On Stolen Bikes and How Awesome People Respond

Since my bike’s been stolen, I’ve been spending a lot of time moping.

When I'm sad, I cuddle with a rat.

When I’m sad, I cuddle with a rat.

It’s okay, I have permission to do so. In fact, my project manager (who also happens to be Sue) instructed me to do so. It’s true. She wrote it on the weekly blue sticky note of tasks. “Time to mourn and regroup.”

But I need to bounce back. I’m doing a ride next year for Be the Match, for heaven’s sake. These setbacks cannot get in the way!

I went to my parents’ house and rustled around in the garage to find any bikes that might be lurking in there. I found an old Novara that needs some work, and I figured that it’d be great to put some of my newly learned bike maintenance skills to work. So I tossed it into the back of my car. When I got home my neighbor brought out a bike that’s been hanging around his backyard for twenty years. Underneath all the dust you can see that it’s a Peugeot. He said I can fix it up and then decide if I’d like to buy it from him. So I’m thankful for these distractions. I started to think that I could be one of those people with a garage full of old bikes, none of them fancy or expensive, but each with its own personality, its own story, and some of my own handiwork. I like that idea. Today I put a couple hours into the Novara and hope to be riding it tomorrow.

But of course I still want my Surly back. Continue reading


On Stolen Bikes and Poop Sandwiches

Some idiot poop-sandwich-eater ran off with my bike yesterday afternoon.

I don’t think very highly of this guy.

My friends Kat and Hai-Yue and I had an incredible ride from Mountain View to San Francisco yesterday. We decided to visit the Exploratorium, even though we only had about an hour until it closed.

We locked up our bikes. I took off the easy-to-steal items, my light and bike pump, and put them in my shoulder bag along with my wallet, keys, and phone.

And when we came back an hour later my bike was gone. Continue reading

Coastal Trip Day 7: Lompoc to Santa Barbara (but really Carpinteria)

Day 7. Could it really be Day 7 already? Our last day?

The Chinese character for 7 is not as exciting as the one for 6.

The Chinese character for 7 is not as exciting as the one for 6.

I was so sad that our trip was coming to an end. Erik had predicted that by the end of the trip we would be debating continuing on to Los Angeles. I was all for it! Unfortunately, things like “work” and “money” kept us from being too impulsive. Continue reading

Coastal Trip Day 6: Pismo Beach to Lompoc



Everybody dance! Or at least do a jumping jack. Six is here!

Everybody dance! Or at least do a jumping jack. Six is here!

I’m half Chinese. I don’t speak Chinese, I don’t read it, I don’t understand it. I know more Thai words than I do Chinese, which slightly irks certain members of my family. But thanks to playing Mahjong, I am at least familiar with the Chinese characters for numbers one through nine. And as my sister said when trying to teach the numbers to her son Logan, the Chinese character for six looks the way it sounds. You know, six!! It’s an exciting word, it deserves a little dance! Cortney and I struck the six! pose at the beginning of Day Six. Sue was less enthused. Continue reading

Coastal Trip Day 5: San Simeon to Pismo Beach

On the morning of Day 5, we woke up in San Simeon thinking about breakfast. Real, hot breakfast, with eggs and toast and hashbrowns and bacon and pancakes. However, there weren’t any great breakfast options in our immediate vicinity, so we did what we always do: we got on our bikes.

Let's go find breakfast!

Let’s go find breakfast!

About six foggy miles later we were in the cute, sleepy town of Cambria. We wandered down Main Street until we found the local breakfast joint, where we burst in on the quiet scene with our neon windbreakers and sniffly noses to bask in the warmth of steaming mugs of coffee. Continue reading