Archive for the ‘Los Angeles’ Category

Sunday, January 18th, 2009

I had a very long, very real dream that involved living in Malibu, me running in running shoes, sweatpants, t-shir, baseball cap and running into a plethora of celebrities as I make my way home. I know, how can that be realistic? Me, in sweatpants and a baseball cap running?

The strange thing about the celebrities were that they were mostly TV actors – I do not have a TV, I have never had a TV and I have never worked on TV. So how Brad Garret got into my dream, I’ll never know (mind you he was just running down the hill with his dogs on his cell phone. We didn’t really chat).

But before I was to cross the PHC highway to go up the hill to my place, my name was called. I whirl around and there is Suzanne Somers with her 3 young children and her mother, Connie Stevens.

“Why Miss Alex! Come and say hi!”

“Hi Miss Somers what a nice surprise to see you out here.”

We hug. She’s bundled up because it’s winter and we’re on a rocky beach. So I fix her scarf and she hands me her cup of hot milk. We talk real estate. I point to the direction I’m in and how I love it here. How I felt so judged in Kirkland but out here was a breath of fresh air.

“I don’t know how you lasted so long!”

Then she introduces me to her mother and I say we met last weekend at the picnic. The one Marcia Cross hosted (in fairness, I do see her around town all the time and her hair dresser is a good friend). Oh right, says Connie, all cute in pigtails.

As we’re talking we see a couple of celebrities whiz by in the back of a pick up. We say how it’s changing here and how they’re building mansions into the rock cliff. But that for the next few years it should stay the same and that’s good for now.

I then wake up into reality.

I do my morning routine, then I check my email and there’s an email from a place I’ve never visitied online or on TV – HSN.com.

Coincidence? I think not.

Saturday, September 9th, 2006

Map of where I live - Santa Monica

Things I love about living in Santa Monica/Los Angeles:
- living 6 blocks from the beach.
- Never having to use my car because I can walk to Whole Foods, a favourite cafe, the post, shopping, the beach, the bank
- having California near the top of those pull down address menus
- Not needing air conditioning
- The weather (72F most days with cool nights)
- Luke Wilson
- access to anything and everything
- a little fancy
- free premieres and screenings
- Anthropologie
- My BFF & hairdress extraordinnaire, Jessica T @ Frederric Fekkai
- Diversity
- Disneyland
- a little glamour
- Easy flight access to anywhere in the world at any time.
- living two turns and one road and twenty minutes on a good day from the airport
- Cafe Dana on Montana @ 13th
- Elixir on Melrose
- Spanish Latte’s from Urth
- Maki at Ole Henriksen
- Driving up the coast to Malibu or Santa Barbara
- Colours everywhere
- Driving San Vicente in Santa Monica from 7th until 26th
- Montana Ave {especially Shabby Chic’s first store and their sales}
- Palm Trees
- access to healthy eating {important to a gluten-free girl}
- Squirrels that terrorise me in my flat
- Saying that I live in LA

Things I do not love about Santa Monica/Los Angeles:
- the people
- constant horn honking
- cell phone drivers
- selfish, superficial souls who always have an agenda
- the barista at Starbucks and every othe place being a frustrated actor
- traffic
- smog/air quality (Air quality is measured on a scale of 0-100, 0 being the worst. Los Angeles is a 0)
- weird black film on everything in my flat from the air
- relationships always being businessy
- crazy high rent even in a rent controlled flat
- cost of living
- cost of doing anything
- everyone “on” and trying to “be”
- Noise. So. Much. Noise.
- Living right over a back alley and hearing people go through the rubbish 24/7
- The stupid girl voice.
- Small dogs everywhere
- Neighbours all over you (I live in one of the most dense 15 blocks in the US)
- Street parking
- Valet parking
- Brentwood Whole Foods; always crazy, insane because of terribly self-absorbed “Brentwood” people
- “glue gun” fancy
- having to either keep secret about who you know or what you do or having to be all about it
- insincerity
- not being able to rely on anything or anyone
- the beach
- Hollywood
- the fact that a size 2 is huge and pale is sickly
- squirrels that terrorise me in my flat
- saying I live in LA

Sunday, January 22nd, 2006

One of the best blogs I’ve read in a really, really long time. Her take on L.A. is especially comforting:

You don’t so much live in Los Angeles as cohabitate. And you fight sometimes, and then you make up, and sometimes you really REALLY want to leave each other. Or cheat on each other. Then you cry in your vodka martini and say, Baby, I’ll never leave you. It’s very codependant.

Thursday, November 17th, 2005

Santa Barbara

Driving down Wilshire, horns honking continuously from Mercedes cars with cell phone drivers. Negotiating six lanes of traffic like you’re sipping coffee. Getting your hair done with Charlize, your hair dresser is your friend and your facialist is on speed dial. Lunching with Jennifer, giving Tori Amos advice at the grocer, getting advice from Ellen on not waiting for anything, running into Orlando so much he starts to say hi. Stepping out of the building on Rodeo late at night to jam packed streets and 70F weather while wondering what you bought that sweater for. Flip flops on the beach, expensive health drinks from Fred Segal and always carrying bottled water that costs $2.

Feeling comfortable because wearing skirts all the time doesn’t make you stand out but realising you kind of do because you don’t have “the look.” Having credentials not matter so much as who you know and being thankful you know a lot of people but also bothered that you do. Knowing that you can plan for that party outside in a month because the sun will shine and when it does nothing beats driving up the coast no matter how many times you’ve done it before. 3AM becomes the favourite time because the homeless don’t go through your trash and the streets are finally quiet though early mornings seem strange because the lean, tan and beautiful are all running like it doesn’t hurt.

Being on set just to sing a song and being treated like a rock star – only to feel bad about it all when they bring you something you could have gotten yourself. Eating dinner in Melrose with the star of Melrose Place and recognising Mr. Sheffield even though you’ve never seen the Nanny. Private screenings, the need for several party dresses, and learning how to small talk with just about everyone only to feel like you need a shower when you get home.

Spending far too much on a tiny flat like everyone else and not being able to afford much for it inside like everyone else. A new kind of poor is happening in one of the poshest neighbourhoods. Seeing how $600,000 buys just an ok one bedroom flat and that $7,000 can buy a purse.

Everyone assuming you belong because you just happen to be at the party or can hold your own with the waiter or the millionaire but knowing that even though sometimes it’s fun, this isn’t home. For every day is the same, the people fast talk, connections are lost, everyone’s nice to everyone but no one trusts a soul. And the scariest thing seems to be starting to accept the surrealness of it all and not blinking twice that Kinkos has valet.

Tuesday, September 27th, 2005

Fancy Girls

On Tuesday afternoon she arrived in simple jeans, t-shirt and flip flops and I with tired eyes and a drained personality. Little did we’d know that this trip would change us both enormously.

The first order of business after leaving the airport was to fuel ourselves at Whole Foods for lunch before hitting the Pacific Coast Highway for our two nights in Santa Barbara. After with drinks and snacks in tow, it was time to roll the windows down, crank the music and begin out week long chats and laughing as we cruised alongside the ocean for the next couple of hours.

Arriving at the wonderful Hotel Andulucia just before dinner, we had only a few minutes to quickly change and prepare for what was supposed to be a tour of the farmers market with the Chef of 31 West. Truthfully, though, we weren’t in the mood to meet with him for driving, sunshine and too much time apart had us far too giggly for public interaction. Luckily it turned out that the Chef was too busy for us which gave us time for something much more important – Emily’s first trip to Anthropologie.

There I was her personal shopper; picking out clothes upon clothes that had her modeling for hours. I pushed her out of her comfort zone (something she wanted) and showed her that a skirt can be just as relaxed as pants. By the time the store closed, she agreed, carrying her pretty Anthro bag with ease and a new addiction.

After all that work we were ready for our dinner at 31 West. Wine, good food and conversation though truthfully we ended up being tired, wanting to really go back to the room, slip on our robes and watch cable – something that had become a guilty pleasure to both of us since we had both forgone cable for so long. But rest in comfy duvets was what we needed; the day had been long and the next morning we’d be up early for a good cause – a wine tour through the Santa Ynez Valley.

(more…)

Sunday, April 10th, 2005

Tonight was my first big Hollywood event; a dress was bought, heels went on and a little lipgloss was swiped. After being terribly sick for the past week and inside on the couch for most of it, getting a chance to go out was welcomed.

And although I’d been to the Beverly Hills Hotel on several occasions (their soda fountain restaurant has the best burger in town, I swear) this was the first time I was able to step into a ballroom and, when no one was looking, twirl around and pretend to dance.

I was there on my own, no boy or friend to gush with, so I had to quickly learn to get over being shy and talk with people, which I did. I even laughed, told a dirty joke or two and toasted someone on their birthday. I met big Hollywood people from actors to directors to producers and listened to some very good speeches on media consolidation. I ate far too much and sipped good wine and all in all, had a very lovely night.

As I drove home along Sunset Blvd I played the Oldies station and danced in my seat to the Beatles. I realised how good I was feeling and knew it wasn’t because of the wine, the people, the music or the twirling of the dress. It was because I was able to go out and have a night on my own, a little private time, and have the only worry of if I was having a good time or not. I was able to participate in my interests without having to explain them or feel strange about them because I went on my own to a group that had the same beliefs. It was a rather freeing night.

So much of the last several years has been about other people and doing things for them or with them that it was nice to take an evening out for just myself. It reminded me of how I used to go to movies alone, fancy dinners by myself and even trips just for the hell of it. Then I became rather used to going out with someone else (boy and friends and family) and finding common ground and then doing an event based on that. Tonight was a little selfish and a heck of a lot of fun.

And I don’t think it was the last time, either.

Tuesday, February 15th, 2005

Oh! Chocolate

One of my favourite romantic evenings didn’t start out that way. It started as cold, rainy day in Brugge followed by lots of sight seeing and a bout of crankiness that set in around supper. After a eating something to warm to try to soothe my soul, a box of chocolates was purchased on the way home from a little chocolatier, Leonida’s.

Back at the sweet, beautiful and oh so simple Bed and Breakfast, we laid in the bed and opened the box of chocolates and one by one, ate them in silence. Every bit was savoured, little pieces were shared, enjoyment was had. It probably took us an hour or two to go through a box and I swear, I swooned the whole way through. The evening ended the totally oppoisite way in which it had begun.

So when I saw that Leonida’s was here in Santa Monica and that they had their chocolates shipped via air express once a week, I knew it would be the perfect way to spend Valentines – a holiday I’ve never celebrated before.

After a hectic day in which I had begun rather exhausted, we walked to the chocolatier, picked out a small box of chocolates, walked home along the ocean and once again took a couple of hours to dine on the best. And I swooned all over again.

Tuesday, January 25th, 2005

Since moving into my flat on the 7th, I’ve been go, go, go every day. New place here, new place there, do this chore, that one, get this, get that. I was literally running myself down by doing so much. Yet I couldn’t slow down because there was so much to do and I was loving all that I was doing. But my body and sanity required that I figure out a way to somehow relax even if I just had 15minutes a day to do so.

So when Mary Catherine and I decided to have a power meeting last week to go over our project, I decided to combine a writing assignment with our business meeting by having Afternoon Tea at the fabulous Hotel Bel-Air. For several hours we sipped tea, ate little sandwhiches and worked our asses off. The atmosphere was beautiful and quiet and although we were working hard, the surroundings and the event itself made it all very relaxing.

This week has already started with a bang; so much work to do and emails to catch up on. By noon this morning I had already been out doing so much and written up a list of to do’s 4 pages long. I rang up Mary Catherine to see if she would keep me company this afternoon whilst running errands and while I waited for her I worked a couple of hours. By the time she arrived I was feeling tired and drained, knowing that if I didn’t take a break, I’d be useless and cranky.

Arriving at Robertson Blvd in Beverly Hills, she pointed out a restaurant, The Ivy, which she had heard was a great little spot for breaking. I asked her if she’d mind stopping in to grab a little somethin’ somethin’ before we started doing all of the overwhelming bits. She said of course because we needed to both celebrate (we’re both going to be starting new jobs) and take a moment to replenish.

We ended up spending a couple of hours just sipping our latte’s and sharing a spectacular peice of White Chocolate Lemon Cake with berries (for celebration purposes of course), We dished, laughed and relaxed the entire time. By the end of it, I was feeling energised, excited and ready to go home and work some more. It was the break I needed during a very busy day.

I can’t forsee a time when things will slow down – in fact the pace will most likely pick up between my new work, my projects, and building a home – so I have to find moments to rest, slow down, and enjoy during the craziness. Catching my breath is up to me and perhaps it will only be found in a cafe or during a meeting and last no more than an hour or two. But I need to look for or create little moments of relaxation and carefreeness instead of running myself up for months on end and hoping for a week long break some time in the future, only to crash before that can happen. There can’t be extremes of either competely doing or not doing, there has to be balance.

Tuesday, January 18th, 2005

There’s been a lot of questions about why I, a girl who adores simplicity, authenticity and a European lifestyle would move to L.A. – a place where everything seems to go against all that I write about. People have been wondering why I would make such a move and if it’s because I’m now buying into some kind of lifestyle.

The truth is, I moved for two reasons: warmth/sun and for a creative career. Los Angeles seemed the best place. However, I too, had reservations about moving here because of everything I’d ever heard about the city (none of which was ever good).

But on a visit in September and another in December, I knew that for right now, I belonged here. Specifically Santa Monica.

In North America I have only ever lived in Vancouver BC, Banff AB, Seattle WA, Nashville TN and Lexington KY and only the last 6 years in America. So when I compare, this is what I compare against. But from my experiences, LA/Santa Monica is by far the best place. Seattle was the most judgmental city I’ve ever been to in my entire life. There’s a certain kind of person that is supposed to live there (and loves it) and if you don’t fit into that, there’s something wrong. People judged you by how you dressed, I received more dirty looks from women than I can count and being different (even just by wearing something besides navy) made you an outsider. The weather? Crap. The city itself, crap. Jobs? Crap. I was so unhappy in that city, it wasn’t for me despite many, many efforts.

Canada, though nice on a lot of levels, always felt very limiting to me by the fact that taxation is so high and the red tape for companies even higher. Jobs there are limiting and jobs in the entertainment field even more so now due to the Canadian dollar rising and Arnold wanting companies to film in California. Vancouver, once a favourite city, has turned out to me, at least, to be very uncomfortable, too hip, too trying. It also seems as though it has a cap on what you can do and right now I want to break through the roof on so many levels.

When I first came to LA, the first thing I noticed was that nobody cared what I was wearing or doing. The staring that was so often done in the pacific northwest was not done here. No one asked where I was from, people weren’t bitter or even stupid. In fact, people here are the most genuinely friendly, helpful people I’ve ever met. In the two weeks I’ve lived here, I’ve met more people who have honestly helped me than I did anywhere else. And everyone I’ve made friends with are truly authentic, creative, helpful, kind people – none of whom are in the entertainment business. Most are artists but a lot have regular office jobs. A nice mix instead of only knowing computer people or corporate managers.

In Santa Monica, there’s a farmers market three times a week which would rival any in Provence. The streets are lined with small cafes that serve very good food and a very reasonable price and the best part? Just like in Europe they expect no turnover which means you can linger for as long as you like. No waiters trying to be your friend or bitter because they have to work. Everyone seems to take their job a little more seriously here (which is surprising because a lot of peoples “day jobs” are not what they really want to do) which makes for better service.

The sunshine is amazing – it’s currently 80F/25C. People are relaxed, happy, and casual. Yes, people are attractive here but it’s in a very natural European way (in fact, there are more Europeans here than in any other city I’ve lived in outside of Europe). I’ve seen more naturally pretty women here than anywhere else – ones with simple hair, makeup and clothes. But everyone seems put together. No slop.

I live in Santa Monica and must confess to spending most of my time here. I’ve been up to Pasadena, spent time in Beverly Hills, West Hollywood and Long Beach and there it’s probably more “LA.” But for me, Santa Monica feels so European – it feels like what Vancouver’s West End used to be like before it got all “cool” and in my opinion, lost a lot of that genuine feeling.

The downsides for me is that it’s very, very expensive. My rent has tripled and I live in a 700sf one bedroom without the usual ameneties and when moving I had to pay first months, last months and a pet deposit which equaled one months rent, my auto and home insurance increased, water/gas/electric/internet all went up as well and a lot of general services cost more. I moved with literally no furniture and have been holding off on repurchasing several things to do a lot of stores costing more here (so far, just the bed has been done but no frame yet). Gas is more and one tends to use more of it. I saved every penny for months before moving and have used up all my savings to be here – and there’s still more costs involved like switching car registration, licensing, parking permits and so forth. So financially, it’s been a challenge but I believe that the outcome will be worth it and that I will have more oppurtunities to create more money here than where I lived previously.

Will I live here forever? Most likely not. I still wish to move back to France and set up shop there but that’s not for years to come. Right now, I’m just so thrilled to be here – something I never expected I’d say. The possibilities are endless. Any job you can dream up you can have. Any place you want to go to is here. Or, if you just wish to hang out at a beach and quietly have a little picnic you can do that – even in January.

Stereotypes come from somewhere and there are jerks here like everywhere else. There’s the hustlers, the women with very large breasts and actors on every street corner. But L.A. is such a massive, massive place (it’s unlike any major city I’ve ever been to including London and Paris) that there’s little pockets of amazingness everywhere.

And I feel like I fit in perfectly here – Santa Monica specifically – without having to change one bit. In fact, I’m more myself than ever before.

Tuesday, January 11th, 2005

After two weeks of non-stop storms and record rains, the sun came out and I decided to make use of it since I have not been able to wander since moving here.

Being close to the charming Montana Street here in Santa Monica has it’s benefits – a quick walk and I was sipping tea to fight of the forceful winds that were taking down palm trees everywhere. A little walk more and I was in a paper store picking out note cards of thanks. A block or two more and I found myself at the most wonderful store, House Inc, where I will purchase a set of bedding once I can wade through the sample fabrics I was given.

Coming home, the flowers were clinging for dear life on the tree but welcomed me just the same. And once inside the flat, I was relaxed, calm, and for the first time in a year, so very happy and hopeful.

So far as I can tell, I am home. Though I still have the lingering want to move back to France (and know I will eventually), I think I have found a place that fits me and a place where I feel like I belong (no one seems to judge or care who you are here, so many friendly people and lots of please and thank-yous. Plus sun!). It makes all the terrifying moments, the uncertaintity of moving and all the fear I had about it all so worth it when I wake up each day and welcome it instead of wanting to climb under the covers because I don’t understand the point of getting out.

Now, instead of wondering what life would be like if I kicked my own ass, I know. And it’s really enforced in me that there’s no such thing as failure, just experience. Oh things aren’t all settled nor easy but being OK with the process, the waiting, the figuring makes it all a bit easier. Making once good choice always leads to others.

Here’s to making more.