most of them. That's a little weird. He knows I'm married now, but I'm starting to feel like there could be something a little off about this aggressive bid for attention. Ugh, worrying about unwanted attraction is such a gross thing for women, it's like you either sound totally egotistical and like you're accusing someone of lechery, OR you try to play it cool and casual and it turns out you were wrong and now you're in a huge amount of trouble for being nice without giving out sex. Anyway, luckily I don't have to factor that into my decision to drop contact with someone who I cannot both speak to honestly AND make him feel like the things he says are cool.

[formulatrash]

hi hazel! i hope you’re well. i totally understand if you don’t want to answer this since i’m sure you get a lot of Working In Motorsports questions. but basically i read your post about breaking into the industry and how you should never work for free…unfortunately i’m not that smart and do, in fact, Work For Free. i’m at the point now where getting paid would be quite nice actually, so i was wondering what your advice would be on taking the next step? tl;dr experience under my belt but seeking a paid role. where do you think are the best places to look? thank you! <33

hello,

honestly, understandable, it happens to a lot of people. god knows I have done a fair amount of work for free in the past year and I should surely know better.

anyway, where to look depends really on what you're looking for. if it's specifically motorsport journalism work then it's worth reaching out to people at publications* and saying "this is my experience, I appreciate you probably have a full roster at the minute but if you ever need someone to help out, I'm really looking to take the next step. include some links to your work, say what you're really interested in covering and what you can cover in a broader way and if you're available for travel.

be polite and keen and show that you understand the publication you are writing to, reference stories they already have that are the sort of thing you would like to write. if you don't hear back, email them again in a few months, persistence has weirdly paid off for a bunch of people I know; make sure you're bringing new ideas and talking about new things, saying "I know it wasn't last time but just wanted to say I'm still interested."

there are then broader industry publications where you might get commissions or where you can pitch motorsport stories. JournoResources does a newsletter every week which includes freelance pitching opportunities, all of which are paid.

if it's not journalism then start chatting to and getting in touch with people in the area you want to work. if it's social media then follow agency accounts, look out for chances where people are asking for people. speculatively getting in touch with individuals on their personal accounts isn't ccol but look out for the agencies and places like Pace Six Four, which is a huge agency, have a page to submit a speculative application in case you don't fit their roles at the moment but they might have something in future.

don't shoot over the sun by emailing Ferrari to ask if they've got any social jobs going - clearly, if they did, they'd advertise them - but it's worth asking eg: junior teams if they need any extra coverage during what's about to be a very frantic part of the season with every series racing simultaneously in Europe for weeks on end. showing you understand motorsport doesn't begin and end with F1 goes a long way.

LinkedIn is a hole and I have absolute no idea how Gen Z use it with a straight face (you guys, what the hell is this 'weekly update on my goals' business come on, millennials might be cringe but not that way) but it can be useful to follow team PRs and be able to pick up on opportunities. it's also worth following companies you want to work at, to get job alerts - check the parent companies of magazines or agencies and keep an eye out.

overall: good luck. it is incredibly rough out here at the moment and there is little to no work. I don't say that to discourage you, I say that cus if it's a struggle for you it's not because you're useless it's because everyone is struggling.

*By this I mean paying ones. of which there are astoundingly few. Autosport, Motorsport.com, Top Gear, CAR, Motor Sport Magazine and RaceFans are the only ones I can verify/vouch for are paying legal wages that are motorsport-specific in the UK - do not accept ultra-low-paid work, I've heard one publication pays £50 for a weekend of coverage which is about an eighth of minimum wage. £100 per day is still below minimum wage a lot of the time but a semi-depressing benchmark of where things are broadly at, unless you happen to have hit the big bucks (this is what I get paid). do not participate in having your labour abused, anyone doing that is not going to help you in your career.

in Europe, AutoHebdo and AmuS pay but I'm not sure much beyond that, in the US then Jalopnik, The Drive, ESPN, Road & Track, ARSTechnica etc all pay but have relatively few, if any, motorsport commissions because they tend to go to staff writers - if you can come with a unique or grassroots story though, they will pay attention. Motor1 has also just been sold so may start commissioning again soon but there's some flux going on there. I don't know if The Athletic accept motorsport pitches.

[uighean]

(shows up 3 weeks late to the tag game with an outdated meme)

tagged by @galacticlamps!!

Tea, coffee, or soda? tea!

Dogs or cats? cats! I do have a soft spot for giant female dogs that are actually terrified of everything (I've dogsat for two different dogs like this & I loved both dearly) but I could never actually own a dog

Can you play an instrument?  ougfdhjkhg I have. left my bagpipes to languish for a looong time now.

What’s your sun sign? pisces. I am a little fish guy & yet I still get terribly seasick

First song lyrics that came into your head?  I'd been listening to soundtrack music so nothing came to mind, so I kinda cheated & opened spotify to look at what I'd listened to last on there. so.

please tell me that you want me and exactly how tell me how you'll kiss me when I touch down I don't wanna be away yeah I wanna be found oh I want you now now now

Do you have any tattoos? nope! I'm way too scared of needles and idk what I'd get anyway

Favorite place you’ve travelled? hmm idk? the bay of fires is probably one of my favourite places in the world though. one time I was there at sunset with hardly anyone else around and I just sat in a shallow little inlet of water between some of the boulders for a while & I think that's the closest I've ever come to experiencing complete and utter peace

What’s the last movie you watched? oh that's a good question omg. it's been a while. pretty sure it was s čerty nejsou žerty?? it's the wound washing scene for me....................

What languages do you speak? unfortunately I am a monolingual english speaker 😔✌️ I'm learning scottish gaelic tho. would like to learn czech and ukrainian also. maybe icelandic.

Do you have any hobbies? video game......

I would definitely like to do horseriding again if I have the chance though, I miss it so much. & also I would like to try archery. and go back to rock climbing. I realise all of this makes me sound like a fantasy video game character and I am okay with that. and I would like to learn to draw!! but idk if I have the patience to stick with the learning curve gkdjf

You can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? ok if I can imagine that this fictional character is both real/accessible and has entirely accurate knowledge of their real-world historical context. I am tying jamie mccrimmon to a chair and making him tell me about all the aspects of 18th century highland society that haven't been well-preserved/documented. be my historical source boy

Compliment yourself: I accomplished Tasks today!! stumbling bloodied and bruised out of hecking. linkedin. but I did actually manage to update stuff so that's good.

tagging @ettelwenailinon @vimbry @penny-anna @carrionthird @meadowlarker @kiraistired and @p0stscripter!! no pressure tho <33

[ozma914]

Storm Report: Noble County Tornadoes, September 24

 So ... tornadoes.

I don't need to say "possible" tornadoes, because several people got videos and photos of the funnels and their damage. I headed up to dispatch, and so the photos I'm showing were taken from the dispatch window a short time after the fact.

It got pretty funky for awhile, but by the time I got to work the twisters were just crossing into LaGrange County, heading northeast. (If you're not from Indiana, LaGrange County is directly north of us in Noble County, and borders the Michigan state line.) We got a fair amount of rain, which is good for our drought, but I never noticed any thunder from here. I believe the closest the confirmed funnels got to us was five or six miles, and heading away.

It's a little hard to see through the window, but we got a rainbow, and a little later a double rainbow. This is looking northeast toward where the storms were going.

And this is looking pretty much straight east. The lighted rectangle is ... well, a rectangular light, behind me.

This is looking toward the east also, as the storms moved away from us. Those clouds are close to, or over, Ohio, which I believe also had a tornado warning. We were paying more attention at the time to the tornado cutting a swath through LaGrange County. There wasn't much warning, because the storm basically formed and dropped its funnels right over us. The damage was largely in the Ligonier area, northwest of Albion. It could have been worse: Many funnels that didn't reach the ground were also spotted.

 It's a little hard to see, but that's a large flock of birds that took off shortly after the storm passed. Maybe headed south, or maybe "anywhere but here".

And a final photo of the courthouse as the clouds clear, with the birds above. I've noticed that building has "moods" based on the lighting conditions, and this time around it was kind of spooky.

From what I'm hearing at this point it sounds like two tornadoes actually touched down, one in Noble County and one that caused damage all the way through LaGrange County. In Noble County some buildings were damaged, including a residence that lost its roof. The Ligonier area lost power, and we had to call out firefighters and the Noble County Highway Department to clear trees from roadways. Stop lights were out, power lines down--the usual.

For awhile we had six dispatchers in here, where normally we'd have two or three. All the emergency services were pretty busy, as you might imagine, and we stayed busy for awhile. Still, we had no reported injuries here in Noble, so there's that--but two people were injured in LaGrange County when the Amish buggy they were in was hit. (No, I haven't heard anything about the horse's condition.) This weekend the hurricane is reaching us, but only with gusty winds and some rain.

We and our books can be found ... everywhere:

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Remember: If you have enough books, they can cushion you from strong winds.

[chrysanthemumpink]

I've never talk and it here. But I have spent over 300 dollars in helium. I had made peace with everyone and ready to leave everything behind. The campus police texted me and said...I could step out quietly or they'd come and get me...not so quietly. It's been over a year, and I still don't know how they knew or who called them.

But I was arrested...I guess. They took me too a hospital. I didnt leave for 4 months. During the first month, I didn't even know where I was. That's the thing about chronic suicidal ideation. Sometimes, you genuinely lose touch would reality. I could barely read when the police took me to the hospital.

By time I got out, it was too late. My PhD program had dropped me. And it was becoming increasingly clear that I didn't belong anyway. I hated it at the time, but my dad said an English PhD was useless back in 2017...when I was still 20..stupid and no master's. So I got the computer science degree like he said.

Now I have no idea what I do for a living. But its a job and has something to do with coding. Doesn't matter, I'm. Very good at making up a job and filling it. Every now and then, a scholar will messages me on LinkedIn. They like my work, the work I was actually passionate about. I send it to them so they don't have to pay the journals for it. In January I go back to grad school, a doctorate in Instructional Design and medical technology. I can't go back to the humanities. The last day I was there, I left in handcuffs

My dad said, "that's my girl. Never one to stay down for long."

Maybe I'm ignoring the real problem by focusing on a different problem. But maybe that explains why it's so hard to leave him. I like diluting things like this. Making them relationship problema instead of existentialism ones. I've given up my dreams. My dreams have given up on me. My current program is online. The last time I was ever on a college campus, I was handcuffed and locked in a ward for 4 months. But him, I met him when I still had hope. He was the only person who wasn't immediate family to actually visit and notice that I was randomly arrested. And most of all, he's the only thing that made me believe that the last 7 year of my life wernt a waste.

I met him when I was getting an English PhD. Now that I've lost every thing, he's the Only thing that remains. And he's already done what I can't. He's finished a program. But more importantly, if I marry him I can justify the mistake I made.

A Ring would make it all worth it. But I sense the resentment. A medical tech doctorate will make more than a humanities one. My grad stipend alone already rivales his contracted salary. But I still have at least 4 years. And he has no idea how much i need him or how I'm only 27 and can only secure 3-6 month contract positions...while he gets year long contracts and has a chance at tenure.

I don't know what to do but whenever I'm at my worse, he's always there. if I let him go, I'll have no one. But even worse, Ill have nothing to justify the years I spent chasing a dream. In all honesty, im tired. If he wants me to stay home and help him with his work... I'd be fine with that. I'm not as strong as he thinks I am.

[sandzlib]

I really need to let some shit out of my system and rant a bit but I have nowhere to do so because all the people I know are in my other socials and they would see it and I don't really want that so this is my only safe place...

I'm getting married this year after it was all postponed due to the pandemic

But I live in a different country than my own — I'm an expat as they call us — so all the wedding preparations are being a pain in the arse

I'm basically organising a wedding on one country while living in another and only being able to go to the former on specific dates to put the final touches...

With that in mind, we went back to our country during the Christmas holidays for way longer than just the holidays so we could get everything done.

This is where the shit starts:

We were supposed to receive the invitations before Christmas, that way we could hand them to the family during the different festivities BUT

They didn't arrive until the 30th of December

Since we were doing the envelopes with sealing wax and everything ourselves, I spent half of the 31st and the whole 1st day of the year doing DIY shit

Our flight back was on the 2nd so we obviously couldn't hand the invitations to anyone and did what made more sense: rely on our parents handing the ones for the family and send the rest through post.

Well, my mum tried to meet up with her sisters (my aunts that supposedly love me and all that...) so she could give them the invitations but she was met with refusal to try and organise a day when they could all meet

The excuse was that they rarely go into the city (they live on the outskirts, like 20km away from the city centre)

And not only that's a lie since we know they go to the city centre at least once a week

But also my mum was careful enough to ask for a day they *could* meet, a day that was good for them.

Anyways, three of them said that they couldn't find a moment so they asked her to send the invitations through post, and only one actually agreed on a date.

And this is the part that pisses me off the most and had me crying out of pure rage and disbelief.

The aunt that actually went for the invitation told my mum that one of my other aunts was saying that I had surely managed to hand the invitations to my dad's side of the family as well as to my SO's family.

That it was only them that I was not wanting to meet

and that since I was doing that, she's not coming to my wedding

because she's not going to go to a wedding she is not welcomed at.

What the F***ING F***!

I have never done anything *in my whole life* that could lead them to believe I would do something like that.

They all know that I don't get along with my dad's side of the family because my grandma is a bitch an awful person that has mistreated me my whole life (in fact, I almost didn't invite them at all but finally did just because of my dad) so it makes no sense she could think something like that.

They're the ones who are always bickering and keeping secrets and shit from each other, not me! Like one of my cousins lived for four months in the country I am currently at and neither she nor my aunt told me about it, I found out because of fricking LinkedIn!

I'm the fucking nicest niece they have! I always greet them for their birthdays, Christmas, New Year... Even when sometimes they don't answer back. I am always available when they need me. I've tried countless times to meet with them when I go back home... Fuck! I spent a whole day talking with that same aunt that's dissing me now and her son about different exams he could take to certify his English level as well as courses he could do to practice before taking the exam (something that's out of my area of expertise yet I found the time to search for the information)!

What's most frustrating about this is that my mum told me to do nothing, say nothing, ignore them.

My SO said more or less the same thing and then the conversation turned into why are we even doing a wedding in the first place when I don't want half of my family there and the other half seems like they won't come because they rather think I'm a shitty person than accept that I couldn't give them the invitations earlier.

Note that all of this happened right after I tried to meet with some friends to hand them the invitations (at the time I thought they would arrive on time) and none of them made the slightest effort to meet with me...

I also only have a handful of friends, those 5 girls that couldn't be bothered to meet with me, two more that are actually excited about this, and then a few guys that are shared friends with my SO's...

So I feel lonely, disappointed, hurt... I feel like an idiot because I always try to treat other the way I'd like them to treat me and somehow all I get back is this kind of shit behaviour...

And yet, everyone around me seems to think I'm reading too much into this and that I shouldn't make such a big deal out of it.

Agh!

[cancerbiophd]

Hi Julia! I will be graduating from grad school next summer and I've been accepted to a R&D position in the pharmaceutical industry, which was my dream so I'm very excited! As someone who also made the transition from academia to industry, do you have any tips or advice on how to handle the different expectations? Thank you!

Hello Rose! Congratulations!! That’s so wonderful to hear. You’ve worked hard for this!

I’m very much still in the process of learning to navigate the transition myself but I will tell you all that I’ve learned so far. I’ve found that grad school has actually prepared me quite well for industry because of all the translatable skills I picked up (and even from college and other life experiences). So if you find this list is filled with some familiar things, then that’s a very good sign!

Have a method to deal with feeling overwhelmed. Going from academia to industry can feel like moving from a small rural town where you knew everybody to a big bustling loud crowded city. Oftentimes it will be sensory and information overload, and it’s easy to feel anxious most of the time. It’s best to have in your emotional tool-kit a few plans on how to navigate challenges like figuring out unfamiliar protocols and tasks, what to do if you make a mistake, how to decompress after an anxiety-inducing phone call or presentation, etc. 

I recommend not forming any emotional attachment to your projects, because unlike grad school where we worked on basically one big thing for many years, projects can come and go very quickly and seemingly unexpectedly in industry. And most of the time these decisions are not 100% up to us in R&D, but the business side of things, because if a project isn’t meeting a company goal (whether financial or otherwise), it’ll be put on hold or cut. (But that’s not to say R&D doesn’t have input, but we don’t often get the last say). 

Know your go-to person or persons for questions, from your manager and fellow coworkers for project-related questions to contacts in IT, HR, etc. And be protective of your right to ask questions and receive answers. This is part of your job, and this is part of their job as well. Everything that comes out of your department is a team-effort, after all. And time is money (and company goals fulfilled)--always remember that. And that includes your time as well, so taking 5 min to ask a question and getting a straight-forward answer is much better than spending 5 hours confused and doing something wrong! Not a day goes by where I don’t ask a bunch of questions (and most of them are: what does this abbreviation stand for? Because in industry, apparently if it can be abbreviated, it will be.)

Set clear expectations and goals with your manager, and check in with them regularly. Project goals are much more concrete and common in industry where project timelines (sometimes set by the business side) guide every decision, vs academia where decisions can be more experimental and free-flowing. Finding out your pace in this timeline and delivering what your manager expects is a two-way street where communication is key. Whenever I get a new project, I like to tell my manager “let’s touch base on my progress tomorrow” so we can a) catch any of my mistakes early, b) estimate when I’ll be done/ready for the next step, and based on that, c) see if we need to have more help. 

Follow what your fellow coworkers do in terms of small workplace-culture-things, like email etiquette (eg. reply to one vs reply all), when to start and end each work-day, how to respond to manager requests (my team likes each of us to reply with “ok will do!”), the best way to communicate (we prefer instant messaging via slack), etc.

Stay organized and prepared. Time is money in industry, and staying organized and on top of things saves time (and thus money). I’ve also found that it’s always better (and expected) to be able to provide an immediate answer to questions during meetings, rather than “I’ll get back to you” (unless it really is something that’ll take a while to figure out). So have your notes ready and well-organized. 

Related, document everything, or at least know the reason behind your decisions. Mostly because you may be working in a very large and interdisciplinary team (think sales, operations, marketing, etc) and they may not have the science-know-how to understand some R&D choices. Also higher-ups may not be able to remember every minute detail of a project, so it’s good to have all that on hand. The other day my manager actually asked me to remind her of the decisions we made during a meeting on one of her projects. Good thing I had taken notes!

Take the opportunity to learn who everyone is and what they do at the company that you meet. Company directories and LinkedIn profiles are great for this. 

Pay attention to the paperwork. Companies run on rules and regulations and contracts and legal this and that. Our choices can have more consequences now than when we were in school. I usually like to get 2nd and 3rd opinions on things (either from coworkers or from a more experienced friend or family member) that I’m not 100% sure on. 

Be prepared to have more trust placed in you and your decisions. Not really a huge piece of advice, but more like, hey, head’s up! Because one thing that was jarring for me as someone coming straight from grad school where our self-esteem was repeatedly pummeled down was how much more respected I am now. My feedback and project decisions are actually welcomed, trusted, and acted upon. This is in part to my degree, my experience, and the culture of my team, but wow, I haven’t felt this valued in such long time. 

Related to that last point, professionalism counts more now. Academia offers a bit more freedom in terms of how an individual dresses and acts, but company environments put more emphasis and expectations in those things (especially for customer/client-facing positions). Depending on your company, you may have a dress-code and be held to a certain level of professional etiquette. 

And lastly, take it slow, and trust that effort will never betray you. The learning curve can also be pretty steep--my coworker tells me that it’s at least 6 months for my position. I like to finish each work day by reflecting on something I now know that I didn’t when I woke up that morning--it really helps keep my self-esteem up and the feelings of imposter syndrome down. 

That’s all I got for now! My inbox and chat are always open if you have any other follow-up questions. Congrats again on graduating and your new position!! 

[queerandhavingmorefunthanyou]

(1/2) tw// self-harm, eating disorders Hey Kate. So I've had a kind of shitty week. I just got back to school on Tuesday, and basically the one class I was excited for was chorus. The teacher is amazing and I love to sing, but now I'm not doing it. Last year was, rough, to say the least. I started the year exhausted and full of self loathing. I was extremely stressed and questioning everything. Around December I started cutting and stopped eating as much.

I'm sure none of my friends caught on, but I think maybe the chorus teacher noticed because he started tying in messages to the songs we were singing. Like, we did Take Me Home and he talked about how home isn't always your house, it was where you felt safe and loved. He told us how he wanted chorus to feel like a home for all of us, because we were all loved there. And shit, that was important. I never felt as accepted as I did when I was there. I was having it drilled into my head every day that I was important and that I was loved. And over time I actually started to improve a lot. I haven't cut since June, and I've been eating semi-regularly. But the teacher moved school districts and I have no idea how I'm going to survive this year. Like, yeah I improved, but I'm scared I'll go back to where I was before. Idk, I might be being irrational, but I wish he stayed. Sorry for the long ask. -🌸🌈

no worries for the long ask, i apologize for my very late reply! it sounds like you had a very close and important relationship with this teacher, and just because he switched districts doesn’t mean that that relationship is through. i think it’s worth finding him online, maybe facebook or linkedin, and reaching out. i bet he won’t mind and will be a gracious friend. there’s no reason why you shouldn’t stay in touch! be safe and best of luck this year <3