tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35422426353308686722024-02-19T16:42:25.391+02:00DaisydaysDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.comBlogger210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-38346153771531916352017-01-31T15:19:00.000+02:002017-01-31T15:22:42.745+02:00Bird watching at the office
I work in a new office for a couple of months now and it's in a quiet green(er) neighborhood. Last year I bought the Phillips bird guide, the Romanian edition. So now I'm always on a lookout for nearby birdies. And as a very junior birdwatcher I'm starting with what I have around.
One of the first groups I started to follow in fascination was a fluttering gang of bullfinches (Pyrrhula Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-83840490351318151672017-01-01T22:26:00.001+02:002017-01-01T22:26:36.073+02:00In 2017 I'm an island
The more 2016 progressed, the more my anxiety grew. I'm now not sure whether I have heart problems or just a very fucked up manifestation of that anxiety. The first day of holiday - bam! I have left side chest pains and pains in my left arm. The ER says my life is not in any danger but they can't put a finger on whatever it really is.
The thing is, I am aware my anxiety has now reached a new Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-74003622578467181362016-04-28T11:39:00.003+03:002016-04-28T11:41:20.386+03:00The big things
Hey, guys! It's been more than a year since I last posted. Maybe nobody's reading anyway. I added a little banner to the right to the new blog I've started with my husband. A lot has changed. I moved, we live in a house now. We have a new baby boy cat (the one with his eyes open). We got married. I got a new job. I gained weight. I didn't finish my PhD yet. Some of my friends moved to other Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-71448516952208776712015-02-25T08:15:00.001+02:002015-02-25T08:15:39.244+02:00ObliteratedI look around social media and everybody seems to have this great time, being successful and going places and having these amazing pictures everybody likes of themselves.
And I just sit here hating myself day in and day out and I still can't believe a meat suit gets to define everything I am and everything I do. It obliterates the hard work and the kindness and the joy I used to get from all the Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-22818319215727732272015-01-02T09:35:00.001+02:002015-01-02T09:35:28.851+02:00Dear 2015I've just read a few bits about what you have in store for me and I it seems all the horoscopes agree on the major issues. I'll be working smarter and maybe harder and it will not go unnoticed. Although I was looking for a career change, you seem like the kind to take it easy. They say it'll not be about changing paths, but about being promoted. Also, completing a huge task this fall that I'll beDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-77209374391928762162014-05-14T12:26:00.000+03:002014-05-14T12:30:06.760+03:00One of those days
Sometimes I'm like one of those bands that do a goodbye tour and then a final tour and then some other kind of last chance to bee seen by fans for years in a row but never actually retire. Just the
opposite of that. I keep saying I'm gonna start working on things but then I don't.
I at least changed the appearance of the blog again. It's more clean and easy to navigate, I've set four tab labelsDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-88180334907709044572014-04-14T12:52:00.000+03:002016-04-28T11:20:00.913+03:00I'm back. Eventually
It's been like more than a month since I said I'd start posting again. I've been rummaging through old ideas of post topics I should use and I yet need to structure my writing so that I don't lazy out and keep track of the things I'd want to read here. Right now I'm at work and while I should be working or checking up some files at the court house, I'm writing this. Actually, my whole life has Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-90986677969952316462013-11-29T19:43:00.003+02:002013-11-29T19:44:16.017+02:00Crushed
Here I am again, writing to get myself together. I do own plenty of paper diaries, but, somehow, I've made this my home, although I'm always away. I cannot believe I keep getting trapped like this. Do you know that feeling when you're buried under sand and every single centimeter of your body is
being pressed and crushed? It's how I feel right now. There's this pressure on my chest that Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-58132777563868818082013-10-08T11:05:00.000+03:002016-04-28T11:19:25.370+03:00If I could figure out what is wrong with me, that would be great
You know, when I get sick or tired (not sick AND tired) I lose a part of the ability to like myself and even to enjoy life and be happy. Well, now I'm both, because it's been three days since I'm back from a week long journey around Europe, in a bus, and I came down with a cold and still haven't managed to get my shit together, sleep enough and be on schedule with the work I have to do.
The onlyDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-43964736810241571992013-08-24T18:05:00.000+03:002016-04-28T11:21:46.984+03:00Love matters
As I was returning home today I ran across a beautiful dog. His legs were hurt but in the process of healing, he was limping and he seemed to be excited about all the people he met, but too afraid to let them approach him. I had some bones for the cats around the block and I gave them to him. I then waited for him to come to me and we sat on the grass in the park chilling. He followed me furtherDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-35011746810436035972013-08-02T22:02:00.000+03:002014-05-05T14:49:24.846+03:00It's my hair and I'll cut if I want to
I feel so fancy with my new haircut. Suddenly, I looked in the mirror and it was the 27 years old me, not the 17 I have been staring these past few months at, trying to get her to grow the fuck up. I actually grew into myself, but I guess it's easier to blame your hair than admit all the things you've been through. I feel that more fancy because I'm wearing my favorite sundress and my huge hat Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-45932456897204654012013-08-01T10:58:00.000+03:002013-08-01T10:58:06.323+03:00Naturally
It seems it's just me once again. It's not something I know for certain, but I can feel it all falling apart. In the end, I regret all those things I dreamed about and never got to do. But even through this hangover I know I can't force it. And it's been feeling a little forced ever since the beginning. It just felt like I was pushing and pushing and nothing would move an inch.
Afterall, it Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-20419758753587202982013-07-05T17:22:00.000+03:002016-04-28T11:21:22.457+03:00Girls and women
I shared Laurie Penny's article last week on Facebook, highlighting a paragraph that appealed to me in particular, especially at that point in my life: "It’s definitely easier to be a girl than it
is to do the work of being a grown woman, especially when you know that
grown women are far more fearful to the men whose approval seems so
vital to your happiness. And yet something in me was Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-87420768006355258272013-07-02T21:52:00.001+03:002013-07-02T21:53:05.217+03:00Birthday wishlist. Second edition
Now, you might remember last year's birthday wishlist. These things seem to work in the long run. I bought most of the stuff on that list, but it doesn't really matter , they're still presents :D I was going to write a post on how I'm on a freaking rollercoaster lately, but my friends keep bugging me to write the list. Truth be told, this year I want less stuff and more... well,, thingsDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-57171013326625314962013-06-23T11:16:00.000+03:002013-06-23T11:16:44.529+03:00Womanifesto
(I'm one year behind with this, I know. But it just feels I'm at that moment when I need to reassert by beliefs and self-love and put everything down so I can come back to them when in doubt. This is my womanifesto.)
I own myself and my happiness.
I choose whether to be happy or sad, not the people around me, not the things that happen to me.
I do not owe anybody to be happy, to look healthy orDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-64367417984625318632013-05-27T21:30:00.001+03:002014-05-14T12:13:44.914+03:00Feels like the first time
Today I got my third tattoo. It's considerably larger that the others and it's really powerful, in my opinion. So I've been staring at it ever since I got home and I keep thinking "I love it so much" and "it's better than what I imagined", but also "mom will freak" and "I'll meet a guy I like who'll hate me for my tattoos". But you know what? Nothing compares to this overwhelming feeling that Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-41484980921778700812013-05-16T08:12:00.001+03:002013-05-16T08:12:31.738+03:00Tempting faith
Yesterday, I said, couldn't have gone worst. Well, it could, and the universe chose to gives me just a taste of it. During a conversation with friends, I was bragging about how I make back-up plans in my head for different situations, like if they set me up and I go to jail, or if I lose everything that keeps me in this town. You know, stuff I also muse about in here. And then I said. But what Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-48289197508938363702013-05-04T18:33:00.002+03:002013-05-04T18:33:41.691+03:00Holiday outline. Meh
As long as I don't spend my time on social networks, I am batshit crazy about my life. Then the stupid snake I carry inside since childhood whispers in my ears and compares me to others - I should do this or that, be one way or another, own all sorts of stuff or whatever else I like about their lives and may want for myself. It could be constructive. It's not. Unless we're talking about people IDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-24121531774854789812013-04-25T08:14:00.000+03:002013-04-25T08:14:28.319+03:00Swollen
I slept for ten straight hours and woke up with a swollen face and some swollen sinuses. Also, tired like a mill horse and permanently on a mental screen saver. We'll be working on four newspapers this couple of days, so I might be incomunicado. All I want is for everything to turn out fine so that I can finally have my vacation. A ten day vacation! They say it's gonna rain, but I don't give a Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-41582672218580215082013-04-24T02:47:00.003+03:002013-04-24T19:36:04.107+03:00You know what? You never know.
I wrote this for Mischievous Sweethearts, but I've been thinking about it a few days now.
I'm writing this while drunk on shame wine and soapy radio. I don't even
know if soapy is a word, but I don't remember the right one. Anyhow.
I've been told a week and so ago that being alone for so long is just
not natural. Fine, that liking being alone so much isn't natural. And
it's been obsessing Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-58015688194411166952013-04-22T18:36:00.002+03:002013-04-22T18:37:37.630+03:00Baking Sunday III: Strawberry tart
It wasn't actually Sunday, but I'm using the generic title :) This Saturday, I was coming from the pool and stopped to buy some strawberries, as I've seen them everywhere lately and took a chance to give them a try. Tasteless, of course, because the local sorts have not grown yet. So, as I wasn't going to get much pleasure from eating them, I decided to make a tart, to at least use their Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-54590781116817973982013-04-21T18:00:00.000+03:002013-04-21T18:00:42.682+03:00A personal brand of ecstasy
I'm back. And I must admit that my absence was due to a long period of lazyness combined with continuous sleazy partying. It's not that I haven't been doing anything, I've just been doing a lot of bad things. But I know how it goes, it's ups and downs and I'm feeling an upward trend is on, so I want to keep growing.
But here are the highlights. Bear with me, I know this is annoying, but I need Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-20424984808456200412013-04-02T21:09:00.001+03:002013-04-02T21:21:26.880+03:00I'm out"I'm having a terrible day. It's snowing in March, I have a hell of a cold and I hate my hair. And I've been thinking a lot lately (despite my fever) about things I've written about before. Such as the things I believe in and whether and how I stand for them"... is what I was writing this Wednesday. And then I just stopped because I was going to get all preachy and write things I might delete Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-12367340680371670872013-03-26T08:28:00.000+02:002013-03-26T08:28:25.544+02:00Globetrotting tastbuds II: JapaneseYesterday I went to the newest Japanese restaurant in town, Nobori, (it's not that new, but it is the latest opened) with a colleague. We wanted to try as much as possible, so we picked a day with an all you can eat bufet. Needless to say, we left the place barely walking. And I only had a serving of each thing and no soup. They had three types of soup available, but none of them made me curious.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542242635330868672.post-29274135205510297022013-03-24T21:46:00.001+02:002013-03-24T21:48:40.710+02:00Baking Sunday II: Swan eclair
I am so tired I wasn't going to write anything, but just fall into bed. However, I need to gather some will to remove my make-up, so I'll somehow do this today. The making of the eclairs actually began yesterday. Only they were assembled today. And my mom should get most of the credit, but I helped with every step, so here it is: we put 20 spoons of water and 20 of sunflower oil in a pot on theDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698109574915857219noreply@blogger.com0