The Accidental Olympian

MY AMERICAN DREAM

One of the quintessential pieces of the American dream is the desire to own your own home. People save, and skimp, barter, beg, and steal to finally move from being a renter to a home owner.

On April 10th 2009, at a weirdly young age I made my own leap from being a renter to a home owner. At the time I didn't even have a job, and it was all sorts of crazy, and everything just sort of fit and before I knew it I was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. TA-DA! Now don't get me wrong, I love my house. I love that we were even able to make this whole crazy owning our own home thing come to life in the first place. When it was all said and done, I believe that there is a different feeling one gets about their home when they know that the possibilities are truly endless.

BUT there also lies a catch in that once you sign all 700 of those papers you most likely also become a complete and total SLAVE to your home. Financially, and physically.

Since the house became ours Adam and I have performed a plethora of home repairs. Most all of which have been maintenance related, and less about evoking a feeling of, "Oh look how pretty! I love what you've done with the place!"

First there was the entryway support beam replacement (700 dollars later!), the two month process last summer of recaulking and then HAND PAINTING our two story house (seizure), painting the dinning room, paint touch ups in every single room of our house (which OMG isn't finished), removing and replacing the caulking in the kitchen and bathroom countertops, installing a fence border last summer, laying down what felt to Adam like a football field worth of sod in the backyard, and now, now we've successfully replaced the front entryway tile.

Have you ever demoed tile? This is one project I was finally totally behind because it's angry, there is a lot of violent use of sledge hammers, and you're welcome to grunt and scream with reckless abandon and no one tells you to stop scaring the dog.

Ok, sadly this picture is more, Redneck With A Hammer In Pink Crocs, and less, Awesome Demo Bitch Who Kicks Much Ass. But there is only so much I can do here people. 

Adam and I have BIG dreams for this home of ours. And the only disappointing part in all of it is that most of these dreams are also deeply halted by the funds we don't have. But, we're learning to do what we can, with what we have.

For the last year, all our beautification projects have had to wait as the necessity projects have come first. I have always understood the importance of maintenance, like replacing the caulking on the exterior of our house, but it's just really difficult to get a hard on about CAULKING. Especially when it takes up nearly two months of your summer.

But this time, even with the knee strain, and the lost Thursday night, the lost Friday night, the lost Saturday day, and oh, the lost Monday night, I finally have a project where I can point and say, "Don't you love our new tile? We did it ourselves."

Here is what we started with.

Oh how we hated the bla cream generic mass produced icky tile. Also, please note how it seems that Adam and I appear to have like 16 of our closest friends and family over for dinner in this shot. The sad part, those are all OUR shoes.

Shoes and all, four days later I present you with this, our new entryway.

The lighting sucks in this image, and there is still plastic on my carpet, and we haven't even reattached the trim, but it doesn't matter because I'm in love. Please excuse me while I rub my naked body all over our new entryway.

Pay no mind. Just step over me on your way in. 

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

SANITY

So here's the deal. Winter and I haven't exactly been getting along lately. Winter is kind of a downer of sorts and is constantly being all, "YOU HAVE NOTHING! GIVE UP!" And I'm like, "Wow winter, you're kind of a douche canoe." And then winter bitch slaps me and I cry.

So yeah, winter is a dick.

That is until recently. This month winter decided to give me a break by giving me things like high 50's and sunny for weeks at a time. All of a sudden I can't help but be all, "Wow winter, I've never seen this side of you! Did you lose weight?" And then winter smiles and we skip off into the sunset holding hands.

 

Most recently I've found that it is fairly hard to dwell on the bitchiness of winter while you lay on warm sand. This weekend Adam and I packed the car and the dog, high-fived winter and headed to a little beach town an hour and a half from Olympia called Ocean Shores. There seems to be something about this little spec on the map that reaches inside that messy brain of mine and straightens everything out. Once this very shore gave me strength, once it provided a welcome vacation, and now, a little bit of sanity.

I don't know what it is about me and the beach, but there is nothing like the ocean to help me reflect on life and make me feel all warm and fuzzy and shit.

I assume this too shall pass.

Really though, there is nothing cuter than a boy and his kite.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY! KINDA. MAYBE? EH, CLOSE ENOUGH

From what we were told, Oly began her life as a tiny puppy dropped off in a shoebox on the steps of a shelter sometime in mid February. So small and helpless her eyes weren't even open yet.

So basically, what started like THIS,

 

turned into THIS in one year.

I knew when we moved to Olympia almost a year ago that I desperately wanted, no take that back NEEDED and would most likely die without a dog. What I didn't expect was how absolutely kick ass it would be to live with Miss Oly. Quirks and all.

Lady, you are one cool bitch.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

REPAIRS, PLANS, AND REMOLDING, OH MY!

One of the things I absolutely love about living with Adam is how we seem to bring out the dreamer in one another. The first month we lived in our new home I swear 90% of our waking time was spent frantically detailing all the things we could renovate, change, add, build, replace, or fix. We would stand at the window, leering out at our basic and dull backyard and become so overflowing with excitement about BENCHES! PLANTS! GARDENS! FENCES! that it was not uncommon for these dream worlds to come bursting into reality in the form of explosive arguments as our different tastes suddenly collided like two drunken truck drivers heading the wrong direction on the interstate.

Yes, you read that right, I just admitted that the number one thing Adam and I argue about is DECORATING. And yes, one time we did actually get into a screaming, crying, walk away to your separate corners argument over framed pictures.

It is quite possible we are actually two middle aged gay men with very different flourishes for interior decorating.

Let me give you a quick example of what I mean when I say our tastes 'collide'. Below we have a perfect example of what Adam would refer to as, "clean lines." Adam's perfect desk would have nothing but a monitor on it, his couch a land with no pillows, a wall with a single piece of modern art. I'm pretty sure this room is where he goes in his dreams, after he threw away the flowers on that back wall. I must admit though that the coffee table in this room is pretty amazing. I'm sure Adam saw this and then googled it to see if he can sneak it into our living room.

(photo credit, Desire to Inspire)

On the other hand, I like COLOR. I want pillows, and weird art, I want pictures everywhere, and books overflowing on shelves. I want my rug to say something about who I am, but mostly I can't get enough of this orange. I want to read and read and read some more on this couch.

(photo credit, Desire to Inspire/Kimberly Hall)

The striking differences of our taste in home decor can at times make me wish I lived with a man who let me have all the control when it comes to decorating our space. The first time I was rebuked for buying a bathroom rug without checking in with the personal tastes of my roomie hit me like a slap in the face. Yet as much as I sometimes loath that I can't simply HAVE IT MY WAY, I also can slowly feel my deep rooted stubbornness softening.

Pretty sure my close family and friends just all collectively rolled their eyes.

But it’s true!

It has been nearly a year since Adam and I took this crazy jump and relocated from Seattle to Olympia and then really lost our minds and bought our first house. In the beginning our decorating arguments raged on and on as we each attempted to insert our independence and identity into our shared space, our shared life. Yet over time the screaming and crying matches over coffee tables or paint colors have softened to conversations, although sometimes still quite heated I’ll admit, that are more so focused around explanations regarding our very different expectations, and attempting to better our communication with one another. Even if it is only about paint colors. 

We have lists and lists of things we still wish to do. Gardens to plant, rooms to paint, items to build, pictures to print, and even though I’m still unsure about the final color we painted the bathroom over the weekend (come on Adam admit it looks more purple than grey!), the fact that we got through 5 straight hours of painting and talking on and on about future house projects without someone storming out of the house in a hissy fit is absolutely a testament to one’s ability to change.

See, you CAN teach an old dog new ticks. 

Even if it's only to stop being such a controlling biatch.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

SUNDAY SNUGGLES

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian