alex the girl

One of the strangest things (among many) for me to get used to while living in America is the lack of home.

Oh, people know how to go and purchase a bed in a bag, watch a decorating show to learn how to hang pictures in alignment and can go to Target and pick out pillows with matching table linens like nobodies business. But, there is very little home feeling here.

When going to a lot of homes, they always feel generic; as though they were just created as they are supposed to be without any regard to who lives there. The warm, welcoming feeling that I grew up with generally escapes me here when I visit people. There's a lack of connection between tenants and home.

And it doesn't just end there; most buildings here are sterile; more for impressive design awards rather than regards to the inhabitants. Everything is so perfect, so pieced together that nothing looks inviting. It all looks so done.

Then there are homes that have so much stuff. Clutter here, there and everywhere. People afraid to let go of things. Generally when going into these places I am easily overwhelmed, I don't know where to look, to sit, to be. I often wonder how people can afford to have so much stuff and then complain of having no money. It escapes understanding from me, these extremes.

I moved a lot as a child and in a lot of cases, my parents rented homes. But despite this, no matter where we lived we claimed the home as ours and always set it up as best we could. I find in America when people rent, they tend to disregard their space, letting it fill up with crap or run it down because it's not theirs. They save real living for the day they have a real house. I don't understand how one can be disconnected for so long.

As I embrace my French side more and more, my style and home life is leaning more and more French. I'm returning to my roots, to my understandings as a child where the home was simple, inviting, personal. Where I had things that were of use, meaningful or pretty and nothing else. Where I thought about placement, about cleaning, about living.

I'm not one for decorating or latest gadgets. I'm not for keeping up with the Jones�' or having a braggable space. But I am one who enjoys a beautiful home, a space that feels calm and safe, somewhere I enjoy being and a place that is infused with my personality even if it's just my home for six months or a year.

I often wonder, if more people in America embraced a simpler, more meaningful way of living in their home if some of the depression, anger, feelings of competition, despair, and boredom would be alleviated.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 22, 2004

Ah, the evening. Where do I begin? It started with what seemed like an ordinary afternoon - rushing from one place to the next, quickly jumping in the shower, checking email - only to become an extraordinary evening because of a meeting with amazing new friends.

Four hours of non-stop dishing and talking in the lounge with drinks, desserts and very bold coffee. Perhaps there were celebrities around, big names making big deals and romance happening at other tables but I wouldn't know because I was far too busy being immersed in two people's lives. Oh, the conversations, the understandings, the head nods.

After we bid them a long farewell, we retreated to our suite where we ate fruit, relaxed in the jacuzzi tub and played jazz on the stereo as we looked at the moon filling up the ocean. This is the good life, we thought.

And although were were at a nice hotel, indulging ourselves in that regard, what we were really talking about was the connection we had with others; the sincere connection where someone lights you up and makes you feel sane and possible rather than the glitz and pampering that you can buy if you have enough cash.

Because this night was really made up of what you couldn't.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 22, 2004

It has been a few days of luxury; last night was a fabulous stay at the highly recommended Hotel Oceana in Santa Monica. We would have stayed there but a seconed night if it were not for them being fully booked. The little suite we had held our Whole Food groceries wonderfully and was located across from the ocean. It's warm golden colour scheme combined with punches of blue reminded me of the chic botique hotels in Souther France. It was heavenly.

Today we checked into the very exclusive Hotel Casa del Mar where, upon check-in, a man brushed past me and said, "Excuse me" to which I paid no attention. After registering I went out to the car in which the concierge informed me it was Tom Hanks who had just walked past. It didn't hit me until Chris mentioned he had been watching him (as Chris was a couple of feet away) before he jumped into his Toyota Prius. At least I knew those enviromental ads Tom makes are legit and that the hotel was going to be pretty nice.

Our room overlooks the ocean, which I could hear as I ate my supper in the room. The ipod is hooked up to a fabulous stereo and I've been rocking out whilst getting ready for company tonight.

Oh, the sunshine, the smiling faces, the pretty Anthropologie and palm trees. I think I've fallen for this town.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 18, 2004

It looks as though my mountain retreat will have to wait as it's been decided today to go to Los Angeles tomorrow - by car.

Things are happening in beautiful, magical ways. It started when I decided to listen for answers instead of just always asking questions. I had forgotten how to be still, to wait, to trust. These last several years in America I've always felt that I had to move, make things happen, control.

It got me no where.

So instead, I visualised what I wanted and when I wanted it to happen and then offered a little effort combined with a lot of listening for clues.

And here I am. Heading off tomorrow to find out how real it will all be.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 08, 2004

So then, my life as a girl wearing ass-crack jeans begins.

It should be noted that the last time I wore jeans was back in the eighties when they were light and zipped up to your breasts. Yes, that would be enough to frighten anyone from wearing them ever again.

I've come to accept that my strengths lie in skirts (short or knee length), and a rather lovely pair of soft, baggy mustard type pants from my favourite store. I realised that I can do pretty and cute but always thought hip was someone else. This was solidified after I was in San Francisco and had just purchased a sweet pale blue sweater from Anthropologie. It was charming, pretty even. No way was it hip. That is, until Andrea put it on, over here bright orange pants and purple tank top with pigtails to match. She made it hip, not I. At that moment I decided I was never going to be hip.

Even when a friend later on told me I could be and on a vacation to Vancouver (at a hip hotel - I can do hip hotels) she took my hand and lead me into a jeans store. There my thirty year old ass tried on 42 pairs of jeans amongst 20 year old asses. It wasn't pretty. Nothing looked right and after two and a half hours my friend said, "Yes Alex, I don't think you can do hip."

Exactly what my style is I couldn't tell you. I'm not into frou or girly although I do have a pink skirt and a flowery type hat. I can be polished in what I call is my naughty 70's secretary outfit (wonderful boots, great skirt, nice fitting white top and blonde hair), I can be comfy in my favourite pair of pants and light sweater or playful or creative in my favourite dress (either with flats or boots depending) and jacket. (in fact, a lot of the time when I'm out, people stare at me because they've never seen such clothing. they'll make comments such as "i like it" and then I ask "would you wear it" to which they always say no. Why not? They're hip)

However, I was never in, cool, fashionable.

Until the jeans.

I put them on, threw on a top, added some boots and when I stood before Chris his mouth went open. He said he wouldn't recognise me on the street. He said I looked hip. I thought so too.

But, I'll not be retiring any of the other stuff just yet. I like to live in both worlds. Besides, who says you have to be only one way?

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 07, 2004

Saturday brought the first fall-like day and I found myself at the fish ladder - a man-made passage for salmon to pass from the Pacific Ocean into Lake Washington. And although I had been there before, this would be the first time I understood the salmon's journey.

The ladder is an in-between place, a sort of resting spot. It�s where the salmon literally catch their breath as they learn to adjust their breathing from the ocean's saltwater to the lake's fresh. While they rest here, their body is slowly changing to prepare them for their next stage of their life. It is here they take time to change.

I understand.

I'm in my own resting place at the moment; catching my breath as I move from one place to the next. And while I'm going through my own transformation of sorts, the site will be down for fall. I will, however, keep posting photos intermittently to Flickr.

Though not to worry. It will come back, when I've adjusted and am ready to once again swim in un-chartered waters. (If you'd like to know when, click here).

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 06, 2004

A little photographic collection from my outing at the park today.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 03, 2004

This picture was taken in a very large toy store a couple of months back. Chris was busy looking at things that boys look at in such stores and I was bored. I headed to the back of the store and discovered a bike that looked like so much fun.

So I rode it.

I was busy riding around the back of the store and Chris came over (he had heard people talkinga bout a crazy woman riding a childs bike). When I turned a corner, there he was, taking a picture of me and my huge grin.

It was so much fun and I encourage everyone to try those little bikes in stores.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 02, 2004

Will Ferrell's ad about George Bush is so very cheeky and well done. You have to appreciate him regardless of what side your on.

< August 2004 | Main | October 2004 >

September 01, 2004

This morning when I woke and climbed out of bed, I felt a cold floor for the first time in months. The living area and kitchen were cool too, from breezes coming in through the window.

On my walk to the post I had to wear a light sweater and when I stopped at my favourite birch trees the bark was peeling rapidly. Even at the weekly market the flowers had gone from bright pinks and yellows to deep reds and orange.

It's fall.

For most, fall seems to be a busy time; it's people going back to school, shopping for winter wear, taking last minute trips, getting ready for hibernation and holidays ahead. But for me, fall is the sweetest, laziest, simplest time there is.

One would think this would be summer but I always end up chasing summer hard; there's always trips to take, games to play, gardens to tend to, hikes to make, friends visiting, so much daylight that the day never ends.

Fall lets me slow down.

It's when I take longer to get up in the morning because I need to hold my tea cup that much longer and sip two cups instead of one. It's when the pace of my walk slows so that I can see all the changes happening and sometimes stop my walk altogether (as I had to this morning when hail struck for ten minutes. This lead me to just sit under a flower tent at the market and stare at the most amazing flowers). Fall is when I take a week long trip into the mountains to do absolutely nothing except feel small and amazed by what the largeness and age of all that surrounds me.

There's currently a lot of change going on with my life (career, home, family, friends) and I should be moving at an alarming speed, freaking out over all that needs to be done, trying to be some kind of superwoman. But I'm not.

Instead I'm just doing what I can in a quiet way, trusting that surrendering to everything, enjoying the moments, and slowing down will get me where I need to go faster than if I moved like a bullet.

This is what fall is, to me. Slowing down whilst knowing that everything else is changing too without rush or worry. Taking comfort in the fact that it'll all happen as it happens and enjoying all the moments inbetween.

A good movie for this entry and for fall is the charming and sweet little movie, Tuck Everlasting (made for children but, I disgress). My favourite scene for understanding how to slow down is the amazing part with the cherries being pitted one at a time. How is that for slowing down and enjoying the process rather than the clock.

Also, to help you ease into fall and slow down, I've added a Tea article to my recipe section.