Thought process of: a Tidsoptimist

tidsoptimist, writing blog, style blogtidsoptimist, writing blog, style blog

 

It’s 3am. I think my bag is ready. Maybe I should unpack and repack it one more time in the morning. Let’s set my alarm, maybe write a quick list of what I need to do when I get up:

  • shower. shower.
  • have breakfast.
  • grab a coffee.
  • say goodbye to the family.
  • pack my charger, toothbrush and retainers. Do. Not. Forget. Your. Retainers.
  • Find a plug adapter Buy adapter at the airport.
  • PACK PASSPORT. Fuck.
  • Book first nights accommodation. Mmm that’s kind of a biggy. It’ll be fine. I have loads of time.
  • Print boarding passes and first night booking confirmation.
  • Blag a lift to the Station. Airport. Station.
  • Travel to airport

 

What time’s my flight? 2.30pm. Ah what am I worrying about that’s ages. Let’s set my alarm for 6am. 7am. 7.30am. 6.42am.

Oof this is early 6.42am. I shouldn’t have seen the girls last night. I’m only away for 3 weeks I should have just come home and packed. Oh well, too late. Okay shower? Shower 7.10am. Am I sure I’ve gotten everything? 7.30am. Indi’s awake, let’s grab breakfast. I’ll suggest eggs to try and avoid today’s 15 minute argument about no ice lollies. She’s falling for it. Yes. I’ve won. Ella 1 – Indi nil 7.45am. Where’s indi gone and WHY am I EATING an ice lolly? 8.15am. Make-up – I look dreadful 8.25am. Letting indi help put my make-up on is not a great idea ella 8.30am. Sam is shoo-ing indi away. WHERE has all this glitter come from? 8.40am. Ah shit I need to get out of the house and find somewhere I can print all this stuff. I’ll head to the office 9.01am. Pull over for coffee? Yes. No. No. Be sensible and if you have time then grab a coffee 9.29. Yes, hi everyone I know I’m IN the office but I’m not IN to work so please just ignore me. A problem with what? Okay fine, let me have a look 10.07am. Printing 10.13am. Ah balls, check in online. Where’s my passport? In the car. (I know what you were thinking) 10.27. AH BALLS first night’s accommodation. Searching…Searching…11.01am I DONT KNOW WHERE I’M STAYING 11.02am Geez ella you need to calm the eff down. 11.03am Searching…closest beach to airport 11.20am. Imagine all the stuff I’d know right now if I’d planned this at any point before right this second. Maybe just read some stuff on lonely planet. No. Focus. Ooo arugam bay looks pretty. No ella. No time. 11.24am. Another office question really? Sure. I’ll help. 11.37am. ‘Great place to stay if you’re on a budget. Close to station’ 11.47am. FUCK IT 11.48pm. Ah geez you need to get out of here ella. Print confirmation. GRAB DAD ASK FOR A LIFT TO THE STATION 12.00pm. Arrive at the station 12.23pm Buy train tickets 12.25pm. Wait for train 12.38pm. That wasn’t a long wait, that’s lucky. Now all I’ve gotta do is chill out on this train, listen to some music. Let’s just re-check what time my flight is – 2.30pm. Okay sweet. Loads of time 1.15pm. How long does this train take? 1.34pm. Erm? Ella? 1.45pm. I don’t want you to stress yourself out here but this might be cutting it a bit fine. 1.50pm. It’s okay. 1.52pm. Is it okay? 1.52pm. I don’t think it is o….kaay 1.59pm Shit, 1.59pm means it’s nearly 2pm 2.00pm. Hang on a second, my flight is at 2.30pm so I’ve only left it HALF AN HOUR BEFORE TAKE OFF.

I knew I shouldn’t have showered.

white chunky knit jumper, winter jumper, style blogtidsoptimist, writing blog, style blogtidsoptomist6girl model, blue eyes, tidsoptimist, style blogstyle blog, writing blog

 

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Athlete’s Foot

fitness blog, humour, gym bunny

It’s been…[insert number of] days since I’ve been to the gym. Ergh. Why can’t walking from the car to my desk count as a workout. I swear I’d be more motivated to go if I was already a size below minus 0. It would just be a matter of maintenance then right? Fine. I’m going. In an hour. Maybe 2. Do I need to eat before – or after? I probably shouldn’t eat at all. EVER. AGAIN. I don’t think I’ve actually eaten that much today so I should probably eat something now. Oh, no wait I had that pretty big breakfast, and lunch…and double dinner. Fine, I’ll have a quick snack and then I’ll go straight to bed when I’m done. I’ll brush my teeth as soon as I walk in the door or something. Maybe I’ll take my toothbrush TO the gym and do it before I leave. Gosh, I’m so smart.

Oo there’s a snickers bar. On the floor. How long have you BEEN here? Well, you’re good to eat immediately. Mmm probably don’t need a whole bar. I know, I’ll eat half and have the other half as a treat later. A well done treat for actually going to the gym, or something. No wait, I’ll have ALL of it so that I’m using it as energy during my workout. Well, now I definitely have to go. I’ve just inhaled a family sized snickers bar. How long have I got? I better give myself half an hour for that to digest.

Okay, what do I need? Top, sports bra, leggings. I guess it won’t matter if I forget anything, I’m pretty sure I haven’t unpacked my stuff from [insert number of] week(s) ago. Argh, ella that’s disgusting. Oh my god why is there left over strudel in the fridge?? Who bought strudel?? Don’t eat it. Don’t eat it. Don’t eat it. I’m serious ella. You don’t need it. Put it down. Hey where’d that – oh my god, you’ve eaten it. Really ella?? Come on, go get in the car. Get out of this house before someone has to cut through it to remove you. Maybe I should walk to the gym to start working off that pastry. How long would that take me? AN HOUR! No way man. Got shit to do.

Really don’t wanna do this. Ooo Katy Perry she’ll get me in the mood. Baby, I am a firework. I bet Katy Perry doesn’t eat fridge strudel. Or floor snickers. Ergh fuck you Katy Perry and your waist and cherry lips and…nah, how can I hate on you when you create such emotional music. Oh, I’m here. Already? Just go into the changing rooms, get into your stuff and then it’s nearly over. I’ll just sprint on the treadmill till the calories hits 3 million or something. Ergh I hate the treadmill. Maybe I’ll just swing some kettlebells about until I knock myself out cold and don’t eat for 3 weeks. Bingo.

Okay, gym bag – damn that’s pungent. Top, sports bra, leggings. Where are my –

trainers.

Oh well. Least I tried.

Thedrifterblog

surfgirl, surf style, style blog

My little niece has a thing for swimming costumes. Because of which, her drawers are stuffed with one pieces. She’ll pick one for day wear, change twice, one if she wants to actually go swimming – in which case, another spare for the evening. Plus 1 just in case because, come on guys she’s only 3. One has a little tutu stitched around the waist, another, has shiny mermaid scales. She pairs these with glittery trainers, gold sandals or jelly shoes if she’s feeling like dressing it down a  bit. Dress code: Smart cas(ual).

I take a look at my own swimwear. Mismatched bikinis which I love but never wear. Whom, I ask you, has the opportunity to wear a bikini in England? Like for reals. They’re as redundant as the swimming pool you insist you need with your gym membership. I own 2 one pieces. One, is a plain black high neck that I wear when I swim lanes and feel snobby when I roll at the end and kick off, safe in the knowledge that when I kick off, my swimsuit kicks off with me. We’re a team. As opposed to the bikini that you smother in a beach towel on holz OR in an attempt to remain as horizontal as possible, sausage roll over the sand to the sea OR volunteer to be the person made into a sand mermaid. Which you hate.

Fun and fancy adult swimwear is hard to come by. Let me tell you, I am not above wearing children’s clothes if they would accommodate me. I had to re-visit the apostrophe in children’s. Like new children’s clothing, not like clothing that already belong to children. The other one piece I own I found on e-bay and originally purchased as fancy dress that would later form the outfit I have come to name the ‘funky disco chicken’. Whom, I insisted, featured in the opening sequence of the Lion King to someone who had never seen it – aaaaah savegnyaaah baba gitzuvava – the circle of life and that. This particular one piece is neon pink, orange and green with gold coins and swirls and came at the cost of £2.04 plus £2 postage and packaging. Come to think of it, I’ve pulled every. single. time. I’ve worn it. Which, in my humble opinion, has been worth the investment. (I’ll be sure to feature it in a post)

So, next up in my collection of my fave Instama’amers is The Drifter BlogSwimsuits all round. Bikini’s welcome too. Equal rights and that. Or – have a mosey below from my Pinterest board.

swimming costumes, swimwear

 

Verified Looker

tinder, dating tips, online dating.

Thursday Morning: a photo message pops up on my phone. It’s a screenshot of my tinder profile. He’s found me. Finally. Now, we can move to stage 2 where we skip the dating facade, we know each other so well already.  Why date when we can just marry and spawn our offspring? Dating’s for chumps. We can be that couple that minces around and says things like: ‘when you know, you just know, you know?’ or ‘it was love at first sight’. Except maybe not first sight because I’ve hung out with him a couple times. Okay, a few more times than a couple times. Fine, if I’m totally honest he’s a mate that I’ve hung out with constantly for the past 2 years. But I can’t speak for him, he probably did fall in love with me at first sight. Who hasn’t?

First things first – first I need to find him back and see if he leftied or rightied. He rightied. Obviously. Why did I even think that he might of leftied? He’s not MAD. Time to cruise his photos…hang on a minute there’s a bio. A bio?? Do people write a bio on Tinder? Shit, I don’t have a bio. All mine says is ‘you’re punching’. That’s not a bio – that’s just me, stating a fact.

He’s training for tough mudder. I beg your pardon? He enjoys reading. Do podcasts count? Ran a skatepark in New York. Yeah like 10 years ago.

I take a look at my own profile. Me at Glastonbury with Hot Jo. I never learn. Me, smiling in a flat in Berlin, strategically placed to show that I have teeth. Me, longboarding outside my old flat in 2011 to show that I sort of longboard. Me, walking into the sea in 2000 and? Fuck. This decade, at least. I would have been 13 in 2000. I wouldn’t of put anything up pre 16 years old. WOULD I? I guess I did have a thigh gap then…

A whatsapp message pops up – ‘Send me a selfie’ a different guy from Tinder messaged. Weird I thought. I’m not doing anything saucy. NOT THAT I WOULD HAVE SENT A PHOTO HAD I BEEN. ‘Go on my Instagram’ I replied. Or back onto my Tinder. Or look at my profile picture on this whatsapp conversation. Or go on my linkedin. Or look me up on facebook. Or google me. You get the point. No. Not good enough he implied. ‘Send a selfie’ he repeated. Ergh. ‘I don’t’, you know, ‘do selfies’ I said.

I do. You can find one here, and here, and here. I could go on. All from Instagram because Instagram means filters. He’s on to me. ‘Those photos don’t count’. I’m semi-offended but mainly already tired of this conversation.

Online dating is ruining dating. Isn’t love blind? ‘Nope’ – online dating tells me. In the 21st century, love is not blind. In the 21st Century,modern medicine came along and restored love to 20 20 vision and as a leaving treat, instead of a sticker that said ‘Great Work’ or ‘Mr Chapman says Well Done’, it’s supplied it with x-ray goggles so it. Can. See. Everything. Another photo message pops up from the tinder guy. It’s a screenshot of me doing a selfie with my Mum on the beach in Brighton, 86 WEEKS AGO. Woah. Maybe he just really likes me. Well, not actually me, the look of me.

You see, Online dating may see everything, but does it really know anything? So my friend may never do a tough mudder but how about that time he surprised me with a flat white when I was flagging. Or the multiple pep talks he gave me when I was feeling pretty low. Details which he’s missed out of his profile because details like that seem un-noteworthy amongst the thousands of online profiles.

‘We need to invent Tinder Verification’, I told my friend. Whereby we drive over to your house without your knowing and judge via binoculars whether you look like your Tinder profile. If you do, you can have a little blue tick next to your name like those celebs on twitter. ‘It’ll be super romantic’.