no sidebar today.
still too lazy. maybe next time.

mmm custom leather.
So, while I was back in Wisconsin, I was idly complaining to my mom about how my knees were always bruised from my pants' armor, since they don't quite fit. Being the incredibly cool mom that she is (and, perhaps, still a little loopy from her recent surgery), she offered to help me pay for some custom leathers.

I'd been sort of waffling about this for the past week, since custom leathers aren't cheap, and I already have a full set of gear. I'd feel incredibly guilty spending so much of my mom's money on something I didn't actually need, per se. So, I've been talking with some friends and coworkers about their opinions, and trying to decide whether a full one-piece custom leather suit is a little overkill for my mainly-under-50-miles-at-a-time current riding patterns.

I was having this exact conversation with Peter in the car yesterday. It went something like:

idle chit chat about leathers and money and etc

P: Wow! Lookit that!

We look over to see a woman on a CBR pull up to the light in the right-hand lane.
She is wearing a form-fitting Dainese one-piece suit, which, ahem, illustrates her assets.

C: Yeah, see, that's what I need. That suit looks great on her. Look at her butt!

P: doing just that. Umm hmmm.

C: Though, of course, my butt looks just as good in my leather pants, doesn't it?

P: ....

C: Hey! Are you saying her butt looks better in those pants than mine does in mine? It's because my pants don't fit right, isn't it? I need better fitting pants now. Oh god. I knew it.

P: ....

C: You hate my butt.

P: wondering how to push me out of the car and make it look like an accident. Shouldn't you just be happy that there's another woman rider?

C: I'm thrilled, as long as my butt looks at least as good as hers!

Peter's brain: How, exactly, did I end up in this conversation?

The outcome of this conversation (other than Peter having to spend most of the afternoon reassuring me about my posterior) is that now, of course, I desperately need a custom one-piece form-fitting leather suit. Frugality and practicality aside, I'm still a girl, dammit. ;)

can't we all just get along?
I've been pretty impressed so far that the media hasn't jumped all over the violence at the Laughlin River Run. There doesn't seem to be any indication that there will be any sort of major backlash against motorcyclists in the eyes of the bourgeois, which is nice, but somewhat ironic. What does it say about the state of the world when, in 1947, public drunkenness caused America to recoil in a collective horror at this group of lowlife....but yet in 2002, three people are shot to death in a casino, and no one bats an eye?

The most unfortunate consequence of this event for me is that my fellow sportsbikers rarely need any extra ammunition to jump all over Harley riders. A lot of the message boards that I read, while usually relatively tame, have had comments along the lines of "those asshole Harley riders" and the like. That's really frustrating to read. I agree that I've seen quite a few Harley riders who dress the part and would sooner sneer at me than wave...but I've also seen plenty of sportsbikers dressed up like Mighty Morphin Power Rangers who buzz me in my lane at 60mph going up Highway 9. Both are annoying. I guess people just like to compartmentalize everything, to feel like it's always "us versus them". *shrug* I'll be the little motorcycle hippie and hand out flowers and say, honestly, that I wave at everyone (or do the little Chicken Dance Head Wobble thing if I can't take my hand off the clutch right then).

maybe it'll help the hit count.
Hrm, this entry wasn't really intentionally about sex and violence. I'll wait for the unsubscriptions to roll in. ;)