alexthegirl

101 Things.

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 21:58:09 -0500

101 Things to Do Before I Die:

1. Go to Mustique Island.
2. Stay at the Bora Bora Beachcomber Inter-Continental
3. Go back to Maui
4. Linger
5. Take an actual vacation (one place, one week, no work, no internet)
6. Produce a film.
7. Donate over a million dollars.
8. Get a pedicure.
9. Own/run a (gluten free) gite in France.
10. Have a maid.
11. Sleep more than 4 hours a night.
12. Ride the Orient Express
13. Fly a plane.
14. Take the Coast Starlight from LA to Seattle.
15. Stay at the Ritz Paris
16. ~~Stay at Hotel Particular Paris~~
17. Have a Four Seasons Residence Membership
18. Throw a massive party extravaganza.
19. Own the best claw foot tub
20. Be healthy.
21. Swoon.
22. See Vienna
23. Do the "Sound of Music" tour
24. Cook more and enjoy it.
25. Have a garden
26. Have a stone home
27. Own the latest Canon Digital Rebel
28. Buy my entire Anthropologie Wishlist at once
29. Never hesitate in buying a book
30. Do a walking tour of Ireland
31. Own a Dior gown.
32. Take my mum on a whirlwind trip to France.
33. Bike in France
34. Do photography for Anthropologie
35. Not move for an entire year.
36. Move back to Europe (Denmark or France).
37. Be met at an airport
38. Do a travel show.
39. Unpack everything.
40. Have my mum live near or with me for a few months a year (ideally have her work with me at my gite!)
41. Take a cover shot.
42. See Victoria Falls and do a safari.
43. Volunteer in Africa.
44. Work with Lonely Planet.
45. Get over my fear of the phone.
46. Own Lightroom.
47. Build a house for someone
48. Make someone else's dream come true.
49. Have lots of people to bake for.
50. Have better and prettier shoes.
51. Travel without having to work at the same time.
52. Build a tree fort.
53. Drive an RV for a week.
54. Take a spa retreat.
55. Make a difference.
56. Condense all my web sites and like at least 1.
57. ~~Speak French without having to hesitate or throw in an English word~~.
58. Make something and sell something, if only 5 things.
59. Buy entire Amazon Wishlist.
60. Love my home, my city, my country and job - all at the same time.
61. Sail the Queen E2 from NY to Southampton.
62. Buy a Four Seasons King Bed.
63. Feel sophisticated.
64. Boogey like it's 1999.
65. Figure out Wordpress.
66. Be in love with everything.
67. Meet Julie Delpy.
68. Work on 100 films.
69. Meet more people when I travel.
70. Hire an assistant
71. Hire a financial planner.
72. Subscribe to Marie Claire Maison.
73. Have a trip planned for me. Even just a day.
74. Find a great gluten-free croissant.
75. Ride a hot air balloon.
76. Be healthy.
77. Make my home 100% green and sustainable.
78. Visit Pompeii
79. See the pyramids.
80. See my nieces.
81. Own some jewelery. Like jewelery.
82. Own a pony. Named pepper.
83. Have a gluten-free chef.
84. Own couture.
85. Zipline
86. Ride on the roof of a train in Equador
87. Have Babycakes again.
88. Have breakfast in bed and then stay there for the day.
89. Learn how to use my camera and take a photography course.
90. Learn how to accept having Celiac and not being able to eat gluten.
91. Find a signature parfume.
92. Get a manicure.
93. Read every book I own (I have a habit of buying without reading)
94. Take a trip with my BFF, Jessica
95. Study and learn more history
96. Have a stocked and large linen closet.
97. Have a dedicated guest room filled with guests.
98. Take Sunday's off.
99. ~~Cook an omelet that's edible~~.
100. Have theme music follow me for a day. Like in a movie.
101. Rest.

Happy Birthday

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 16:12:26 -0600

Today I turn 34 which I'm so very glad for as I must confess 33 was, for lack of a better term, ass. But tonight I'm at an estate built in the 1600's as a summer residence in a beautiful part of Ireland. I've had champagne and gluten free cake with two sets of flowers in my hotel apartment. So far, 34 is promising.

The photo is blurry, I know, but I think it just captures how I've been lately - always in motion. People always ask how I do so much and wonder if it's a sugar daddy or magic pill. The truth is it's just a love of life and lots of doing because I believe life is made up of choice, not circumstance and I choose to do anything and everything I can think of.

There are so many things I want to do, places I want to see, people I want to know that I am always busy either trying to figure out how to do things or doing them. Which often makes for some blurry times but I kind of like it that way. I couldn't be happy just thinking of ideas and wondering how they'd turn out. I wouldn't be happy feeling like I wasn't able to do something because of something else. By choosing not to focus on circumstance or what others say is possible, my life and all that I do is possible.

And it leaves me with this wonderful blurry thing called life.

Ageing

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 00:50:28 -0600

Almost every day I see the same gentleman (who is in his 80's) walk very slowly down the sidewalk. Until he takes notice of me (or any other young woman around) he is supported by his daughter (who is in her 60's). But as soon as he sees me he shoo's her away, stands a little straighter and walks on his own trying to be proud and nonchalant. He always says hi to Jack and I and then once we're passed and I'm out of sight, he returns to his daughter's side. Sometimes I'll hear her say as though she's an embarrassed 16 year old, "Oh Dad, really" when he lets go.

In the video above, I was seventeen years old and now the video is seventeen years old. I can remember every detail of those days - the heat, the way the grass felt, the butterflies in my tummy over crushing, the weight of the trunk on our heads, the beach, her laughter, putting on lipstick for the first time and eating McDonald's French Fries.

Recently I showed this video to my mum who giggled through the whole thing whilst saying over and over, "you haven't changed. Listen to how you giggle, look at those movements and that cheek! So much the same!" When we went through her photos at the same age, I could say the same things about her.

And when we look at the seventeen year old girls we were, we don't see any non-physical differences between the (almost) thirty-four year old woman I've become and the (almost) sixty-four year old woman she's become. Despite there being all those years between us and our younger selves, there's actually none at all. We have the same heart, the same mannerisms, the same ideals, the same sense of fun, the same of love of life. We're just young girls who dream big, hope for the best but are just a little older and a little bit physically changed.

A man in his 90's once said to me, "I'm just a 22 year old guy caught up in this old man's body. I'm not so wise and put together as everyone assumes I am just because I'm old. I'm not stuffy or boring. I'm fun, alive with dreams, too and I still want to chase the girls. I don't know how to be in this body. I just know how to be 22. And I miss it."

I think of that every time I meet someone in that age range - that they're just young people in an older body but who we are is who we are. This has given me happiness in the past little while for I thought I was getting further away from myself when, like Dorothy, I was there all along. I just, for awhile, became someone else I didn't recognise. Luckily, I do now.

Parking Lot Sign

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 03:45:06 -0600

The Santa Monica Sunday Market is always busy making parking - which is already rare - even more of a premium. I turned off main street to park in the public lot behind, hopeful that I'd find parking so I could run into my favourite pet food store to pick something up. I usually do because I don't focus on the full lot but on one spot to open. And it always does.

As I turned in, a man about 50 in an expensive, flashy convertible stopped in front. It looked like he would get a lucky day as one car pulled out of a very full lot. However, as the car was getting ready to pull out, I noticed on the other incoming side a car of women who also thought they were going to get that spot. When convertible man saw this he began to yell not very nice things to them.

The way the parked car pulled out ended up blocking convertible man and in went the car of women. Convertable man was not happy about this and kept his car stopped so he could continue to yell not so nice things to the women. As he did this a woman walked past him and said, "Sir, you can stop, I'm pulling out right here."

And that should have ended it. But he was angry and had to be right.

So while he waited for the other woman to pull out, he kept yelling at the all the women that pulled in - including a 6 year old child. He was so busy yelling at them that he didn't notice the other woman pulling out but he did notice another car from the opposite side pull in.

Now he was very angry.

He had been screwed over once, and rather than let it go he focused on it so much that when a second opportunity presented itself, he couldn't take it. All he could do was park his car, get out and chase both parties down to yell about how they were all his spot.

So there he was, standing still, unhappy, looking ridiculous and without parking. One spot taken, another missed. So busy focusing on that which made him angry that he kept himself from seeing something that he needed open up right in front of him.

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 17:15:19 -0600

My secret beach in Carmel had beautiful, tall trees and flowers that kept trying to grow amongst the white sandy beaches. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. I'd go here when I needed to feel the same.

Then last week rough weather approached and for a few days the secret beach was dark and clung to desperately to its winter beauty. The clouds rolled over the regular beach, too, creating massive waves and ominous skies. But the beach, though darker, was unchanged. Although the winds and waves were kicking up, the white sand tried so hard to stay, hiding things underneath while letting selective things grow. It wasn't ready for the change and tried to pretend nothing was happening.

It's just winds and waves said the beach and those who came - this is how it always is. You think something will happen but really, it doesn't. We pretend to ooh and ahh and watch the show but truthfully, it's just show.

But then a storm really came; trees were down, power was out for two days, hurricane winds pelted down over 6 inches of rain in 24 hours. The view from my flat was usually beautiful but I couldn't see through the rain or clouds and at night it was pitch black with no solace from a candle. It was an isolating, scary and humbling three day period because no one was really prepared.

When the worst of the storm was over the dog and I were itching to walk and so to our beach we went, expecting just to see some big waves and dark skies as before. Yet when we arrived we found the beach very much changed.

It was bare - there were no people or beach; just new cliffs with a small bit of sand below full of seaweed. It wasn't safe to walk on, it smelled bad from everything washing out - then back - to shore. It was in transition and no one - and nothing - wanted to be there. And so we left wondering if it would ever be the same as before.

Of course it wouldn't. Nothing stays the same after a storm.

A few more days later I went back to the beach and found it once again transformed but this time, into something much more beautiful and interesting. The cliffs were still there but now gave way to a new kind of beach. One that lacked all the comforting soft white sand and instead now had boulders everywhere that were hidden for who knows how long. They were beautiful, mysterious, filled with life in all their nooks and crannies.

And they were slowly being discovered by people who had returned after the storm and wanted to see the beauty of change.

Usually it's a quick walk on the beach but today the dog and I lingered, even played. We got trapped on boulders, walked through the cold water, talked with some surfers who loved the new waves. I marveled at how quickly it had changed.

Even though the storm was scary terribly scary to be in and the transformation of the beach was hard to watch at first (I was sad to see my struggling flowers die), it produced a dramatic change back to what it once was. It just did it; no gathering of people to dig away the sand, no permission to get, no questions asked if it was ready - it just did it.

And that doing produced an old beach that had been hidden for so long and made it new again for itself and those who came to it. It became a beach that truthfully, was a little more fun than the last.

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 22:52:15 -0600

It's not in me to wear a yellow slicker during storms but I still go out in them. I prefer not to wear hiking shoes whilst hiking yet have been to the top of more mountains than anyone I know. I don't like pants when using power tools or putting up dry wall. It's just not in me to be in anything other than a skirt or dress.

But people are often uncomfortable with this. I have friends who, for years, have tried to fit me in jeans or make me "hip." Girlfriends who think because I wear a dress that twirls I'm prissy when I am only wearing one layer to their 5 (who put more thought in and worries more? Not I). There is an assumption because I dress like a girl, I must be limited to phrases such as "princess" and only wear pink. I have never used the word princess and I don't own anything pink.

My adoration for dresses and skirts come for my love of pretty and my laziness. They're easy, versatile and simply, me. And they've made me a target of a lot of people's jokes, assumptions and insecurities. But that hasn't ever changed how I feel about them.

Besides, wearing them on blustery days has given me great reflexes.

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 13:08:48 -0600

It seems as though everyone looks for "signs" as whether to do something or not. Let the stars guide me, they say. They'll randomly flip through passages of books to find "words of meaning" and direction. They'll count to 10 and if a bell rings they know to move forward. Everyone just wanting reassurance from some other super force that they're on the right track.

But what I've noticed is when people look for "signs" they're really only looking for the "yes." No one really looks for the "no." If they don't get a sign, they try a new trick. Show me a sign that he loves me! I need a sign if I should move! Give me a sign to take that job! But if nothing happens, almost no one every takes it as a no. They just simply look for another sign.

I've always believed that when you ask advice, you're really just looking for confirmation of what you already know but you're just not ready to hear it. Sometimes I wonder if all the "sign seekers" already know the answer, too, but just aren't ready to accept that they already have the answer and the power.

Sun, 28 Oct 2007 01:06:45 -0500

At a restaurant the other night I saw at a table just a bit away a man I once knew years ago. And when I say knew I mean that we were, for a few weeks, on set together and our interactions were always brief but always enjoyable. We never divulged personal information or had each over for holidays but we shared stories and laughed during the time we worked together. And I can remember almost every day so clearly and so many of the funny little thing's he'd do - not in a smitten kitten way but because somehow even the mundane was interesting with him.

My first reaction upon seeing him was to say Hi and reconnect. But I hesitated; he wouldn't remember me and if I just start talking like we know each other he'll think I'm a crazy fan. Or if I ask about that project he wanted to want to do he'll wonder why I remember that after all these years - am I a stalker? A loser? A User? So I kept to myself, not even mentioning to anyone at the table that over there was a man I once knew.

However, about thirty minutes later he approached and asked me if I'd ever lived in Vancouver. Yes, I said, for a few years in the mid-90's. Then he smiled and said, "So nice to see you after all this time, Alex. Do you still have that skirt?"

This man is an A-List celebrity; he has met thousands of people from around the world as is bombarded with people daily. Yet he remembered a skirt I'd worn on set (it had layers and layers), a very bad joke the director told to us, the wiggly worm dance (you'd have to see it), the mittens, and the little cafe nearby that made the foam just so. When he recounted these events he did so with ease, as if remembering is just what we're supposed to do and not traits of a crazy, loser, stalker user person. But just a fundamental human curiosity.

I remember so many details from years ago; about people, places, polka dots on wallpaper, the way the light hit, that dirty joke. I fall in-love with the little things, people's mannerisms, moments in the every day but feel like I'm not supposed to. To remember or even notice in the first place has become a sign of obsession, weirdness, boredom, loneliness. After all, if you're busy it means you must be doing well and if you have time to remember it means you're not.

I'm busy, I've done a lot but I remember because I'm present with each and every person I talk to and am extraordinarily curious (probably far too much for my own good). I don't half-ass this life - not even an every day conversation. That's off putting to a lot of people (especially in LA when you're always supposed to be looking for the next cooler person to talk to. But when I'm talking to you, I'm talking to you. When I'm writing, I'm writing. When I'm walking I look around and because of that I just notice so many things and just simply don't forget.

But it's not cool to care, it's not hip to pay attention, it's not top dog to notice others. So I have learned to keep quiet about all the little things I remember - especially about people. I can fall in-love so easily with little things about people and miss them almost the moment they're gone. But I don't think they'd ever know it as I'm told by most people I come off as aloof. However, I'm anything but. It's why I still have a little note attached to the book that isn't really all that interesting or funny; it's just the thought of the note, the effort of the note, that is charming to me. And I want to remember the good of where that came from. Sounds crazy, no?

But after spending the evening dishing with my friend, my friend who should be Far. Too. Important. And. Busy. to remember the layers of skirt I once had, I felt a bit better about all the details I hold back on sharing. Not full on ease but perhaps I'll send a note back or ask someone about the event that they probably don't even think I heard them talking about.

Bowling Day

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 19:27:08 -0500

This past spring/summer I worked with a company as a "Director of Community and Talent Acquisitions." Fancy! It was to help get experts into different web sites and build out community on the web. Working with the company's content team, we rocked out.

As a reward the VP offered to take us to the movies. Uh, no. That is no fun and fun was what we needed. So I offered bowling - what could be more fun? Just watch and you tell me:

Yes - those are wrist sweat bands! My team had them and I swear, they gave us magic powers. Video taken by Pixie and myself - apologies for the sideways shots we had no idea. Editing by me and fun had by all.

PS: Foxy makes an appearance - she's everywhere!

Fri, 31 Aug 2007 23:47:04 -0500

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near -

"Ah," said the fox. "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so." Said the fox.

From my favourite book, The Little Prince (the original version - not the one with the blue cover).

Foxy with Whip

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 05:49:58 -0500

I was working with a company this past spring, creating a "Director of Community & Talent Acquisitions" role, building out a media product and working my ass off. But hard work always has to be balanced by fun or what's the point? And why work with people if you don't really connect and laugh with them? So one day a trip to the toy store was taken so that an attack on the financial guys could be sprung. The lead? Miss Foxy With Whip herself - a wonderful girl who I gave the (much deserved) nickname to.

The only thing is, we weren't prepared to be attacked back.

Music editing by me, giggles by me but fun had by all.

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 23:24:58 -0500

I had been in LA only a month but that was all it took to encounter one very bad haircut. So when I saw someone with gorgeous hair I asked her where she got it cut - Jessica Tingley at Frederic Fekkai was her answer. That was enough for me to go to the salon. Jessica was more than enough to keep me coming back.

Instantly we hit it off; the dirty jokes came out first cut, the laughter kept going and some kind of connection just happened. But she was now my stylist and I didn't think that line could be crossed. Especially since there is that cliche saying in Hollywood "your friends are the ones you pay." I didn't want that to happen.

So for three years I'd look forward to going to the salon (a first since I hate it) until one day she said to me, "You know, I really want to be your friend and hang out."

"Me too!"

And there we were.

Why it took 3 years for us to get the courage up to say "I like you, let's be friends" is beyond me. Fear of rejection, of crossing some stupid line, of not being cool enough - they're all inane whatever they might be.

Oddly though, I still tend to feel this way when I encounter someone I immediately adore and what to have coffee with. But usually my shy self just remains "knowing" them instead of befriending. I often then wonder how many great people am I missing out on, simply because I haven't said, "I want to be your friend."

Denmark Photos

Mon, 18 Jun 2007 02:15:07 -0500

I've talked often about how I don't give actual gifts but instead the gift of time. For my mothers birthday, I decided to give her the gift of travel and took her back to Denmark with me to celebrate both our birthdays (which are two days apart).

I arranged for us to fly into New York first, stay a couple of days to discover the city (and say a hullo to some of my dear friends) and then fly out to Copenhagen to take the city by storm (only we did not know it would be so literal...!).

For two weeks we drove all over the country; saw old homes, old friends and family. There was a lot of family I'd never met but they welcomed me just the same. Each time saying, "you are so like your mum." This made both of us smile.

I fell in-love with Copenhagen all over again. I fell in-love with girls in dresses biking in the dead of winter. I fell in love with coffee at 10PM and the candles all over. I fell in-love with being snowed in, my cousin's cat, and that feeling of hygge that is just so Danish.

We spent the last night at the Hotel D'Angeleterre - Denmark's finest. Somehow we stayed in the H.C. Andersen room - someone I greatly adore and secretly wish to be like (but without some of the messy bits, thanks). It was a fitting farewell and we were both sad to be leaving, because really, we'd both wanted to stay.

But to New York for one last night and then her off to one destination and I off to another. And there we were; two Danish girls who had a marvelous trip and who were already planning their return.

Thu, 26 Apr 2007 01:53:38 -0500

I have, at the very least, been on 27 flights since 2007 began. That's about 26 more than I'd like; I'm not a flyer. But I am the sort that likes to see new things and create experiences. So despite the fear, I keep booking flights, printing my boarding pass, and pray to little baby Jesus that nothing will happen.

And, truthfully, nothing bad ever does. The fear, the build up, it's always for nothing. The plane touches down as do I and I begin my walk towards the new and always glad I came.

So here's to one more flight next week. A one way ticket back home, home for at least awhile. Home to where things are brand new {new flat, new job, new eyes}. Am I scared? Well, I'm not a flyer but oh, how do I love to see and do new things...

Birthday - 33

Sat, 17 Feb 2007 08:35:23 -0600

Today is my 33rd birthday and I'm in Copenhagen to celebrate it. So far, 33 is pretty wonderful.