This is me. Like it or hate it, Tatiana Daily will carry this message full steam ahead. I do hope it brings you hope, in some way, that all will be OK at the end.
Believe in the power of you.
And the power of a gin&tonic.
These pictures show my precious possessions. Family (my husband, my parents, my puppy), my travel memories, my hometown, my passion, my writing, my neighbourhood, my sense of fashion and my palate. And these make me who I am. These will influence my writing and at the same way are my “why”, my reason to live life and to be the best that I can be.
Blue and yellow. The colours of my birthplace's flag. The colours of OUR restaurant. The colours of our shoes and my flowers. The colours of my heart. Oh, these are also the colours of one of the rival teams of the football club I support back home. Nothing is perfect. Nothing.
the race car driver and the beauty queen.
We have a huge family. My dear grandmother had ten kids. Poor her. But her heart was that big. One cannot choose family. But if I had a chance I would not change a thing. For the good and for the bad. And the good must be my parents. I look up to them. They are my pillars and every single day the anxiety of losing them settles in. Makes me love them even more. Nevertheless, a f*cking feeling. My dad, the race car driver. My mom, the beauty queen, the most beautiful girl on the island.
Ja'Crispy II, you came into our lives and you have changed everything. I am still in awe of how this little fella has changed me. He made me pull myself together as he needed someone to care for him. He made me take my ass off the office chair and get outside and go for a walk. And when we go outside he is truly a blessing. Even the most sad-looking person smiles when he starts to run towards them. A spreader of smiles. When in need of one maybe you can catch us at North Kensington. But please be aware that he might bite. The scratches on my ankles can attest for that. Nothing better that to wake up with those on my way to the loo.
my wedding story through shoes.
From "I need to hurry, everyone is waiting for me" and "I cannot have smelly feet when I arrive at the church", to "Hell yeah, I am wearing Dior shoes! I am owning this!" and "Sh*t, I am taller than my husband now" and "Should have walked in these before! to finally "My feet are hurting like crazy!" and "I want to have fun and dance and drink and go to the swimming pool with worrying about ruining my shoes". Always making sure I am not one more of the herd.
the place where God would pick to be born again.
I am so proud to have been born in this small piece of heaven on earth. Everything in me, the accent, the way I like my beer, the love for the sea, the way I drive, the being stubborn, highly critical of food and proud of our land, shall remain untouched. I will never change it. This is who I am. This is the land that saw me grow. And this is the land that has so much more to offer than a famous football player. I like him, don't get me wrong. But I prefer Messi.
how not to use an atm machine in dubai.
Don't get me wrong, Dubai was awesome and we had fun like kings there (will advise later on how to interact with the ATM machines, do always count the zeros before pressing the correct option) but our hotel was far from the beach and the beach we could go by minibus had huge rocks on the sea bed, like huge. Was fun though. It felt like I was swimming on a murky hot tab. These were THE holidays of my life. Would give everything to go back. Repeat mode in a constant loop. Will this be possible again in the future? Will my anxiety let me? F*ck, I need to kick it in the butt but my mind has a mind of its own sometimes. Longer hair, that is what I aiming now. Oh, and the tan as well.
it goes down well with an ice-cold sangria.
One of the best spots in the Algarve to eat. And to drink sangria (never drink and dive people, please). These carabineiros were the freshest and the tastiest. After a great morning at the beach. Your hair is messy, your lips salty and your skin is still absorbing some of the sea water. The sun is still kissing your skin. The waves cyclically hit the sand. You gaze onto an endless beach almost empty and then it happens. The first bite of the carabineiros' flesh scarred by the grill. And there it is, the lemon. And there it is, the parsley and the butter. And there it is, the glorious sangria.
I still remember asking my husband what was the tube station of the next house we were going to visit. It was the first house to let that we had visited and I just felt it. "This is the one.". My husband ignored me and wanted to visit the remaining houses that we had picked. I did not want to visit this one but it just conquered me. I must believe more in my intuition. This is the first place I can call home since I left my parents' home at 17. Thank you, London. Thank you, North Kensington. Thank you for making me feel welcome.
this is what I am meant to do.
In every professional role, I have been engaged, I have always wondered and asked myself if my job helped others. And the answer was always no. That thought kept banging in my head. I was not meant to sit all day in the office through .xls and .doc files (don't get me wrong, I did have a period where I loved doing this; it happened when I was surrounded by the best work colleagues and the best managers I could have asked for). However, I always felt like my voice was trapped and that my words could not get out of my head. And finally, the time came to set it free. And here it is. My voice. Hope you enjoy it.