The Accidental Olympian

LIGHTHOUSES, RAIN, & WIND, OH-MY!

Images from Cape Disappointment (no joke, how terrifying would it be to approach that area as a sailor?) in Long Beach, WA.

Over our tiny 4 day weekend in Long Beach over Christmas we went to this point twice, both times in the rain and wind, further proving that Washingtonians and Oregonians are heartier stock than most of you fools.

Aka: Dad, rain wont kill you. Swearzies.

All images, except for that last one taken with my iPhone. Goooooooooo iPhone photography!

SELF DIAGNOSIS

So, I just diagnosed myself. Yep, who needs a masters in therapy, clinical hours, and experience? Bitch I know stuff.

After careful examination I've come to the delightful realization that I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, also known as SAD. Isn't that the LAMEST acronym you ever heard?


"How you feeling today Bob?"

"Oh, not so good. I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with SAD again."

Could this 'disorder' sound any more pansy?

But seriously. After going through a week of dreary weather, and a week of hiding under the covers and getting NO sleep because my mind kept waking me up to thoughts of 'INTRUDER!', I was more than pleased to realize Saturday morning that the tides had finally turned. The sun was back, and suddenly I was a new woman. 

I mean, I grew up in a world where roses bloom year round, where tanning in January is normal and can actually be done out in nature instead of a tanning bed, and a world where threat of rain will actually send people to the store to stock up on food, groceries and toilet paper. Because God forbid their hair frizzes from all the sudden moisture.

I thought I knew all there was to know about sunshine after this California upbringing. I thought it was no big deal and frankly a little overrated. And then I moved to Washington. Suddenly I live in a world where a gorgeous day like this Saturday, after so many weeks of rain feels like having crack injected, snorted, and inhaled into my system ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

A sunny day makes me feel like I am mother fucking super woman. I can plant a garden, hike up a mountain, solve world hunger, repair Brangelina's relationship, grow rock candy, repaint the house, bake 20 hideous cakes, run a marathon, TWICE, train a monkey, reorganize the house, dig a well, volunteer at a soup kitchen, teach Oly how to mix me a cocktail, and build an addition to our house out of sticks and rocks collected in my front yard all after I end the war in Iraq, single-handedly.

There is no task too difficult, and even scooping up wet mushy three week old dog crap in my backyard feels like a fucking stroll through Disneyland because look, THE SUN IS OUT!

After a day of vitamin D I lay in bed, reviewing the trail of greatness I've left in my wake and suddenly I feel like my world has been turned right side up again. Those feelings of worthlessness, low self esteem, or despair appear to have happened AGES ago! Silly silly girl.

Then I wake up on Sunday and it's raining. And not like a sprinkle here or there, I'm talking torrential downpour where I was pretty sure that it was time to get to work building that arc I've always been itching to construct because there was a 90% chance my house might float away without me. Before I know it I've slept in till noon, haven't washed my face, and I'm refusing to go to the store to get more food so instead end up eating peanut butter on Cheese-It's with a side of pickles all day. I feel the urge to paint disturbing images, but then ten seconds in remember I can't actually paint worth shit and proceed to get really upset with myself for being such a terrible artist. I watch depressing movies about the Holocaust and then bemoan the pain of humanity for the rest of the day. I paint my fingernails black. I realize Brangelia are going to be ok after all, which seems great (obviously my counseling from Saturday worked), until I realize now Brad and I might never be able to be together. Damn big lipped bitch and all her children. Before I know it I feel the urge to write angry tirades in my diary about the evils of the world and I find myself having two too many glasses of wine and passing out without showering. Again.

And if on Monday I wake to a beautiful sunny day, suddenly I'm fucking Martha Stewart, Richard Simmons and the Dalai Lama, all wrapped up at once. When I sit down for my morning pee unicorns and sparkles will flow from my va-jay-jay and I wont be able to help but sing, "Damn it feels good to be a gangster," all day long. Because well my friends, it does. 

BASICALLY I've come to realize that the sun is fucking with me.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

WE’RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD!

And when I say 'the Wizard' I of course am referring to my family.

You knew that right? I mean, my dad could TOTALLY pass as some kind of post hippie wizard of coolness and air guitar if I really wanted to stick to this whole ‘wizard theme’. More than anything though I just really like the line, We're off to see the Wizard. And the more I think about it, it doesn't even make all that much sense in my own head, this whole Wizard-Family analogy, and quite frankly the more I read this paragraph over and over looking for a meaning to this mess the more likely I am going to give myself an aneurysm, and holy crap it just wont stop so folks on that note, WE'RE MOVING ON!


So after the Christmas freak out of 2009 that landed my ass in the therapists office and sparked many many nights of crying and nonsense that can only be cured by large glasses of wine, my mother and I decided to put those pesky wasted airline miles to use and purchased Adam and I tickets to see the folks over this lovely MLK weekend.

I like to think it was inspired in a sort of, “Wow, that was bad timing, but we still love you!” kind of way that makes me happy to call these folks my family.


At first I was timid, what with the whole recently canceling a major holiday because of my serious lack of mental sanity thing, but as the time has neared, and the conversations with family have become more open and honest I’ve moved on to this place of, “FUCK YEAH! WHO’S EXCITED ABOUT CALIFORNIA? THIS GUY!”

Last MLK weekend Adam and I headed South for a CA trip in honor of my father’s 60th birthday. Which was SUPPOSED to be a sneaky super amazing surprise, until I opened my big ass mouth and said something along the lines of, “OMG Dad aren’t you thrilled for your big 60th birthday party this weekend?”

Yeah, apparently someone forgot I can’t keep secrets. Life Fail.

Even with my snafu the weekend was wonderful. Mostly because it was all about sunshine, beaches, family, sunshine, wine tasting, BBQing, sunshine, friends, golfing, and did I mention all the sunshine? It was everything a winter escapist vacation is supposed to be. Except for the part where I had to beg Adam to get on the plane to come home to raining, pouring, miserable in the winter WA, and then had to kick my Dad’s ass for trying to bribe Adam to stay in CA and be his golfing/fishing/pool/football watching/chilling partner by showing him next weeks forecast of 75 degrees and sunny. In January.

Ahhhh memories.

In crazed anticipation of our 2010 trip (flight leaves at 5!!!!!!) I have been monitoring the weather app on my phone hourly and it seems that although we might not be getting a tan on the beach this year (DAMN IT!), we will at least be able to leave our NASA strength raincoats, rain boots, long sleeved shirts, gloves and closed toe shoes at home.

Which is PRECISELY where they belong.

And just to rub it in, because lets be honest I'm just a little high from all the excitement, this is what our trip to the Santa Ynez Valley in JANUARY looked like last year,

 

 

See, he looks like a wizard when he does that 'I used to be a hippie, isn't life AMAZING' laugh, right? Can't make this shit up people.

OH, and it's the Wizard's birthday today. Happy Birthday Papa!

This last one has NOTHING to do with sunshine, or California, or vacations for that matter, but come on, how could I not show you a picture of my parent's/sister's dog Baxter? I mean, he's a wiener dog, wearing a bandanna, and giving you the 'everyone beats me' face. What's not to love?

Seriously, are we there yet?

 Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

MAKING MEMORIES

It’s in that moment when you’re late for work, crouched down in the pouring rain, using a soapy rag to wipe smeared cat shit off the side of your dogs all too happy-to-see-you face when you can’t help but think to yourself, “Why couldn't I remember THESE kinds of precious moments back when I was scouring PetFinder ravenously for my perfect little puppy addition?”

LIVING. THE. DREAM.

 Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

LIGHT TO DARK

 

Home early from work I spotted a clearing in our now typically dreary weather and decided the best thing for Oly and I was a long walk. The sky looked as if the consecutive days of rain had finally washed it clean. The world seemed to sparkle as we ventured out to stretch our legs after many days trapped indoors watching the fat rain drops slide down the window panes.

 

 

By the time we made the loop back to the neighborhood, darkness had begun to envelop our world, ushering us back into the safety of our warm home. The clouds continued to stay away for those last moments as we trudged back, and I silently thanked them. It was as if they knew we needed this one hour to breathe, stretch and reboot.

 Ashley, the Accidental Olympian