Me, on phone to sister #3 in Baltimore: “Remember that bike you had as a bike messenger in Portland?”
her: “yeah.”
me: “It got stolen last night.”
We both laugh.
her: “They were doing you a favor!”
me: “I know! It’s burning man time- all the junkers get stolen and resold.”
her: “It’s not even worth $5!”
me: “Can you imagine that on the dessert? The gears drop out, it’s like 20 pounds, and with sand in in… ugh.”
her: “They saved you from lugging it out of your garage!”

And on the burning man note- N Judah Chronicles has a hilarious t-shirt for sale. Yes, I am a Playa Hatah. The best burning man was squatting in my friends apartment watching cable for 3 days with my other hatah friends. Howzah!

Fond memories of my first posts to SF Metblogs- on the traumatic event of my valuable bike being stolen.