The Accidental Olympian

SQUATTERS

Normally when you move into a new place the first day you live there you bring everything you own into the house, and over the next couple days or even weeks you slowly unpack and make your house feel like your own.

Not Adam and I. 

Because our things were moved using a moving company sent from Olympia, WA to Anchorage, AK on a barge, our stuff was packed up a week before we left Olympia, and we wont see our things again until this Tuesday. Making it almost three weeks without 95% of our things. 

I have been living with the same one weeks worth of clothes for so long that once my things show up I'm highly contemplating taking everything in my suitcase and just donating it. If I never wear these things again it will be too soon. I bought a pair of earings the other day at Target hoping that by adding something new to the same two outfits I've been wearing might make me feel less like stabing someone each morning when I get dressed. 

It helped. 

A little. 

 

 

When we were living with nearly nothing in our empty house in Olympia it wasn't too bad. We felt the excitment of leaving on our journey, and we were still in our familiar home, plus we'd only done the nomad squatter thing for a few days, so the irriation of it all hadn't set in yet.  

But now we're in this unfamiliar house, we can't unpack because well, we have nothing to unpack, and we feel like we're squatting in an empty house that we broke into while the owners are gone on vacation. Yesterday our landlord got the carpets cleaned, which was nice, except for the fact that we couldn't put anything on the carpets for 24 hours. Which meant we had to move our air bed into the living room right next to our dog crates, camping chairs and camp table.

SLUMBER PARTY! 

Comfy, no? 

Making dinner in any real sense of the word is impossible, so if it can't be cooked in its own packaging and eaten from the same container, we should probably just eat out again. Also, I'm so sick of using camping kitchen gear. I may never camp again out of sheer disgust for our camping supplies. 

There is one bright spot in this whole squatting in our own home thing, even though the fish are set up on the floor in a fairly white trash manner waiting patiently for their stand to arrive, at least they're still alive!

Is it Tuesday yet? 

WHAT CHRISTMAS LOOKS LIKE TO ME

What does Christmas look like to you this year?

I would really like to keep the holiday cheer going, so share your post (words or pictures, I'm not picky!) about what Christmas (or even the holidays, EVERYONE CAN PLAY!) looks like to you this year and share the links.

I've never done this before, so to add your post to the holiday list below click on the link that says, "Click here to enter," to fill out the title of your post and the url.

Who knows. I might have set this up all wrong.

But who cares, it's almost CHRISTMAS!

If people really play along I'll do a round up of some of my favorites on Christmas.

If I'm not in a food coma that is.

I make no promises.

 

AHHHHHH, HOMEOWNERSHIP

I remember the days of being a renter. Calling an office number and leaving messages that your dryer wasn't working any longer, that the bathroom light was out, asking if someone might be able to come over later and unclog your bathroom tub drain. There was a problem, and thankfully someone else was going to handle it.

Homeownership means that when the dryer is acting up Adam has to crawl inside it. When the bathroom light is out, we replace it, and when the bathroom tub is clogged I nearly DIE from the horror that is pulling out a softball sized wad of my own hair from the drain.

But really, homeownership really isn't all bad.

At least now I don't have to deal with some letchy dude tinkering around in my bathroom while I'm trying to watch reruns of Gilmore Girls telling me how much he likes my shower curtain while he gives me more than a once over with his bloodshot eyes.

Now if Adam starts getting fresh I can throw something at him and tell him to get back to work already and fix the damn dryer so we can finish our laundry already.

So yeah, I guess I'd call that progress.

OH THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

Shauna of Fido & Wino was inspired by Donaree.com who was inspired by yes and yes (confused yet?) to write a post breaking down all the various places they've lived throughout their lives.

So, following in the tradition of being inspired by others, I too want to break down the many homes of Miss Ashley. Not sure if you give a rats ass, but I liked making this list. It made me think of fun times, and memories, and smiles, and lately, I need all the happy fun time smiles I can get.

Give a girl a break ok?



(0-4) SANTA BARBARA, CA - Born in SB and brought home to our little blue house. I don't remember much about actually living here, except that my sister Emmaly and I met here and I instantly resented the screaming thing that took away all the attention. I do remember that you had to walk through the master bedroom to get to the backyard, and once during a serious drought Emmaly and I went 'swimming' on the back porch in a 5 gallon bucket of water. Together. It's the most Grapes of Wrath picture I've ever seen of my sister and I. Seeing as all the good baby pictures live with my parents in California, you'll have to do with a 4 or so year old me, hanging out in front of our house. Damn I have great hair.





(4-5) BUELLTON, CA -- Before I started kindergarten we moved 45 minutes north of SB to the Santa Ynez Valley. Our first house was on a golf course, which seems nice, until my mom had a soda hit out of her hands by a rogue golf ball, and my dad took a ball to the back. It's hard to enjoy a summer night when you're worried about being killed by a crazy golf ball.


(5-6) BUELLTON, CA -- My parents with their young children liked the little Rancho De Maria development with its quaint golf course and park, but weren't a fan of all the killer golf balls so we moved down the street. We lived across the street from the park and the neighborhood was teaming with kids my age. We roamed like wild animals though the neighborhood, and the friends I made at 6 years old stayed with me through a big portion of middle school, junior high, and even high school. One I still consider a dear friend to this day.


(6-18) BUELLTON, CA -- Sick of being renters, we moved into the house my parents still reside in. Kindergarten through graduation of High School I slept in the little 10x10ft window on the right. First kisses, first boyfriends, learning to drive, sneaking out, getting in trouble for drinking, first breakups, proms, graduations, all took place in that house.



(Freshman Year) UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON DORMS -- A room, 12 feet by 12 tiny little feet I shared with a perfect stranger for an entire school year. The dorms were the weirdest, and most amazing time for me in college. Mercer 4 East for life.



(Sophomore Year) SORORITY THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED BECAUSE I VAGUELY REMEMBER WHEN I WALKED OUT SOMETHING ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO SAY WHAT HOUSE I HAD JOINED BECAUSE I WAS A DESERTER OR SOMETHING. THERE MIGHT HAVE ALSO EVEN BEEN IDOL THREATS OF CROWS PLUCKING OUT MY EYES OR SOMETHING RIDICULOUS IF I TOLD. MAYBE IT WAS JUST 7 YEARS BAD LUCK? LEAVE ME ALONE, I WAS DRUNK A LOT THAT YEAR IT IS ALL A LITTLE FUZZY-- Want to try something weird? Sleep in a room that is 24 hour dark, 24 hour quiet, filled with bunk beds for 32 girls. Keep all your clothes in a closet in the room of two upperclassmen who don't really like you because you're coming into their room at 6am to get dressed and hello, they met you like 5 minutes ago.  Also, live in a house with 90 other women for a year. Extra points if you get drunk at a frat house, make friends with campus police, and bring them back to your sorority for hot cocoa. Someone take a picture of the faces of the upperclassmen because that shit is priceless and you probably wont remember it in the morning. WOW. Glad I did it though. The stories I can tell!

(Summer between Sophomore & Junior Year)  SEATTLE, WA -- You thought living in a sorority sounds weird? Try living in a frat for a summer. Tequila Tuesdays, foam parties, green shag carpet with dark blue walls, Kamikaze matrices, group showers, Christmas in July parties, beer pong, movie night, 80's night, cocktail parties, cooking bacon wrapped chicken on a George Foreman grill on the floor of our room, storing all our dishes in the top drawer of our dresser, beds suspended from the ceiling with chain link, finding strangers in your bed when you get home from work, being ridiculous every single day, also known as the BEST SUMMER OF MY ENTIRE LIFE.


 

 

(Junior Year) SEATTLE, WA 22nd St -- My first apartment. Small, dirty, and a 4th floor walk up. My roomie LP and I were the only ones to make it from signing the lease till moving out. Roommates came and went every couple months, and once I came home to my roommates shooting fire crackers off the balcony, they'd put my food and my flowers in a blender and were throwing the mash on the ceiling. Oh, college.



(Senior Year) SEATTLE, WA -- The basement apartment. Located in the heart of the greek system, and next door to a frat with a pool. It was not uncommon for me to wake up to the sound of someone peeing on my basement level window. But, I loved that little mold cave because it was big, and quiet, and no one put my flowers in the blender while I was at work. But my roomie and I did rewatch all the episodes of The Gilmore Girls, and frequently had sandwiches delivered to our apartment at 3am, so we had obviously matured to a higher level of functioning.
 

(Super Senior Year - February 2009) SEATTLE, WA MADISON PARK -- The most amazing apartment in the history of the world. On Lake Washington. Four of my closest friends living in the same complex. A pool. BBQ pits. Black and white tile kitchen floors and crown moulding on the ceiling. Walking to Madison Beach Park on a summer day to swim in the lake, stop in at the Red Apple if you got hungry. Wine on the patio. Finally feeling like an adult.



(February 2009 - March 2009) SEATTLE, WA UPPER MADISON PARK -- Squatting with all my things in boxes in the middle of Adam's living room before we moved to Olympia. For the first month we lived together we literally stepped over junk to move through the one bedroom apartment. Simply biding our time and waiting to see where we'd head next. The fact we're still together after that mess is amazing.



(March 2009 - TODAY!) OLYMPIA, WA -- I was an unemployed hack, Adam was a newly promoted superstar, and before we knew it we lived together, in a new city, and were crazy home owners. The most impulsive decision I've ever made, and yeah, sometimes I wondered in the beginning when we were arguing about picture frames if we made a HUGE mistake. But now almost two years later it's all rainbows and smiles at the Olympia home. Well, smiles and rainbows when I'm not laying in bed sobbing because summer is over and the gloomies are threatening to eat me alive. But you get the picture!





FUN STUFF!

Now please break your life down. I want to know which of my blog buddies has moved around the most. I think Shauna is in the lead. Canada, Japan, Amsterdam!

AN OFFICE, REDONE. KINDA?

When I agreed to become a home owner with Adam over a year ago I never imagined there would be so much physical labor involved. I have a feeling I might have reconsidered signing my name on that huge pile of paper had I known that I was actually signing up for a lifetime of ladder holding, painting, repairing, bending, dragging, and building.

Most recently, while watching tv Adam discovered what he described to me to be a 'nail pop'. Or more importantly, like a million 'nail pops'. This apparently is something that happens when homes like mine are mass produced, and to save money contractors attach the ceiling drywall with nails instead of drywall screws. After he explained this to me I fell over dead of extreme boredom. Forgive me for doing the same to you.

Turned out we couldn't allow these nails to slide back through the ceiling.

I thought nails peeking through the ceiling added character to the house, personally.

Adam did not share in my feelings.

This lead to Adam walking around and repairing the nail pops. This also meant suddenly we had a lot of paint throughout the house to retouch, seeing has he had cut out small holes in the ceiling, pulled nails out with pliers, screwed in new screws, and made a general mess. IE, the paint was f-ed up.

But that's ok, I can handle retouching. Much better than REPAINTING. Right?

So there I was, watching Adam being handy and I was perfectly ok with retouching rooms throughout the house because it would mean a blob of paint here or there, and TA-DA we'd be finished. My excitement lasted only a moment though because we quickly realized that the previous owners kept cans of paint in the garage not to allow us to actually RETOUCH the walls, but to simply MOCK US. They left us cans and cans of paint all in colors not actually used ANYWHERE IN THE HOUSE.

Please tell me why the fuck you would do something like this?

To screw with the future owners?

Am I living in the homeowners version of Punk'd?

Needless to say, after going through the house and repairing nail pops we have now been forced to repaint entire rooms in nearly the exact same shade as they were before. Although I want desperately to punch someone in the gonads for leaving us the incorrect paint colors for each room of the house (Even white! They didn't even have the correct version of WHITE paint!), I must admit I really enjoy the colors they selected in the first place. Double edged sword, no?

So, the entire point of this rant is to tell you that last weekend Adam and I not only repainted our grey office a new, but VERY similar shade of grey all because of NAIL POPS, but we also got a hair up our asses and got a new desk. And threw away a lot of my clutter, and hung some pictures, and basically made into good something that actually made me want to pull out all my hair and then set myself and this mismatched paint hoarding house on fire.

Here is the mess of an office right after we moved in. We called this the room the place where the ugly furniture we owned came to die. So. Much. Crap.

After painting the room essentially the EXACT SAME SHADE OF GREY (you have no idea how angry this makes me. Or maybe you do, there have been a lot of caps used in this post) we began putting the room back together. Starting with the new desk space.

On the other side of the room we have our futon, and Adam's collection of guitars. The guitars we love, the futon, we HATE. But, with every makeover there are things that you can't remove just yet. Damn money. In the months to come we intend to replace it with this chair (except the one we own is white, with black sides) in the corner near the window, we're calling it the reading chair if you will, and this bookshelf (in black), laying on its side under the guitars. It will thereby hold more books AND still enable me to rest my coffee on top while I'm reading! Storage and a coffee table, glorious.

And where will the guests sleep you ask? On the air mattress of course.

Emmaly my dear sister, you must have known I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor. And really, after Oly removed all the stuffing from the middle portion of the futon last month (aren't puppies cute?), sleeping on this monstrosity would be like sleeping on a bed with a hole cut out for your ass.

Wait, maybe that's a really comfortable alternative after all...

The three guitars. I can play absolutely nothing on these beauties. Adam on the other hand likes to serenade me over and over and over and over with Tom Petty's "Free Falling" when we find we've had just a tad too much to drink.

Once I think we sang that song on repeat for over an hour.

I bet the neighbors LOVED us that night.

This guitar has the most importance in the whole collection. This guitar traveled through battles in the Pacific in WWII, and then back home to Nevada on the back of Adam's grandfather. After his passing it became Adam's. I believe it is one of Adam's dearest possessions.


My favorite thing about the guitar wall is the picture of Adam's grandfather after returning from the war, still in uniform, with his beloved guitar.

Could anything be more adorable?



Oh wow! How did that get in here?

Go UW!

Oh, did I mention that this upcoming weekend my only plans include PAINTING THE GUEST ROOM THE SAME SHADE OF GREEN THAT IT ALREADY IS?

I think I need to lie down.



Ashley, the Accidental Olympian