The Accidental Olympian

QUARTER CENTURY

I survived the last 25 years of life. I have learned many lessons, encountered many wonderful and strange people along this journey, and in reaching this milestone I can't help but feel the urge to sum up my life. Define myself. Stand on the rooftop and scream, "THIS IS WHO I AM!" 

But how?

Ponders... there is much pacing, head scratching and looking to the sky for answers.

AH-HA!

It can be done!

Feast your eyes on this. Me in all my glory, blowing out my matchbook 'candle' in my 25th birthday rice crispy treat.

Yep.

I'm thinking that pretty much sums me RIGHT up.

Any questions?

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

HI. MY NAME IS ASHLEY, & I'M A CONTROL FREAK.

Before I lost my job, and relocated to a city I had never even visited I was a self proclaimed, complete, and utter control freak. Going to a college on the quarter system was basically like living on Panic Attack Alley. I loved having a schedule, and I never wanted it to change. I knew what time I needed to leave for class, when I ate lunch, when I worked on homework, when I went to work, when I hung out, what nights I could stay up, and what nights I needed to hit the sack early. Then a mere ten weeks into my life routine, BAM! New classes, new schedule, new routine. HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME? Every ten weeks it was like the University of Washington was out to get me. I would feel uneasy, almost sick to my stomach for at least the first week of EACH quarter simply because suddenly I had new classes to attend at different times than the previous quarter.

I could tell if you came over and borrowed a book without asking. I would go into the dishwasher and reorganize the way my roommate had loaded it because things looked wrong. THIS IS ME, RELOADING MY DISHWASHER BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE WHERE YOU PUT THE CUPS. That's enough to force me to take medication if you ask me. I wanted to pick the music at a social gathering, I always wanted to drive, vacations caused stress instead of relaxation, I had my future planned out to the T, and moving, well moving was enough to make me want to crawl under the covers and not emerge for a whole month.

 

And then I lost my job. There is no better way in the whole world to shake control issues out of a person than completely turning their life on its ass. I no longer had control of ANYTHING. Couldn't get my old job back, couldn't convince people in interviews to hire me, couldn't stand out among the 600 other applicants applying for an ADMIN job (no seriously, one admin job I applied for had 600 applicants), and I couldn't even pay my own rent. There is no bigger shit storm for a control freak. 

I was in a panic. Sobbing, tearing my hair out, depressed, can't get out of bed, didn't want to eat, there are munchkins under my bed planning a revolt so I can't leave my room kind of panic. And yet, as the time went on, and I kept not finding a job, and I kept finding a way to get out of bed and put clothes on, I began to give in to it all. Gave in to the fact that I didn't do anything to deserve this, this wasn't a karmic payback for throwing the neighbors troll in the bushes and laughing when I was 7. This was simply life, and I needed to deal. NOW.

 

Unemployment has done a lot to the shape of my life. On the exterior you can see it forced me out of book publishing, forced me out of my apartment, forced me to move to Olympia. But at the same time, it also forced me to CHILL THE FUCK OUT. And now that the panic has subsided, now that the flood of tears have stopped, and life continues to go on, I'm actually thankful for loosing my job. If nothing else, I have learned how to tell that little demon in my head to take a chill pill and go bother someone who cares.

 

UNEMPLOYED AND STARTING OVER

Hi. I’m Ashley. A 23, (soon to be 24) year old woman with a life I never thought would be my own. Sounds cliché I know, but hear me out.

In the Fall of 2003 I left my small hometown of Santa Ynez, CA and moved to Seattle to attend the University of Washington, or as the hip kids call it, UW. I had the typical college experience, lived in the dorms, lived in a sorority for a nano-second, drank too much, and learned about enlightening topics such as a squirrels ability to calculate which fallen nuts will provide optimal energy. No seriously, squirrels can count. I kissed boys, I fell in love, I fell out of love, made friends, lost friends, went to class, skipped class, basically, had a blast. I was dedicated, always had a job, even an internship or two, and when I graduated my dream job was mine. I was a 22-year-old college graduate living in the city of my dreams working in book publishing as a publicity and marketing assistant. Score one point for Ms. Ashley.

Then something happened. I got laid off. Laid off two days after I had a conversation with a coworker how I didn’t think I had yet to personally feel the affects of our failing economy. I actually told her I thought it was more hype than reality. HA! Jokes on me. That life-changing day was December 5th, 2008.

I assumed that although my world seemed to be shattered, I would carry on without much of a hitch. I mean damn it, I’m mother fucking ASHLEY. I get every job I’ve ever interviewed for. I have jobs created for me out of thin air because I’m that good. I am God of the Work Force and I will have a new job by the end of January, I told myself.

HA again.

Three full months of hitting the pavement and there was still nothing. Zip. Zilch. So, like any jobless fool would do, I weighted my options and realized it was time to make a change.

When it looked like my options were become a prostitute or move home, my boyfriend offered to let me join him on his relocation journey to Olympia, WA. After much wavering, some tears, and many many moments of confusion I finally said, “What the hell,” and jumped.

Now I’m here trying something new, starting over, and discovering what it means to live in Olympia with this freakishly foreign life.

But Ashley, what does that even mean? I mean what’s this blog really about?

Well I guess it’s about me, moving here, about what it means to find your life shattered in a moment, about redefining yourself, about relocation, about the pain of the job hunt, about starting over, the struggle of being bone crushingly poor, about making friends, and mostly about watching as one scared/confused/lost/excited/bewildered woman tries to reboot and rebuild.

My message might get lost sometimes, and my spelling will ALWAYS be questionable, but it will always be me, the Accidental Olympian.