alex the girl

Last year when I went back to Europe, I was reminded how natural I bought a much nicer picture than this. Really I did.

and accepted art is. In America, there tends to be a snob factor, or an elitist air about it. If not, then it's completely scholarly or slovenly.

I've been afraid of art but over the past year I've gotten back into it - even docenting at an art museum. I purchased my second piece of art ever for my birthday and it's amazing. It feels so good to have a peice of art that means something and from someone I've spoken with.

I believe that in order to be a part of art, I have to support it and that's my intention when I buy things now or with the websites I create. My best friend is here and she told me how creative I was. "I am now I said," and then added, "No offense, but I never was an artist before becuase you were the arty and creative one. I didn't think I could do what you do. Then I realised I could, if I just tried.

< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 19, 2002

Sometimes learning that anything really is possible can come from something as simple as a fish out of water.

I came home after an hours walk and proceeded to make lunch and do some writing. Twenty minutes passed before I made my way into the living room where I saw the mess and screamed.

The cat had managed somehow to knock the fish bowl over, onto the floor, despite the fact the fish bowl was high on a shelf in the corner. The bowl was laying on the side, gravel was everywhere and my poor fish was just laying on the carpet. There was maybe two inches of water left in the bowl and I quickly put the fish in there, and surprise of surprise, the bugger started to move.

I quickly moved him to a small cup, cleaned his bowl, gave him new water, waited ten minutes and put him in. To my amazement, he survived the whole ordeal and has even been sassying me during feeding.

I'll never know how he survived the fall, laying there on the carpet for I don't know how long, and possibly a cat swiping him once or twice. But he did. He's one brave and tough little fish.

Good thing I called him Badass.

< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 17, 2002

I had the most wonderful birthday day today.

A drive through the country side where we found the sweetest cafe in the middle of nowhere. I had big thick slices of french toast - extra syrup - with a candle stuck in one of the pieces accompanied by the best caramel mocha I've ever had. After we took a trip out to the winery where I was greeted by a peacock. An afternoon nap, a lazy early evening listening to him play his guitar, followed by dinner at our favourite Thai place where she gave me Thai ice cream for my birthday. Then it was home where we spent the evening just lying together on the couch.

So far, I'm beginning my twenty eighth year very happy and content.
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< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 12, 2002

There are few things I really regard as necessities, and even then I could still go without them.

There's nothing like a good bed, cozy quilt, partner with warm feet, good daily meal and that perfect cup of brewed tea at 4pm. Ok, and now and then a good zit cream.

Its so easy to get caught up in wanting things, because there are just so many wonderful things out there. Its easy to fall for the hype and have unwise cravings for gadgets. It's not so evil to fall for them once in awhile, I don't think. Just as long as you realise they're not necessities, but bonuses.

I think, too, that the more bored you are in life, the more you want. After being in bed for seven days, I assure you that I've wanted the world. Moving my arse a little today, easing back into life, I keep asking myself what was I thinking.

< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 08, 2002

Being bedridden for the last several days, I've been subjected to too much pitiful women's magazines. I have seen it all, the lies. It never really bothered me before, but it does now.

Valentines day.

Women bitching and moaning how their man doesn't bring them flowers. People saying they won't get married without the big ring. Men asking their women to put on sexy clothing and shake it like a hard martini.

Whatever. That's not romance, that's not love, that's just illusion. If you want to build a relationship on that, you're not building a strong foundation.

I'll tell you what love is. Tomorrow I get to see my husband after being away from him for a week. I won't be totally recognisable to him, my face all distorted and swollen with lots of stitches and blackened eyes. I move slowly, with effort, and my speech is very quiet. I won't be able to run up to him when he picks me up, I won't be able to kiss him and hugging him will have to be gently. But I know that he won't mind one bit. To him, I'll be the most beautiful girl. He'll tell me how he missed me, he'll care for me by making me tea and tucking me in at night. I won't feel like an inconvenience or an ugly monster. He'll be patient with me. He'll love me.

That's your romance right there. The other stuff, it's either fluff or icing depending on what you already have. If he doesn't buy you flowers every week or write you love poems by candle light every night, how much does that matter if you know you're unconditionally loved?

We need to wake up and redefine romance and get real.Really.

< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 06, 2002

He asked me if I had any questions.

"Will I be able to taste the cake on my birthday on the 17th?"

"We hope so. Anything else?"

"Yes, please don't fuck this up." And then I was out. The surgery went well he said and the part of my jaw he had to remove came out, and I'm now on the road to healing. My face is swollen more than any chipmunks, I'm slowly learning to speak again and so far, my sense of taste hasn't come back. Which, is actually a good thing considering all the mush I must eat.

< January 2002 | Main | March 2002 >

February 01, 2002

It's such a whorish thing to do, I know. There are people on the streets, biafrians
asking for money on tv, and one too many stray cats. Yet I can't help but be completely, utterly, selfish and wish for a little Anthropologie, a few books, or a wee bit of beauty for my birthday on Sunday.

Oh, and lets not forget the biggest ass piece of cake a person can find.

The shame of it all. I am prepared for hell.