Since Friday a lot has happened. For one thing, we determined that we're sick of living in Glendale and that as our real estate "project" progresses, we are less and less interested in looking here for prospective homes. Second, we joined the Bush-hating throngs last night and saw "Fahrenheit 9/11" - my former neighbor's latest blockbuster documentary - first documentary in history to become the weekend's top-grossing film. It wasn't quite as, well, relentless, than the hype made it out to be, but still typical Michael Moore of course. Amusing, tear-jerking, somewhat over-the-top but he drives his point home and helps you continue to build your Bush-wacking arsenal -- at least a little bit -- with plenty of bad Bush footage and images that remind you of the reality of the Iraq war and force you to look at the situation from an outsider's perspective. It sort of felt like the audience was way too in on all the jokes though. "Preaching to the choir" blah blah blah. I wonder if any Republicans were in attendance. (I'm an Independent, offically, like Mike!)

A year ago today, Sunday, in Malibu, Akhil and I got married. Our official anniversary is Tuesday the 29th but we had a semi-celebration today of our up-and-down-but-magical first year of wedded bliss. We had brunch in Santa Monica at Babalu followed by a couple of hours sitting and reading on the beach in Malibu. We found a spot just in front of the bird sanctuary by the Adamson House - which is where we tied the knot. Here we are in Malibu... disheveled but content:



After our miniature celebration we stopped at the Supergo to look at bicycle parts. And we had a stellar star-sighting -- Jakob Dylan, son of Bob, and family - buying a pricey green fat-tired bike for one of his three sons. There was no mistaking the blue-eyed stare (could he have recognized that he'd been recognized?) but the dead giveaway, really, was the diamond tennis bracelet his wife was wearing with her Seven jeans, low-top Converse, and "FBI" cap. You know they're celebrities when...

We spent the rest of the afternoon looking at 600-thousand-dollar-plus homes in Pasadena, Cheviot Hills, Toluca Lake and Burbank, yes Burbank. Nothing exists for less than six. Not even there. At least you can count on appreciation... (right?)