I won’t miss you.
You were a shitty year all over. Seriously.
And now that you’re leaving, I’m ill, with a throat that feels like a bag of rocks and a cold sore on my lip the size of Mount Doom, with my grandpa at the hospital recovering after surgery and my parents dead tired, bouncing between our home and the hospital, and a car whose poor right side has been scratched all over due to my amazing parking skills.
You won’t hear me complain, 2009. Why bother. There are millions of people with problems far worse than mine. Actually, billions.
But begone, ok? I’ve had enough with you.
2010, bring it on. I’ll kick your ass all the way to Patagonia if I need to.
Happy New Year, everyone. Be healthy, mkay?
Yesterday was one of the most emotional and surreal days of my life.
Surreal enough to get me writing again.
After three years of work and some months of preparation, I quit my job at Phaistos Networks.
It’s been a real pleasure to work with the great people there. I’ve gained friends I could not hope for. I’ve learned more stuff that can fit my tiny brain. And I’ve got the kind of precious experience that comes from working with really talented people that are passionate about what they do, at all times.
Needless to say (and as much of a stuck-up bitch I seem at times), things got pretty emotional. I’ll miss working there, but it was time for me to go on.
A new path, exciting as well as totally terrifying, unfolds now in front of me.
Expect that in the next few months, you’ll see some more of me.
Stay tuned.
Traveling to France was one of my childhood dreams.
I think every little girl that grows up with romantic visions of Paris in her head feels like that. Six years of awesome french lessons with Mme Angèlique didn’t help either – I always wanted to go to France and I wanted it bad.
This year, after a series of unfortunate events, my dream came true. Some random thoughts about Paris, in no particular order:
- French people are nothing like the sour, narrow-minded, impolite blurry vision I had formed in my head. At least, most of them. They’re seriously polite (I’ve lost count of mercis and bonjours) and willing to help you, even if you’re a (*gasp*) tourist. Funny fact: one of the guards at Eiffel Tower talked to us (quite fluently) in Greek, explaining prices and options. How cool is that?
- Paris is the most beautiful European capital I’ve been to, and one of the best-looking European capitals. Simple fact.
- I think I spent as much time over earth as under it. Paris métro is HUGE. And smelly. “Our” line, line 14 (St Lazare – Olympiades) was one of the cleanest and most civilized, though.
- Monmartre was kinda disappointing. So touristic and full of people. Exploring it under 35 degrees Celsius didn’t help, either.
- I’m afraid I didn’t really like French cuisine, eventhough I’ve not tasted much of it. Advice: when in doubt, never order andouillette. Trust me. Unless you like raw kokoretsi.
- …on a different note, Paris was a snacker heaven. Croissants, paninis, sandwiches, slices of pies… oh my!
- I *love* walking kilometres around the different neighbourhoods and exploring the city in ways no tourist guide would ever allow. That’s what I did in Rome and that’s what I’ll do in my next trip.
- Another fact: in some restaurants in Paris, Coke (or other sodas) cost way more than a glass of french wine.
- I must be the only tourist that lived in Paris for a week and didn’t visit the Louvre museum after all. I’m unique!
À bientôt, Paris!
I’ll be back to check the rest of you, for sure.
P.S. On a (somewhat) related note, what’s wrong with Italian people and english? Seriously. They’re so foreign-language-agnostic it becomes offensive at times. There was this pesky Italian tourist in Eiffel Tower elevator that kept correcting the French elevator girl when she was making announcements in italian. I felt like clubbing him in the head.
