alex the girl

I found myself at four yesterday in desperate need of tea - something soothing, calming, and relaxing. The day had been spent looking at this flat and that, combing the streets for something, going off leads from the paper and strangers alike.

The pickings at this point are slim - at the end of the month mostly everything is gone and what's left isn't all that great.

But as I pulled into the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf Company for a double vanilla tea latte (which, really did soothe my soul), I thought that perhaps Santa had answered my letter (especially since the earrings were nowhere to be found).

Earlier in the day we had found a charming little place from the 1940's which reminded me so much of my favourite flat of all time in Vancouver. Hardwood floors, large windows, beautiful tile in the kitchen and bathroom. A little courtyard, too. No neighbours below, above and only one common wall. Quiet, lovely.

What kept me from falling in-love was that it wasn't as posh as I wanted. I was spoiled by my flat in Seattle of 3 years which was all modern, with granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, washer/dryer inside and soft carpet for rolling. I couldn't replace that here and so I had troubles visuallising any other kind of home.

But as I sipped my tea and thought of my letter to Santa, I realised this place had everything I wanted. Once more, it had only a 6 month lease which would allow us to just get settled, get set-up and find something else come summer.

So then today I woke to heavy rains and winds and drove to the flat to apply. After awhile the landlord rang us to tell us that we were approved and as the the phone was hung up, the sun came out. We smiled.

What all this has taught me is that vision is a great thing to have. You have to have something to work for, hope for, and dream of. If you can visualise what you want then it has a high chance of happening. But one also has to be flexible with that vision because perhaps there's a better way of doing something that you don't know until you start taking steps.

By being flexible, the ultimate dream has more chance of success, I think. And at any rate, it helps to keep one a little more sane.

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December 29, 2004

It took a day later than thought due to weather and tiredness. We left Seattle for sun yet hit the worst rain storm in over 50 years in the Los Angeles area. It was not a good night.

So we tucked in early into a hotel where we watched a great little movie, School of Rock, on cable. We fell asleep with ease which was good as our day today has been hectic.

There was unloading the truck into storage - our life now fits neatly into a 4X10 box. There was the dropping off of the truck, the checking into a temporary flat until the 01st, the picking up of groceries and the eating of dinner.

I now type on my little ibook which sits on the floor, surrounded by two suitcases, a boy, a fish and a cat. The flat hunting will begin tomorrow.

Everything at this point has become almost normal. There's no feeling of being overwhelmed anymore because I've accepted that life is just crazy right now. There is no resting, no stopping, no taking time to breathe.

So in the midst of it all, I laugh a lot. I smile, chat up strangers, sing songs, do hand stands, sleep, dream and look forward. What else are you going to do? It's not easy, but this is my choice. And sometimes what we want takes a little elbow grease, no?

Also, I feel who am I to complain in the midst of a natural disaster. I donated some much needed money to the Red Cross to help even if it's just a little. I have not a lot to offer at this point, so I offer what I can.

Do what you can when you can - now there's something to live by.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 27, 2004

I write a bit weary this evening; the sleep last night was rather bad as I tossed and turned terribly which caused me to wake earlier than I'd like. I was also up later than expected because I had cable and could catch up on a few shows I always hear about (I learned that MTV really does not, in fact, play music).

The boy, the cat, the fish and I once again packed into the truck. It was my turn to drive and I must confess I was nervous. I have once driven a tourist bus when I worked for tour company at age 21. The driver thought it would be funny to see a wee thing trying to manueveur a bus. It was amusing - and scary to oncoming traffic.

The truck wouldn't have been so scary were it not for the fact it was carrying everything we owned and towing our only car. But I did rather good and for the next several hours enjoyed driving it - feeling like a trucker and even giving myself a trucker name (10-4 this is Eager Beaver. Oh my, how that entertained me for hours).

With only an FM radio, we sung badly to very bad music and had very long discussions about everything. Although a lot of the time we just sat and marvelled at the beautiful scenery of southern Oregon along I-5.

Rolling hills, little towns, lakes and in most parts, snow. Covered entirely in snow. We had been warned of severe weather and when we had called this morning we were told parts of I-5 was shut down or requiring chains and that's how it'd be for the rest of the week. This made us nervous.

We plunged forth and somehow just missed the storm and the traffic backup it had created. It was raining like mad. I think this is because I had found a lucky penny earlier that afternoon (finding pennies and parking spots are my talents).

This evening we drove through a major rain storm in the mountains which was less than fun. It also made it very difficult to play I Spy but ah well, what can one do?

Now I find myself sitting in a hotel in Sacremento, ready for sleep and desperate for my own flat with a real bath. There's a wind storm taking place in L.A. in which they're warning trucks and trailers to stay off road. Perhaps we'll find ourselves unable to get there by tomorrow night. Or perhaps I'll find another lucky penny.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 26, 2004

This morning we awoke, washed up and headed to Whole Foods for some breakfast and to purchase our groceries for the trip. We then headed to pick up our rental truck and then home to load our boxes, sweep the flat clean and head out.

We were out of Seattle around 5. Loaded in the front cabin was Chris at the wheel, the Grace the cat in the middle in her carrier, I in the passenger seat and Badass the fish on the top of the dash, leading the way.

A good-bye was said to the main bridges, roadways, favourite eating areas followed by the city then state. It's now 10:30 at night and we're in a little hotel in Oregon - the boy, the cat, the fish and I - and ready to eat a little snack and head off to repeat all over again tommorow.

There's a bit of fear mixed with the excitement in what we're doing. We have no home to go to, no job to start, no security. Just a dream and a lot of will. If there's one thing I've learned it's that anything is possible if only you try.

And we try.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 24, 2004

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December 20, 2004

This is the first year that there is no tree, no decorations, no presents to wrap or unwrap, no cards to display, cookies to bake, dinners to go to, family to laugh with. It's just an empty flat with a few boxes, a mattress, a very large cat a tin of chocolate given by a dear friend.

Christmas, to me, has always been a very special time. I celebrate the 24th in the traditional Danish way and the 25th in the French. The season has always been about doing for others, toasting with others, being cosy at home, relaxing, dreaming and all that good stuff. I haven't become bitter with any of it. In fact, I'm one of those that adores Christmas tunes, belting them out like nobodies business.

But this year, my idea of Christmas couldn't become a reality. It just couldn't. With the loss of my family, the uncertainty of where we're living, the tightness of money for the move, well, the usual couldn't be.

This made me rather poopy I must confess for a little while. So programmed to think that X, Y and Z make Christmas. Even at times being a bit jealous when I heard of parties and food and saw pretty packages in the stores. But then, I got over it. I had to.

So our Christmas won't really be Christmas this year. We'll be packing up our housewares instead of opening packages but that doesn't mean it's not Christmas. It just means that's our Christmas. It's different this year. Everyone needs a change up now and then I suppose.

I used to think when I heard once child-stars complain about their childhood saying, "I didn't have one, I worked" that they actually did have a childhood - it was just different than most. That's what it was. You can either be bitter about what you didn't have and what was different or you remember it as something that got you to where you are.

That's what I'm doing with the holidays.

So then Merry Christmas everyone, however you celebrate it. If I could I would write you a note, send you a gift, think of something clever to write to inspire. But all I can do as of this moment is to hope that one of your most spectacular wishes will come true - whatever it is. That you'll have moments of grace and beauty and that you'll have the sweetest little holiday one can.

xo
alex

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 18, 2004

Taking a huge leap - just up and moving next week, looking for a place, putting our boxes in storage, relying on the kindness of friends to let us sleep in their beds and just knowing that whatever happens, we can deal. This has nothing to do with bravery or strength as people often think. It only has to do with not wanting to settle when one knows they can do more. There isn't anything harder than doing nothing and the feelings that come with it.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 17, 2004

There's a lot to learn about surrendering to things just happening.

I used to be the kind of girl that just floated as the current moved. It would take me whereever and instead of feeling adrift, I felt I was going places. Relaxed, happy, adventerous.

But since coming to America I've learned about the word security and started to let that control me. Had to have everything just so. Had to have the job, the home, the right way of doing things and on and on. Living this way was always very taxing and never much fun.

With regards to the move, both of us have been looking for the easy way. Trying to control every situation, not moving until everything was inline. We uttered the phrase when things calm down we will... more than I could know. We weren't doing anythign in the present and only living in the future as nothing we could control was going right.

This week, I decided to give up controlling anything and everything. To just do what I can, when I can. This lead me to purchase a plane ticket on Monday afternoon and fly out that same day to LA to scout for a flat. I had been afraid to fly there on my own and drive so instead I had been waiting for the perfect move until I could get over my fears. But, fuck it, I thought, there's no perfect time to do anything. And I got my ass there and got over my fears.

I didn't find a flat during my two-day stay which created more problems with the move. If we're out by the 22nd there's no penalty for breaking a lease but if we're out on the 22nd and take several days to drive, where do we stay? There was no home. How long do we live out of a box?

Each day we have ben changing our plans, trying to find the easy route, the safest route, the one that will work the best. But we haven't been able to come up with anything. There's no easy way to do what we want. There's no safe way - there's far too many uncertainties. And that's why in the past we haven't moved. We wanted control - but we didn't have any.

So we have given that up. Thinking of just going, putting stuff in storage, doing weekly rentals here and there until we find something. Figuring it out as we go along. We have confidence that we can figure things out as they happen - we don't have to try to plan everything right now because really, that's impossible. It makes us focus our energy on things that might not happen and takes away fromt he moment.

Oh, it's scary as hell to be so up in air, to not know what's going on. It's frustrating to not have a home, to not have a place to relax, to not know where we'll be but at the same time, releasing all of that is a bit freeing. Giving up security creates more freedom than trying to control ever did.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 10, 2004

As a young girl I was more than active; I was in gymnastics, dance, football (soccer), rollar/ice skating and anything else I could get my hands on. I adored playing and sports but I must confess that my favourites were always the ones in which I could do something in a pretty dress (I actually kicked a lot of ass in football in a fabulous yellow summer dress).

One of my favourite things to do was to put on a pair of very clunky rollarskates that attached to your shoes and skate in my yard to a very shabby tape player. I'd do this for hours at a time and just felt like pure magic.

However, at 8, most of these things came to an end whilst my family and I spent a year trying to find the reasons why I had so much pain in my ankle. At 9, I could barely walk until it was discovered I had a very rare bone condition and had surgery to correct it.

I turned 10 a week after this surgery and, I think as a surprise to make me feel better, I received a brand-new pair of lace-up white boot rollar skates. I was devestated.

I had wanted these for as long as I skated but, with one leg that would remain in a cast for the next two months, they now seemed like a joke. I couldn't skate. Ever. It would be too hard. In fact, I was convinced it would be impossible.

For the next week I stared at those skates with so much anger and frustrations until one day I couldn't take it anymore. I had to use them.

And I did.

I laced one fancy boot skate on my good leg and, on the leg with a cast, I put the old skate that I manipulated to fit on the cast. With crutches for balance I skated around for the next couple of hours on one foot. And I had a marvelous time.

It was at that moment that I realised if I loved to do something, I would find a way to do it no matter what. I assure you, skating on one foot was not easy and the looks I got from neighbours were that I was crazy. Some of the tricks I could do with two good legs I could no longer do with just the one but I could still do some - plus a few new ones.

I was thinking of this because this year has been filled with so many obstacles that at times, I didn't think I could do much of anything. The new dream I had created for myself seemed impossible. The dream Chris & I had created of moving far away seemed with each new day and each new thing to overcome also, impossible.

But we figured out a way to manuver what we have. We figured out a way to fit a rollar skate on a cast and glide. Even over the bumps.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 08, 2004

I've never been a cook but not for the usual reason of hating to cook. It's been more that I've never had to. I've always lived in great places where, as a single girl, it was cheaper to eat out than cook a meal. I had roomates who were chefs and loved to feed me. Now, with being so close to Whole Foods I find myself buying their pre-made everything instead of cooking.

But I recently purchased a couple of cookbooks and have become really inspired to cook. The problem is I own no cookware. None. Not even a microwave.

The world of cooking is full of opinions and I am overwhelmed by choices. So, if you are a cook, what do you use, what does one need and, do tell, where are the deals?

Things I need that I know I need:
- Microwave
- Pots & Pans (but which? How many? Stainless? Cast Iron?)
- Knives
- Cutting boards (I'm leaning towards these beautiful bamboo ones I've found at Whole Foods. I don't like plastic)
- Measuring cups and spoons

I should like to add that I was reading the December issue of Martha Stewart Living today (December 09 - and I have to say the latest issues are fabulous. I used to dislike this magazine but now, it's very useful) and there is a section entitled, The Right Tools. Here's a quick rundown of what they suggest (all of which I do not have, so if you have ideas on brands or if these things are, in fact, useful, let me know):

1. Essential Knives (serrated, slicing, japanese cooks, paring)
2. Japanese Mandolin for slicing
3. High quality stainless steel kitchen shears
4. All-steel, u-shaped peeler
5. Cotton flour-sack towels
6. Stainless-steel footed colander with large holes
7. Spider strainer
8. Wide stainless-steel nesting bowls
9. Box graters
10. Tongs
11. Basic metal whisks
12. Cutting boards
13. Measuring cups & spoons
14. Stainless steel spatulas
15. Oven thermometre
16. Sharpener & honing steel
17. Digital Timers
18. Silicon Spatulas
19. Wooden Spoons
20. Citrus Press.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 04, 2004

Currently late morning, Charlie Brown Christmas is playing in the background, the heat is turned high and I'm waiting for the tea to finish brewing so that I can put it into my travel mug and head out. I'm heading north for the day to say good-bye to my best-friend of half my life, Emily.

It's not the first time we'll say good-bye to each other. The first was around 18 when I decided with no real reason (and no knowledge) to move to some little remote ski village in the Canadian Rockies. I did not ski and I didn't know anyone there. But I went and she saw me off. The both of us cried so much because we were so connected, spending every moment together, being goofy, knowing each other's synchronicities. We were a unit and unsure how things would be once separated. It was the hardest thing to leave her and I cried the entire trip there. I kept asking myself why I was giving up that friendship, why was I giving up comfort, why was I giving up everything I knew for something I had no idea of?

Turns out going to that little town was the best thing that happened to me and, several months later, she joined me and it began several years of adventures for us. I'd leave her a few more times but we'd always connect. Even through the bumpy patches.

Somehow in the last several years we managed to live only 3 hours from each other and that's been wonderful. It's allowed for all-night talking fests whilst playing Cranium, it's allowed her husband and mine to become great friends, too, it's allowed me to meet her beautiful son and so forth. But, once again, I'm leaving for some town in which I have no idea about and will try for some adventure - giving up comfort, what I know and a friend.

Oh, she'll visit and perhaps I'll return once in awhile here to say hullo. There's emails and postcards to send but to leave a friend is always sad. Perhaps it's that way so that we can know the joy of seeing them again.

< November 2004 | Main | January 2005 >

December 03, 2004

With a craving for a chocolate croissant and tea from my favourite French cafe, I stopped in at a wonderful outdoor shopping area in Seattle. In the middle of it was The Caring Tree - a very tall and beautiful tree with white lights, white ribbons and white tags all over.

Each tag was from a child in which their name, age, sex and wish was written on. The children were from foster care, to orphanges to child services - basically very needy children.

When I realised what all this was, I just stood there for a moment and wept a little. Here was this beautiful Christmas tree with hundreds of wishes written all over it. It was both beautiful and sad to me.

I went through the tags looking for a gift I could relate to and found a boy of ten wanting Legos. As Chris is a fancier of them I purchased a fantastic little Lego Spiderman set oh his behalf for the little boy. I then found a fifteen year old girl who had only asked for a scarf and this about broke my heart. She asked for something warm and practical - something she ought to have already and not for a splurge at Christmas. So I picked that up and headed over to my favourite store where, using my discount from my seasonal job there, purchased two lovely, colourful, warm, pretty scarves.

I was a little unsure about them because although I thought them fantastic, I didn't know any 15 year old girls and wondered if it would be good enough. I turned and asked the woman waiting in line behind me if she knew any 15 year old girls and she said she did - she was a school teacher and that's what she taught! I explained to her the situation and asked her if these scarves would be appropriate. With a huge smile she said, "Those are fabulous! They're perfect! They're exactly what a fifteen year old girl would want."

And then she added, "You know, I think I'm going to go find something to donate, too."

It was at that moment, for me, the spirit of the holidays began.