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  • Writer's pictureAlicia Dione

Food Chaos

Updated: Mar 16, 2022

All Day Long

That’s how long my back has been fucked. This is the first blog I will be writing all at once and all in the evening after a well calculated and debated diazepam. The problem with these hotel rooms is that the main place to sit is a bed. Relaxing? Working? Sleeping? TV? Video call? It all takes place with your two legs out in front of you and your back against a head board. This is a position that the human body, or my body at least, is not used to spending much time in. I have been aware of the prolonged same position over the last few days and have taken time do shoulder stands, cat cow, cobra, down dog and more to keep my body moving. However, it didn’t work. My hips, lower back and legs are numb/tingly/painful.


I am sure it is sciatica pressure, but not 'sciatica' according to my doctor at home as the discomfort is 50/50 on each side. (I've experienced this a handful of times in my life). I know that the pain is nerve based and nerves love ice when they aren’t happy, so quick calls to the nurse for some zip-lock specimen bags and room service for some ice and we were in business. The only chair in the room has become my fortress of solitude with one of the new trainer boxes under my feet to relieve pressure on my lower back, and a pillow tightly wedging the ice bag to my lower, lower… lower back.


I have to say the ice has been fantastic. I have to apply it for a long time but once I do the relief is massive. The other thing that is becoming apparent is the shockingly rude lack of pigment in my skin. Like… where is it? I tan pretty well in summer, especially for an Irish girl. I used to burn badly as a child and factor 50 was a must for face and shoulders with regular top-ups. At age 18 I said enough was enough and I set out on a mission, a mission to tan better. I hated sunbathing and found it to be the most boring and mind-numbingly irritating past time. I wanted to be running up and down water slides, swimming as far as I could with one breath and pulling stunts whilst diving into the water which really should have gotten me injured more often than it did.


The task was simple and I had done my research: get my body to produce more melanin (the protective pigment that causes you to look tan). I knew that my body, being the basic white bitch that it is, was very slow and inexperienced at making this pigment. In this time I was lucky that early summer had gently awoken my melanin making cells... (a luxury my body doesn't have now, having been ripped from January in England to Summer in NZ and no ozone).

Mission: change skin pigment. Location: France. Month: August. Master plan:

Week 1- No suncream: 10 min each side.

Week 2- No suncream: 15 min each side.

Week 3- No suncream 20 min each side... and so on.

I can honestly say this worked. I cannot endorse this and do not recommend risking skin cancer to look less like a bottle of milk, but hey! I was 18 and I had a plan... and you know what? I succeeded!

The trick, I think, is understanding that your body is equipped to deal with extreme threats to itself and your well-being. By not protecting it for a short period of time I forced my body to produce that pigment or face being burnt to a crisp (correction: an 18 year old with a stupid plan). The things we do to feel good about ourselves. Of course this was before the time of self love, self acceptance and body positivity.


Something fun that has transpired today... we have no access to our savings! Luckily enough I had a back up plan in place where I can use my 'monzo' to get us through.

Top Tip: Monzo are a great account to have for travelling with good exchange rates and the ability to pay in person, online or to get cash out! Love, love, love! (Not an ad).

Note to any travellers out there: Unfortunately, even if you walk into the bank before moving, even if you explicitly say you will be abroad and will be transferring a large sum of money. Even if the bank then say that there are no issues and no need for you to do anything… they will still recognise it as fraud and block you from your money. Also, when they say they are open 24 hours and you can call this number, that is all you can do… call that number. That number will then play you a message which states normal office opening times. Genius.


One of the upsides to the bank drama is that it proved me right, which is always fun. Earlier today whilst I was sorting the rental car and flights for our trip down to Wanaka, Ben, with his innocence said: "that should be it for today's paperwork and admin once you've finished that". I giggled at this and said there was no way that there wouldn’t be an issue that either reoccured or sprouted a new. Too many hours have been spent on hold, talking to customer service, tracking down CCTV and reordering non-existent shopping for me to believe that. And alas, he is now calling the bank in England to sort this out.


Food Update

This is hilarious. As you know we have been waiting on two food orders for 5 days; our own food order containing lemonade, a toothbrush and some other essentials, and Ben's bosses food order containing... we don't know. After chasing the supermarket it ended up being the fault of the hotel and they were sent the receipt to re order the whole thing and pay for it out of their pocket. Now here's the punch line. After jumping into the shower there was a knock on the door. I heard confusion and mumbling. It wasn't meal time (God I sound like I'm in prison... "outdoor time", "meal time". Mad).


The bathroom door opened and from the other side of the shower curtain came Bens voice; "um babe, you might wanna come look at this". Finishing my shower up promptly I wrapped a towel around me and made my way out to the room. Meeting my gaze were at least 12 paper grocery bags filled to the brim with food. I looked at Ben with my jaw grazing the floor... "so, um... I think they doubled my bosses order". In front of us was over a kilo of sweets, crisps, 2 bottles of wine, a bottle of Prosecco and so much more. The phone rang. "Hello?" Ben said still in shock. "Hello, we just wanted to let you know that your other bottle of wine and second bottle of Prosecco are here at reception as we can only give you so much per day. We will deliver the rest tomorrow".


(Follow me on Instagram for more content. aliciadione.ig).

I cannot describe to you the amount of food and drink we now had in our presence and less that a week to make out way through it. We had barley even touched the extra snack bags that had arrived two days ago let alone these! Dinner today was by all accounts, 'meh' which we thank out lucky stars for considering the massive, fuck off portions of snacks we now have readily available 24 hours a day. I’m going to try an due as sensible as possible with it. Drink lots of water. Walk with purpose in outdoor time and see if I can sneak in another walk where possible. Today my walk was with the purpose to not injure myself further and so was slow and steady. I was however, lucky enough to squeeze in a second walk at 7pm which got my step count to 12,000 and my bloated tummy to chill the f out, sit down and shut up. This food order is my Everest.


I also started a book today called ‘The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a F**k’. When I was flipping the pages, pacing the room. I realised that if I had picked up this book 12 months ago (in my final year of Midwifery), that I would have had so much to project onto this book and work through. So many opinions people had and so many nasty and spiteful people to unpack and process along the way. Today, I read this book and felt like maybe I was the wrong audience. Don't get me wrong, I am a massive ‘fuck giver’ as described in the book. But I am so much happier now. Ben has a lot to do with that. Not in a way that I rely on him or need him, but in a way that I have learnt a lot from him.


When we first met, in some ways I thought he could be a little selfish, inconsiderate and so laid back I could barley fathom it. As time went on I began to see that it was me. I am that person that runs around making sure everyone else is happy all of the time, (impossible) and that does everything I possibly can to make people like me (doesn't work)... and ensures that mere acquaintances know that if at any time, night or day they could call me to their side. It also involves hundreds of nights laying awake thinking about an off handed comment that may or may not have insinuated something negative about me or my behaviour. I handed out fucks like I was allergic to them and my own wellbeing and mental health was a price I was willing to pay if I could just keep everyone happy. It honestly makes me act like a naive little psycho. Psycho you may feel it a bit strong but seriously? Who in their right mind, freely gives out their energy, sleep, headspace, mental health and fucks so freely? I think a large part of it is that women are taught from a young age to be helpful, welcoming and supportive. We are never taught; 'this isn't your problem and who cares if they don't like you'.


Now, I have learnt that drama has a time and a place and it is very rarely applicable to a situation. Through TV, movies and books we are all taught that this overly dramatic way of thinking is the norm, nay, the necessity in order to make commotion and noise. It is not. I already adjusting to this was of living thanks to Ben and I am 10 pages into the book so I am a little curious as to what this book has to offer me. Never the less, I am very interested to find out and am always open to growing into a calmer, more level headed version of myself. Looking back Ben was mature, level headed, laid back, (I still feel a little too much at times) but overall, just much happier in his own skin than most. What a fella!


Maybe look at yourself today and see; what rials you up? When it does just ask yourself… is this worth my energy, time, mental health and fucks? Good luck 😘




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