Bird 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 pyrrhula). I couldn't miss them due to their adorable red chest and short fat beaks. They've been away for a couple of days, every day I could see them at lunch through the window. 

Now it's the time of the blackbirds (Turdus merula). I meet them in the morning, they like to snack around the nearby school and they seem to have become more and more accustomed to me. I still can't get a decent picture of one, though. I can't wait to hear them singing again.

A quite common presence is the great tit (Parus major). I can hear them when I come and go but they're restless little creatures. I think I'll never consider them to be common birds. That unusual green is nothing but special in the grey city.

Every morning there's a whole wire of puffed up carrion crows (Corvus corone corone) lining up the alley. They're also hanging around a lot in the trees I used to see the bullfinches on. There's always a lunch fight going on must mostly it looks like fun play. Their cousins, the hooded crows (Corvus corone cornix) are a bit more shy for some reason. In the country I remember they were quite used to having humans nearby all the time.

Aaand while I was stalking some blackbirds for a photo I happened accross a woodpecker (Dendrocopos major) going about its business. He did notice me for he was always going around the tree so I couldn't get a decent picture. 

Somehow we always think we are used to all these neighbors but we are strangers. Honestly, I couldn't name all of the birds when I first met them and I had to double check I got the species right. They are amazing resilient creatures in such cold days. 

I put up a bird feeder on my terrace but I think they're too shy to come so close to a home, especially when there's a river nearby where they can search the bushes and trees for food. But here close to my office they are living their little lives a bit closer. I'll keep looking at new places in the city and away for more and more birdies to watch and "collect".

*I didn't take any of the pictures - they're internet finds. But I want to start getting good at this. Hope I can soon use my own.

In 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 peak. I no longer find it strange I worry about things because semi-consciously I think if I don't those things can happen. Well, I know for sure they can also happen if I worry so that gives me even more to worry about. Yeah. But that's just the light part.
I've been worrying about the future, but worrying for my life and safety, not just if I graduate or pay my bills. It's all in the light of recent international events. My life has been great. 2016 was a great year for me. Doing the work I like, traveling a lot, being married to the man I love, seeing my friends and having a good relationship with family, having a nice home and an increasing income and upward professional career, and I've been pretty healthy as well. But I'm terrified as fuck because now I have all these things to lose.
I'm making myself sick with all this worrying and fuck this shit I'm done with caring and following what goes on in the world. My husband is serene. He does his thing, he thinks about the bridge when he gets to it and generally he does what he feels like doing and it's a recipe for success in his life. He gets shit done and is happy. But I read the news, I follow the economy, I stress about nuclear war and financial depression and cancer. And I can't really do much about most of these things. The factors are so many and the mechanisms so complex, I can't even grasp let alone handle them.
So this year my resolution is to not give a fuck. I will do my things. But I will be an island. Fuck I'll dig that moat as deep and wide as I can. How? Well, no more TV. Today we got Netflix. Star Trek, cooking shows, crime series, that's all the TV I'll get. I'll try to stay off Facebook. As much as I can. I want to enforce a no Facebook at home rule. And even when I do go there, I'm unfollowing all bearers of bad news. However much I love them. Generally, I'll try that for most social media.
But I'll try to hang on to this blog. Because I need focus. And I want to focus on the stuff I care about  inside my castle - books, cooking, games, staying healthy. These things I'll need to keep me busy. In 2016 I've had too much time to worry and think about shit. I have podcasts and budgets and people to see. I have kilometers to run and swim and weights to lift. I have learning and writing to do.
This is the real fucking world. This is where I live every day and I don't even look at it because I live in my head. I want to take up bird watching. And bird feeding. And go hiking again. What the fuck point is it to worry about the nuclear winter if I can't really enjoy right now the stuff it would wipe out (here it goes again). But really, look. This is the real fucking world and I intend to live in it. As an island. I want to know my island and love my island and enjoy it. I want to get strong and fast and handy and fearless.
In the end, this is what I'm after. This amazing freedom that comes with peace of mind and being able to set aside, chase away fear. I used to work in the news. Not anymore. I now research people who grow things - food and life. And I intend to do the same. And if it takes a lot of shoveling to get me going, if it takes some horse glasses to finally see what's right in front of me, dammit, I owe myself to pull up my sleeves and go to work.

The 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 countries. Some are coming back. Life is very different, in theory, but I feel the same.

Actually, in all honesty, I feel better about myself. I've been keeping away from people and situations that make me feel terrible. I gave up drinking. I gave up harmful friends. I no longer allow others to make me feel inadequate. And I've had a great time learning from people on an app called YOU about what a supportive community can bring to one's life. I've been conscious about the amazing happiness of having a family of my own. I've treated myself with kindness and tried to enjoy giving.
These are the things that actually matter when catching up. I sometimes wish I could sit down with a long time friend and tell them these things. But none of us really talk about the big things, do we?

Obliterated

I 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 small things. It obliterates the small pleasures of vanity that come with clothing, the infinite delight that food can bring into one's life, it even obliterates the sun for me, because the meat suit is no longer compatible with the standards. If it ever was. It obliterates my love, for I have a constant desire to hide and not to play, not to enjoy, it obliterates me as a whole being because the vessel has come to represent everything inside, and really made it irrelevant. I have been obliterated by my aging body and it's taking over my whole life, replacing pleasure with shame, ambition with fear, love with loneliness. The more it grows, the less I am.

Dear 2015

I'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 be getting to full speed in the spring. It sounds like the stars support me in my main objective of finishing my PhD this year. This will put me on my desired career track, they say.
Now that I've changed homes and gotten engaged, you will be the year I settle down for real and start growing roots. I'm more of an anchor kind of girl, so it will be a pretty big change in the way I relate to everything. What I want most is to practice kindness and to be aware of the things I need to grow. Really, most of all I want structure, so that I can enjoy this life of emotional comfort while navigating smoothly through tasks that usually drain me.
All in all, you seem like a nice year, with nice money (although they all recommend me to save and make the right decisions), constant work towards things I've wanted for myself (but without outstanding changes) and a good life with my loved ones. Honestly, I am still so beat after 2014, all of this looks great to me. Cheers!

One 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 labels for things I should be writing every week. I should be sharing at least one of the awesome stuff I cook and at least a little of the books and movies that eat away my free time, and some memories of my travels and, the new thing, a little diary of the construction of my look. Which is not a defined thing, but more like a theatre dressing room, and that is fine, and it's fun and it's something I'd like to share. And then, if I still have the time, I want to keep whining on the main page of this blog.

I also want to start a PhD diary. I hope I get my ass to work so that I can say something about it. Anything at all. Because I want to finish it. I need a break from the academia for a while, because we've been having this distant relationship that doesn't make me happy or excited anymore. If we're not going to break up, we at least need to see other people. I might want to go back to school a year from now. But considering although they like me they didn't put at least a tutoring or research assistance offer on it I have to realize I'm not getting what I wanted from this relationship and move on. There are plenty of careers in the sea, and according to them I'm everything they ever wanted (ok, I'm pulling your leg here). But really, I can't do this anymore. And it's not me, it's them.

I'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 gotten a bit messy, but in a good way. I guess it's a little like when a really quiet and tidy couple have their first child. Things get noisy and dirty and nothing is anymore where it should be, and a lot of stuff is put aside. But you are so happy and everything is so new and exciting, that you just don't care anymore.
 Not that my life is all new. I just feel like it is, every day. And I don't really get to plan or dwell in the past. Because I keep going while I get to enjoy so much. I work at the same newspaper and teach the same class. I haven't advanced with my dissertation and I rarely see my friends and family. But the times I do get to see them, it's great, and I am grateful every day. I am actually always in between homes and work and school and meetings, but it evens out, as I get to lay back and relax, watch a few show I enjoy and debate with my boyfriend and just be generally awesome.
This is my Monday voice, when everything is full of possibilities, because I, for one, don't mind going back to work or planning a full day, including workouts, cooking and some right about time housework. I'll be having a short week at work, actually two of them, and some five free days in between. So I'll use up as much of my energy as I feel like, because there will be plenty of time to replenish it. Yesterday I baked a really great chocolate peanut butter cake and if I'm not too lazy, I'll post it soon under yet another (not quite) Sunday baking post. Also, I must interest you in this Clive Barker novel I'm reading. It's exhausting, but freaking mindblowing. Like most things nowadays, I guess!

Crushed

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 doesn't even allow me to breathe, let alone cry. I tried the drinking, the working, the talking. None of it works. Maybe the writing will work. Followed by bathing and chocolate eating. And a lobotomy, please! I don't really know how much longer I can do this to myself. Giving myself over to others has been the worse idea I've repeatedly had over the course of my life. One day I will turn into that bitter old maid. And then maybe I will finally be numb.

If 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 only problem with this is that now it doesn't only affect me. It affects my family and my love and my cat and even my work. I get to see people hastily, I fall asleep when watching movies, I break stuff and I can't spend a solid hour with the cat in my lap, because I have to multitask, of course. And I'm still behind on the cleaning and the writing, I have so many meetings I have to schedule and well, I'm low on money.
Somehow, I just wish I could get a happy pill, something that would give me tons of energy, do my sleeping while I fold my landry and allow me to work at double capacity. I just need to catch up with everything and not have to drag myself from task to task because my head hurts like a bitch, I get cold and hot every other minute and my nose is like a broken fountain. Not to mention I am constantly asleep deep inside, but no amount of time under the covers really does it for me anymore.
So, yes, I obviously came here only to bitch and complain, because I can't keep doing this to other people. I'll write about it until it gets better, until I get better.

Love 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 further home and I wanted to take him to some people from an animal protection association that had an adoption stand nearby. He would not come, as there were many dogs and he was obviously afraid of them. So we sat again for a while, I was petting him and we were looking at the dogs playing. I then had to let him go, as I don't have the space to even foster him. I do hope he gets the chance to have a good life somehow.
I kept thinking as we were sitting side by side that me petting him and him following me home does matter. It does matter when creatures share affection. When they stop to really be by each other, even for a while. And when I said love I obviously did not mean romantic love. I meant heart soothing love, warmth, openness, that thing that is just there for everything on earth and sky, but we just choose to channel it somehow. And love matters. It may not feed us, clothe us or shelter us. Though sometimes maybe it does, it's what makes the world go round.

I have this habit of collecting strays. I can't keep them, but I can't walk by and not pet them or say a nice word. I do that a lot with humans too. The world just seems less empty. Just like animals, we get to be both saviors and the saved ones. We get to end up around the weirdest people who just hang out and maybe we want things from them, but in the end the thing is we get to love them just because, no matter how fucked up we all are. We also get to meet the nicest people who seem to stick around and we want things from them as well, but in the end we get to feel loved just because, no matter how little we think we deserve it.
Love matters because it yanks us out of our retarded bubble where we think we know how things should be done in life, it throws us into this whirling pit of amazement and inner light, because it teaches us so much about ourselves and keeps us curious about others. Love matters because we never get to be our full potential, but from time to time we do get to be enough and, trust me, that is a wonderful thing to be. I spend a lot of time berating myself but I believe love matters because it's the best mirror we'll ever have. Our mirror should not tell us "who's the fairest of them all", but it should say "you is kind, you is smart, you is important".

It'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 and my antique ring and my cat is parading around the house and we're listening to Charlie Parker and smelling scented candles. I am so very tired it would have been a disaster if I went out. I'm not that stupid to think a big change in haircut will mean a big change in my life. But I am that stupid to keep reading and writing and talking to friends, trying to not give up on the struggle to make something of myself, and that would be a strong autonomous being who will be nice randomly and will bake at the most inappropriate hours. I will give myself the time to handle whatever comes my way at my own pace. Short or long hair, I want beauty to be what I make of it.

Naturally

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 seems I am too intense and hard to handle. I do act a lot like my train is about to leave the station. And I am demanding. I have every right to be. I am worth every bit of hard work and I deserve to be with somebody who makes me happy. Somebody who doesn't cloud my heart with their make believe issues. Who cares what I've been up to. Who makes room for me in his life.
But I won't. If this is really happening, I'm giving up for good. I'm giving up on everything. All the good things I will walk by are nothing compared to how demeaning this past month has been for me. I don't want to put myself in that position anymore. Where I can be forsaken any day and not matter much. I just can't do any of this anymore.

Girls 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 rebelling against the idea of being a character in somebody else’s story. I wanted to write my own."
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the distinction between the two, but also about how much the TV show Girls reflects experiences that many of us, even on the other side of the ocean, live through in our mid twenties. I like to call these years the quarter life crisis, because that's the general feeling I've been living with: a constant interogation about where I'm going and why my trajectory is so different from that of my parents, and the one they taught me I should have, for that matter.
But going back to Girls (I've been obsessed with watching the two seasons for a second time, since I have so much school work to do), I saw this caption a few days ago and I almost cried. It was about when Hannah asked Adam "If you don't like ice cream, what do you like?" and he answered "I like you". I mean, who says that?

I really wish I could say my Adam turned into that guy who "was always here". I wish at least one of my Adams did. But in my experience, it doesn't work like that. A guy who doesn't respect you and only sees you as a random hook up will not wake up one day and say "You chase me like I’m in the fucking Beatles for six months and then when I finally get comfortable with things, you wanna shrug?" He will not go and tell people "I had this girlfriend who at first I didn’t like very much, or, I didn’t take her very seriously, I guess. She just seemed like, you know, a piece of ass. But she was persistent, man. And she just hung around, and hung around, and showed up at my place—and gradually, it started to feel better when she was there. It wasn’t “love” the way I imagined it. I just felt weird if I didn’t know what she was up to or whatever. And I liked knowing that she was just gonna be there, and warm, and staying the night." That. never. happens. to. me.
But generally, if we look closer, Girls is a simulacrum for what becoming a woman means to some of the people of our generation. We learn from Marnie's self-searching adventure, we learn from Hannah's self-abandonment chaos, from Shoshanna's rants and mostly from Jessa, who is her own brand of charming. I think that no matter how much we grow up, we'll always be vulnerable to our desires, especially to those we cannot explain. And at the end of the day, we should just own it.

Birthday 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,, things you cannot buy. So here it goes.

1. A great party
I want to finally be able to say, wow, my birthday this year was fun. Especially since all the ages from here to 35 are like second on my "ages I hate" list (23 still sucks the most). So I want people to not despise each other on my birthday, to drink and be merry. I want them to wear the stupid princess paper tiaras I'll bring. I will not take no for an answer. I want them to eat my muffins, I'm obviously baking for my own birthday, duuh. And I'm thinking about spicy. And generally, I want to feel at home and at peace and leave that damn party with a smile on my face.
2. An OK on my PhD report
Yep. I have to present my PhD first research report right on my birthday. Needless to say, I am way behind and I know I will panic and I will eventually turn something in. But I want it to be fine, I wanna start my third year and I really wish people will be supportive and help me from now on with my paper. I really wanted this degree and now I want it even more because I can't wait to move on.
3. Another tattoo
I know the last one has just healed, but I really really have my mind set on this awesome kitty/jolly roger idea, where I will use Emily Strange's Sabbath's head as an inspiration. The crossed bones are definitely a must. I'm thinking the interior of my right foot. That's because no matter how many people in my life will want her gone, my kitty will always be one of my centers of balance.
4. Dr. Martens
There had to be shoes on this list. Thing is I went with my friend to the shop to get a pair and they didn't have his size. Instead, I found my dream pair I had been staring at for a while. So I'm buying them. When I'm done with my report. To congratulate myself.
5. New (ear)rings
I want to change my ear and belly piercing jewelry with some simple rings with a ball. The tiniest ones, with that stupid ball I can never get in. It's silly, but these are the things on my mind when I think about going around getting myself stuff. But I never do, because I'm a lazy bastard.
6. Llosa
Yes, apart from shoes, there also had to be books on this list. I've been buying myself Rushdie and Joseph Conrad and goddess knows what, but I've been yearning to follow up on my readings of Llosa, epecially after his visit to my city and the wonderful speech he gave.
7. A mix tape
Seriously, I never ever know what to listen to. And I also think a mix tape is something personal, that one person gives another to convey a message, to strenghten a bond. The last mix tape (OK, CD) I got was in my first year of college. It would be nice to have somebody put together a set of songs for me, that would take some commitment and I could use some of that lately.

Womanifesto

(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 or to be perfect.
I am whiny and bitchy, I get lazy and am a mess, but it's all me and I love it.
I will not measure my success by outside standards.
I am not worth how much money I make. I am not worth how beautiful people think I am.
I believe in education and I want to keep learning for the rest of my life.
I believe in stability, but I will pull my anchor and move on when I choose to.
I believe in food, in its comforting and educational potential.
My body will be a reflection of me and not some farfetched standards others will project upon me.
My clothes will be my costumes and I will play any character I'd like any given day.
My tattoos are a part of me and even more. My tattoos empower me.
My cat is an extension of me. Her love is the only constant in my life.
My career will be kindness. No matter how I make a living, I will strive to be kind.
My love is not unconditional. I will not give it to those who don't want or abuse it.
My choice and pleasure will surpass social convention and others' expectations.
I am not moral, incorruptible, honest or humble. I am human and I make mistakes.
I cherish my life experience, my family and my true friends. I am here because of them.
I will allow myself to be overwhelming, embarassing, shameless and crazy.
I will love myself for all the things I am. And I will change whenever I feel like.
I will be selfish. And empathic to the verge of stupid. It is not a contradiction.
At the end of the day, it's just me. And I love it.

Feels 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 I'm becoming more of myself. That it's always been there and it's just come to light. And what's really amazing about a bigger tattoo is that it makes me feel like I own my body. Not my parents, not men, not society. I do. And I can make it any species of beauty I want to. It's mine 24/7 and every time I take a shower or see myself in the mirror, I am so excited. I know I will get more over time, and I let almost an year in between them pass, so that I know for sure. But the longing is always there. There is so much more beauty to bring tolight and so many more stories to tell. It actually makes me wish that I took better care of my body. That I kept it fit and ate healthy, so that my skin glow and firmness would actually frame my tattoos better. I was lucky to find a very nice artist, who works fast and well, and who spent a lot of time deciding with me what we'll be doing exactly. I want to post photos of the first part, the outlines, only when it's healed, so a week from now. In a month, I'm going for color. I can't even imagine the magic he'll do with old school colouring!

Tempting 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 happens if my life stays the same? Why don't I do great things right now? (And I answered it's because I'm too busy being awesome).
So, crash, boom, bang! The goddess thought she should give me a lesson. And she did. Both the cat and I went to bed scared and bewildered, the main diference being I was also guilt tripping. At least I didn't have any nightmares. But I'm learning, cause it's plain and simple. I'll have to be more careful about the things that I want and the things I let people think I want. The first thing: I need to invest more in the ones I really want. Give them time and discipline and cultivate them. The second thing: things I would like, but don't really want, well, I should just make the difference early on and not act upon them ever, cause there must be a reason they didn't graduate to desires. And a third thing: I need to learn to let go. Of things and people and life choices that no longer make me happy or suit me.

The last thought I had before I fell asleep was that I buy clothes and food I don't need immedialy, but I want them in order to create an array of choices for myself. I do the same thing with people. I hang around people who make me unconfortable or who I don't have any respect for just because I want to have a choice when I go out. That is a stupid thing to do. Lately, I haven't been to at least one of these outings and think to myself when I get home: Wow, that was good for me, I had fun and I learned stuff. OK, I'm exaggerating, there have been a few, but those were with my close friends, like it happened last evening. I was talking about the clutter. The parties that take both time and money for basically nothing, cause I enjoyed myself more at Jazz Day than in any of our bachic experiences.
There goes that. I keep telling myself I have to quit these things and stop indulging these people. That I can replace their presence with all the wonders the world lays at my feet. I only fail at discipline. I fail when I want to be miserable, when I want to crawl somewhere and hide. I need a new strategy for miserable. It should include baking and crazy ol' blues. It should include cheering myself up with flowers and needlework. Not beers and people I should do without. Parties are for when I'm cheerful and rested and surrounded by people I actually want in my life.

Holiday 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 I have no connection to whatsoever, like whatever is posted on Pinterest. I don't want *those* shoes, it just makes me think about things I can use to create the looks I like. Whatever, I don't even know why I brought this up. I'm just realizing I'm so intense about so many little things, I consume myself before I get to the ones that really matter. I didn't even feel that yesterday was just one day. It felt like three, for some reason, even though all I did was read, watch Poirot and cook and bake with my mother. And that's also because of the damned social media.
A week of my holiday is gone, there's almost only two days left (though I'm sure Tuesday will be a pretty relaxed day at work). I did a lot of stuff. On Saturday I visited my grandma and went to the cemetery to lay flowers for all those who passed. It was a beautiful day and I dare say it wasn't a sad occasion. We remembered them with joy in our hearts. On  Sunday I visited a friend and saw another play. The reviews I read were pretty bad, so I didn't go with high expectations. I was pleasantly surprised. I liked the construction, most of the acting, the rhythm and the twist. I have to start going to the Hungarian theatre as well, I've seen some hot stuff on the schedule.
Monday was a day for movies, there was a Romanian film week at the cinema in the city. I particularly enjoyed Alexandru Maftei's bitter sweet comedy, if there were no people around me I would have cried like a mountain spring, but it left me with so much peace of mind. Later on, I went with a friend to check out the music at this new rock party they're planning on Mondays, and the theme was supposed to be glam. We were bored to death, had a beer and moved on. The next day I decided pretty much at the last moment to attend the International Jazz Day concert. and I'm happy I did. Again, I found peace where I least expected. Walking home through the park that night, I felt like humming.
I spent the 1st of May with the family in the mountains. When we got there it was kinda raining, but it's not like we ever take the weather there seriously. The next day it was beautiful, I read a lot and sunbathed with one of our dogs there. Yesterday we made cakes and colored the eggs. I was so happy to see they had stickers and I enjoyed myself a lot decorating the eggs and creating scenarios. They didn't need me today in the kitchen, but I went anyway, to check out the proceedings. Tonight I have to attend the midnight mass, otherwise my mom will yell about it for a week. At least there's my brother around to bitch about stuff.
So yeah, I'm planning a super low profile Easter. It's not like I consider holidays to be the highlight of my time. Actually, they're breaks from the stuff I actually do. And it's so funny to see people get tans and new clothes for a family lunch and maybe a party somewhere. I can't really explain it, but it feels petty and pathetic. But here I go again comparing myself to others. Blogs must be part of the same evil conspiration :P

Swollen

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 damn. I need some regrouping, resetting and time out of the city. I know I always say I need to get my shit together. Repeated trials may eventually lead to success. I bought Palahniuk's Phoenix from Amazon and I already know how I'm spending today's free time, except for sleeping and eating crazy things, of course. Here's something to brighten your morning to the dim level mine is lit.

You 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 me ever since. So now I'm clearing it up.
I'm fine. Really. I love watching movies on my own. I love going to the theater all alone. I love my time with the cat at home, reading, cooking and baking mischief. I love my job, my education and my family. Chill. I won't die without a man by my side. I love them men. They make amazing friends, lovers and puzzles. But they're not obligatory. There's not that much room in my bed. All I need is great conversation and pretty sporadic sex.
The thing is. I've been promising myself the next penis I offer more than action time to will be owned by a man I can see as an equal and a partner. But at the same time, I'm not willing to give up on the exciting times that come with meeting extraordinarily talented boys. I believe in them saving the world one word, song or play at the time. And maybe they need a push (or more, if you know what I mean) and I'm the girl for the job. Or not. I'm  making a retarded groupie joke. What I mean is I won't give up on the prospective fascinating passion stories, be them romantic or gothic.
But I won't be looking for them. I don't even know why I need to explain this, but have you ever imagined what the men in my books and movies can do? What the men in my songs tell me? Are they any different from the ephemeral love real men can offer me? I can buy my own wine and create my own handmade orgasms, thankyouverymuch. What I want to see is extra quality. I need dream makers and dream catchers. I need shameless impossible to keep pace with men. I want breathlessness and piercing brains. I must have mindblowind indescribable pleasure. Why would I settle? It's not like it's gonna get any better otherwise. I require euphoria!