Well, I didn't make it out for that biking jaunt mentioned earlier this week but this morning Akhil kicked my butt with a long, 2 and a half hour ride from our place to Griffith Park, where I survived Garbage Hill. And Akhil gloated about his new "PR" (that's obsessive, competitive, crazy man-speak for 'personal record.')

Home-buying makes you fickle. I swear, I have fallen in and out of passionate love about ten times so far and each time it feels like the last house on earth. I don't know how people do this. We're getting serious now, even have an agent. After our bike ride today we had brunch at Cafe Verde, again, in Pasadena. I almost don't want anyone else to know how great this tiny little place on Green Street is, but it's just such a find. This time I had the eggs florentine, and Akhil reverted to the vanilla french toast. The place seats maybe 20 people so it can get a little crunched in there, but that' s the only drawback, other than the fact that it's closed on Sundays. I also got a letter from my long-lost wonderful friend Ulrika, who lives in Barcelona. I met her in France during our year studying there and haven't heard from her in a couple of years - long enough for her to become a mom! Her letter came with photos of her stunning little blond one-year-old, Alba. I am freaked out and delighted at the same time. We're real people all of a sudden.