North Hollywood

Here I am.

Word on the street is, the American movie makers come to Vancouver for the remarkable tax cuts. Hooey, says I. While the tax cuts are no doubt a positive benefit for any multi-million dollar production you don't see a rush of Hollywood natives showing up in places like Winnipeg, Calgary or, I don't know...Iqaluit every Summer. And those places would bend over backwards to let Michael Bay and his cronies waltz in, shut down some streets and blow stuff up. No, a place has to have more going for it than a wee savings scheme.

What Vancouver has, that most major cities don't, is an incredible level of variety. In terms of filming locations one could scarcely ask for a better spot. Sure, you could head East to Louisiana, which also boasts large tax benefits for the celluloid crowd, but your filming locations are restricted to alligator infested wetlands, some old French buildings and farmer McCready's farm house which gets blown to bits every Spring by the annual hurricane(s). Vancouver, on the other hand, has *almost* everything you could want, mountains, beaches, forests, a central city which could be any major U.S city and an assortment of architecture (it lacks a desert, but just head back to California and you'll be sure to find one or two).

But what if say, you want to be filming your big New York style action scene one day, and don't feel like traveling six hours to the nearest small town to get your poignant ending where the character returns home the next? Less than one hour drive from central Vancouver (or three bus rides and two trains, if I'm going from personal experience) is the picturesque town of Fort Langley. Fort Langley has certainly tailored itself to give off the small town feel, but drive through the open farm land to get there, then walk down the main street (populated with Fort Langely natives all saying friendly hello's to one another) and stop at in at the 50's style diner and tell me you don't think you're in Mayberry or Bear Creek.

Naturally, there are a multitude of reasons why Hollywood packs it's Botox and cocaine for the yearly migration to versatile Vancouver. A short (and cheap) plane trip from L.A, the wealth of different ethnicities (it's hard to sell it as downtown L.A when all your extras are whiter than snow), the leniency of the local government (including those low taxes), but most of all it's the old triple pronged alliteration, location, location...you know the rest.


Kiwi

Let's Call The Whole Thing Off

Though Kiwi and I had been long time friends before we met in person, we had only begun to chat via Skype video in the early days of our "courtship" in late Spring of last year. I had known Kiwi was from New Zealand but even still the first few times we spoke (or rather he did) was amusing to me because of the accent.

Since then my amusement has lessened, but every now and again I will giggle when a foreign word pops up in his dialogue. I've noticed, since arriving in Canada, Kiwi will unknowingly confuse strangers or friends with these words. In some cases I've even had to translate if I see they do not understand.

The most common translation I seem to offer is not even a foreign word at all. Kiwi's surname has given him the most trouble, not by unfamiliarity, but by pronunciation. As a Canadian, the kiwi accent can often be mistook for an Australian or even English if you have not been exposed to it much. The "ar" phonics in Canadian converts to "ahh" in a kiwi accent. For example, in Canadian, "Where's the carr?" Kiwi has noticed that Canadians put a lot of emphasis on "r"s. In a kiwi accent, "Weere's the caa?" And even more confusing in Australian, "Wiiis the caaa?" So when providing information to a stranger, Kiwi will sometimes forget to end his surname with an "arr" instead of an "ahh" and hilarity ensues. To hear him attempt a Canadian "arr" is like someone doing a terrible cowboy impersonation.

We will often have cheeky battles regarding words like the cliche "toe-matt-o" instead of "toe-may-toe" and "zebb-rah" instead of "zee-bra."

Kiwi's words have integrated into my vocabulary and I find myself using them more than the Canadian counterparts. I am unsure if it is for his convenience or for the small joy of knowing we share a secret language.

Some of my favourites:

Trolley = Shopping Cart
Faff = Fool/Kick around
Purse = Female Wallet
Egg = Idiot (or something equivalent)
Fanny = A woman's genitals. You can imagine my amusement when he told me the story of when he and his sister first saw the intro to "The Nanny."

I've noticed our differences have brought us closer than our similarities. The small things we learn about one another each day have a stronger significance than if we had all the same favourite movies. Each day we grow a little closer and a little more in love.




-Strawberry

The Hunt Continues

Kiwi wont post anything unless it's planned out for days, or particularly interesting. Me, on the other hand, find some compelling reason to type out everything. A release maybe? Something creative? A small accomplishment in the sea of continuous "to do"s? It might be a few days before he decides to try this out, so until then you'll just have to deal with me. 

Kiwi and I are discussing the possibility of moving to a new place. While we do enjoy our space now, there are things about it we would like to change (the big, black, hairy legged roommates are one of the many things.) Each new place we live in will always have those "if only"s, but there is something lacking in this space. We don't really have a table. A small bistro set with two chairs that I think we used once or twice to actually dine. It's more the "catchall" at the moment. Separate spaces, or more of an area to entertain or have my parents for dinner.

Our bedroom now is my favourite spot in our cozy 900sq ft. place. A window on two sides of the walls, and a bathroom that connects directly to it. Most people think that the bathroom being connected right to the bedroom is a bad thing. People who visit have to cut through the bedroom to go to the bathroom. I am in heaven when I can walk right out of the shower to my dresser and get changed. I don't have to run freezing down the hall and around a corner to my closet, or take my clothes into the bathroom with me. As was the case with the place we went to view last night.

A bit farther away than we would have liked, the quiet house was cute and spacious. It seemed like there was transit, but not as convenient or close as it is here for Kiwi. The distance from the place to Kiwi's work was the same, but on an opposite side, farther from the freeway and my parent's place.

The living area was HUGE. I'm not going to lie, Kiwi and I would have accepted that place for the living room alone if it weren't for the other shortcomings. The living room itself was as big as both our tv area and kitchen combined, and had a beautiful working gas fireplace. The floor plan separated everything into neat little areas which was exactly what I wanted, and the price was perfect.

Another thing Kiwi and I have a great love for is trees. Big, evergreen, British Columbia trees. There were a great deal of them in the neighbourhood. You could smell them immediately. It was as if the trees made the street cozier and welcoming. 

But no dishwasher was an immediate deal breaker for me. The bathroom (with a miniature tub) was attached to the kitchen and on the other side of the suite around a corner and down a hall was the bedroom. I don't feel too happy about walking through my entire house including the kitchen in a bathrobe every day. The bedroom wasn't something I was thrilled about either. No windows and no space. A huge change for me when currently our bedroom holds a great deal of our things and has room to spare.

Our smiles were quickly replaced by analyzing criticism when we got in the car. Picking it apart on the way home, appreciating a great deal more what we want in a space. As individuals, and as a couple.

"It's a nice place, but it's not for us." I said as we stopped at a light. "Not for us." Kiwi echoed. I patted his leg and the light turned green.

-Strawberry

Dome Treasure

I fell in love with thrifting a little while ago. I have always been interested, but until now my fashion style wasn't vintage clothing appropriate. Thanks to Urban Outfitters and more and more blogs popping up with great vintage outfits, I feel at home donning a tacky sweater with a great long necklace.

I am also obsessed with decorating my house. Trinkets, art and dishes constantly come home with me to furnish our comfortable 900sq ft. suite.

I saw this piece at the store at the beginning of the week and knew I might regret it if I didn't go back for it. Making it out and back just in time to pick Kiwi up from work with this tucked neatly behind my driver's seat.

  

The star under the glass dome is from our Christmas tree. I don't have any storage in this suite, so I've sort of improvised on my home decor. Let's just say there are a lot of owls around.

Similar domes have been sold on etsy for more than what I paid for this one, and they were smaller! I consider it an investment. I have a dumb girlie thought of putting my wedding cake under it, should that moment ever occur. 

-Strawberry

Hello!

This blog is for family, friends and people who share our interests. Kiwi has family back home in New Zealand and I have friends from all over that might be interested in how/what we are doing.

Kiwi came to Canada to start a new life with me, and so we will document living and loving together.

-Strawberry