Congratulations to....... ME. Starting tomorrow, I have a new 7-4 schedule. And I'll be crash coursing in all things technological for my new editing gig with an online business and tech news publisher out in Encino - another new neighborhood for me. I drove there today mid-morning and it only took 20 minutes. That alone is life-changing! After five years of bumper-to-bumper, multiple freeway, 1-2 hour commutes, this could be the sign of a new era. I have to bid a fond farewell to my loyal friends over the last six months -- Oprah, Regis, and Dr. Phil.

Meanwhile Akhil and I have been nursing a grudge against the real estate market and looking beyond the box to see what other options may be out there for us. The journey continues.

May this help you all to understand:

41 offers, seven of which were more than $100,000 over asking, for a 2-bedroom 1923 house, and the agent expects bids over $700k. They're taking counters for those seven contenders, with no contingencies. None. Ha hahhhhahh ha ha. HA HAHHHHHHHH Ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaah ha. Go ahead laugh. Or you'll cry. I'm just a little bit numb.

History's in the making: we submitted our first-ever offer on a house today. As did at least seven other bidders...

At least we're in the game! Keep your fingers crossed.

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.

I'm trying to muster some energy for a bicycling jaunt after our 'big night out' on Tuesday -- dinner on Vermont Ave. at Il Capriccio was a lot of fun and the food was great, as was our waiter, who could pull tablecloths off without disturbing the salt shakers. Very impressive. We met up with Akhil's friend Elliott, creator of the infamous "The Roomba," and his girlfriend Zoe, a British screenwriting hopeful who was quirkily charming. We talked about the 'silliness' of Los Angeles, the fact that no one walks here - for real - and the similarities between Nebraska and rural England - both exotic to Akhil and me, who grew up on opposite coasts. Did anybody know there's this place called Lake Piru 70 miles north of Los Angeles where you can take wake-boarding lessons? Who knew! Leave it to the newcomers to figure that out.

A whole new world was opened up to us yesterday as we expanded our home-hunting horizons to -- yes, the Valley! All afternoon Akhil couldn't help himself from speaking in that 80s Valley accent so I am not sure we should live there, however, it turns out there really are nice-looking, non-delapidated, four-bedroom homes there that we could even, like, afford, maybe. Hard to take those boulevards though. They are such ecological, aesthetic and sociological disasters. It's so weird how the L.A. area is set up with these gigantic boulevards hiding what they call residential "pockets" between them. And when you get inside these pockets, they could be New England, or someplace in the midwest, like Michigan. It's the most bizarre phenomenon. Food for thought if nothing else.

This was after discovering the mysterious city of Alhambra on Friday night (which is only say 5 miles from our apartment), where we ate Vietnamese food (and were the only two non-Vietnamese people in the Golden Deli - now that's good stuff), and then made our first-ever trip to Fosselman's for white chocolate chip ice cream. I thought the place was quaint and the ice cream was ok - but still not as good as others I can remember, like J.P. Licks. Side note - the system of checks and balances appears to be working -- I was denied unemployment! Victory for the State of California's EDD! (Bastards.)

Holy heat wave! This is excruciating - and since it's the first time I've ever spent one of these hanging mostly at home in our very slightly A/C'd apartment here in the San Gabriel Valley, I realize how bad it really is when it's in the 100s over here. All other years I've been out on the west side, working in a nice, cold office space. They say on Tuesday we scored the highest power usage numbers in the city's history and Wednesday was a close second. Probably because of all the other unemployed folks who are home, cranking the A/C, the fans, the stereo and the computer system all at the same time. Praying for rain...

Once in a while this happens: you go through some period of disillusionment and discontent, when nothing can get you out of your bad mood, only to emerge all of a sudden, almost out of the blue one day feeling like you've just graduated from something. This weekend I had that feeling, on Saturday afternoon, even though it was 105 degrees out and we started the day talking about real estate. We'd had a great dinner with friends Friday night and maybe it had something to do with the conversation there, or, maybe it was the realization that I have the freedom, even now, to turn down a job I don't really want. I don't know, but the weekend was great. I still don't know what the hell we're doing with our lives, but I'm not unhappy about it!

On Saturday, our impromptu brunch with Tony & Angel included excellent french vanilla french toast and french press coffee at Cafe Verde in Pasadena. Afterwards, in keeping with Saturday's French-ish theme, we saw 'Before Sunset.' (Loved the ending.) Sunday was a day of work and housekeeping and grilled salmon that I made with sesame seeds and dijon mustard. Monday we spent the day strolling around in Santa Barbara.

As the venue for our engagement as well as our mini-honeymoon, Santa Barbara's still among my favorite places, but has anyone else noticed lately that it's starting to feel a little like Venice? Lots of "unpleasant" fragrances, transients, unkempt streets and sidewalks and almost absolutely no parking. That's new. Are they trying to get rid of us all of a sudden? They put up these 75-minute parking signs all over and we must've seen one parking enforcement vehicle per 10 tourists - plus at least 3 cars and 1 motorcycle getting pulled over on State Street and at least one car getting towed away. Also noticed some rapidly deteriorating restaurant service. For the first time we left Pacific Crepes because of the foul mood of the waitress. I'm sure we'll try again -- and soon. Can't give up on the creperie that easily - no!