What did I learn in my motorcycle safety class this past weekend? Ironically, that riding a motorcycle is damn dangerous. On somewhat of a whim, I signed up for a class with Northern California Motorcycle Training (which, as an aside, is impossible to find on Google) just to see what motorcycle riding is like. We had 4 hours of classroom time (picture the worst of driver's ed -- stupid videos, a dumb book, and a ridiculously easy test -- compressed into 4 hours) and around 10 hours of riding time. I will admit that it was very fun, but I don't think I'll buy a bike. (At least not until I'm 50 and having a full-blown mid-life crisis.) I'll probably get the license anyway just because I can, but as I've been telling people, the danger : fun ratio of riding a motorcycle is much too high for me. Add in the expense of buying a bike, safety equipment, and insurance, and you've got an equation for a pricey, purely recreational hobby that might kill you. Much like macramé.

Saturday night I went with Buddy and Jess to a celebration for Climbing For a Cure's recent Everest summit. Rob Chang (whom I finally got a meet in person) gave a great talk about this climb as well as other climbs he's done in his career. I also got a chance to speak to his mother again ("Hi, do you remember me? We met in a dim sum restaurant...") While I was there, I bid on (and won! Just got the e-mail) a really nice tanka that was done by a monk in a Nepalese refugee camp. I was also able to buy some tibetan prayer flags which I'm going to put up in my apartment.

Sunday evening Babs, Domi, and I took Florence to her first-ever concert! It was Hot Hot Heat at the legendary Fillmore. Opening for them were World Leader Pretend (who we unfortunately mostly missed due to my poor, poor sense of direction) and Eisley, a rocked-up girly(er) version of Hanson. Or something. After two whole hours (!), Hot Hot Heat finally took the stage and totally rocked the place. The floors were literally shaking from the crowd jumping around -- it was awesome. Congrats to Florence on her initiation into the cult of pot-filled air, sweaty people, and ringing ears.

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