Today is just another ordinary day.

My (and his™) iPhone alarms went off at 8am, but I woke up half an hour later because I couldn’t sleep properly last night. Despite the insomnia, I was in a pretty good mood, humming softly while I brushed my teeth and got into my running shorts. I made sure I had a 30-min run today by taking a glimpse in my miCoach schedule on the iPhone and briefly checked my e-mail.

I was pulling my hair up in a ponytail when he™ got in the bathroom and told me the news.

I rushed to my iMac to find my Twitter stream exploding. I briefly scrolled through the messages while plugging my iPhone to sync some new songs from my iTunes running mix. Closed the iPhone 4S tab that I was checking out last night, as well as the keynote (is it called now a Timnote?) presentation from the iPhone event. I opened up Apple.com. Then Wired.com. Then Google.com.

I typed some half-assed tweet in my Apple keyboard and shuffled around my Macbook Pro to find my sunglasses and my iPhone armband. While running, I was thinking how cool would be if we could use Siri on our Macs. Surely it’d be amazing to tell Siri create an appointment in iCal while I’m typing in an article in Pages…

Today is just another ordinary day.

* This is a really personal post for me. You have to allow me the lack of comments. Thank you.

This September (apart from my cat’s first birthday, according to his vet) marks another anniversary, personal this time: it’s been a year since the moment that I got tired of being full-time sedentary and started running¹.

What’s in a year? 400 kilometres, or 30.000 calories, or 180 days out in the park, putting one foot in front of the other and trying to shake my previous lifestyle off my shoulders (and legs).

I’ve written this post to help people who are thinking about starting to run. It’s been one of the few habits that stuck with me and I really want more people to get up from their chairs and start moving, because it’s a life-changing decision.

I have to admit though, I’m not a pro athlete nor a doctor, so take my advice with a grain of salt.

Ready…

First things first: you’re gonna sweat. Don’t expect to look like a supermodel when running, and if you do, well, it’s not really working. I’ve got to terms with my looks while running. I call it “stroke chic”.

You’re not gonna lose weight just by running. You’re going to feel lighter and healthier, yes. You’re going to feel like you’re ready to conquer the world because of the whole endorphin rush. But you’re not losing your beer belly or muffin top without altering your eating habits. I know I didn’t get much slimmer (because I love good food).

Get good shoes. I’m a fan of the Asics GEL Kayano series, I have the 16 ladies model. Very sturdy shoe, perfect for all-around running. I’ve been wearing it for almost a year now and it shows no to very little damage.

Get good tunes. Sure, you can run while listening to Barry White, but why not opt for something more upbeat? My usual workout playlist is a crappy mainstream mix I’ve found on Spotify. It helps me keep my rhythm, and by now my brain is wired to go into running mode as soon as I start listening to it. If I’m not in the mood for mainstream music, I switch to my iTunes to listen to friskyPodcast for some proper mixes (thanks Graham for the recommendation).

Get coached. If you’re like me, you’re into RPGs and you love the quests and achievements mechanism. Both Adidas miCoach and Nike+ iPhone apps have coaching programmes you can use to set goals and motivate yourself. I started with Nike+ (they’ve got an excellent Walk to Run programme) and then I switched to miCoach, which offers perfect control over your training schedule.

Steady…

Be patient and build a solid base. Don’t expect to run a 5K just like that. At first you’re going to sweat blood – when I started, I could run non-stop for maybe 45 seconds before seeing black spots. Things get better though. Even if I sometimes stop running for 10 to 20 days when I’m busy, I know I can keep running for 25 to 30 minutes when I come back.

Find your rhythm. Don’t run for 45 minutes one day and 10 minutes the next one. Don’t start too fast, you’re gonna burn out. Keep a slow steady rhythm and only go faster when (if) your coaching programme says so. Don’t forget to rest between runs.

Run when you feel like to, but preferably early in the day or late in the afternoon. That’s especially aimed to beginners who live in warmer climates. If you keep running at noon under the scorching sun for days on end, things are going to get ugly. It’s dumb and it’s dangerous. Bonus: if you run in the morning, even if your day is crappy and unproductive, you will still have accomplished something. Keep that thought.

Go!

Don’t give up. Cliché? Maybe. Just DON’T GIVE UP. Even when you feel you’re going to throw up, when you’re sweating like a pig and feel you’re ready to faint, keep going. It’s years of sedentary life that scream in agony, not your body. Put one foot in front of the other and keep moving².

After a while, it gets to you. I promise. I used to hate running, but nowadays, if I don’t run, I gaze longingly at the park I usually train every time I drive by. Really.

¹ Well, running, fast shuffling, what’s the difference anyway?
² That is, unless you have some heart condition or anything that could get worse with exercise. In that case, consult a doctor first.

Last night, while I was walking towards home, a stranger felt up my derrière.

Thought you misread? Let me rephrase: while I was returning home last night from my weekly trip to Stelios‘ place for our podcast, a random man on a scooter approached me, slowed down, grabbed my bum and drove away.

Here I was, thinking about wireframes and workflows and a Mac app, when suddenly I felt a hand on my ass.

What. The. Fuck.

My first (and only) reaction was shock. I just stood there, totally speechless, and watched him leaving without as much as a shout.

At first I thought I was stupid for not screaming. Then I thought, maybe it was someone I know. But then, I don’t keep grab-yo-bum relationships with anyone apart the boyfriend™, and even he wouldn’t dare to do that in plain sight, while I’m walking alone at night.

Then I realized what happened. And I felt like shit.

Do you know what’s worse? I momentarily felt guilty. I thought – hey, maybe my jeans were hanging too low. Maybe they were too tight. Maybe I moved too much while walking, do I do that really? I must stop it, then, it’s provocative. That stupid female remorse that’s wired in our brains.

I’m not big on feminism and I’ve been quite vocal about it. I think it creates a huge divide between the two genders that’s uncalled for. If we, women, want to be treated as equals, we have to start behaving like we are. The whole thing seems a bit whiney to me.

But one jackass in a motorcycle helmet managed to lessen me and my big mouth to pulp.

That prick.

The subject is touchy. Therefore I won’t tolerate jokes in the comnents. In fact – screw it, I’m closing them off completely for this post only.

I have a love/hate relationship with web design.

It’s what I like to do. When I first coded a website, looked at it and thought “hey, that’s nice”, I decided that’s what I wanted to do for a living. Even though I have a Computer Science degree and I’m lacking in graphic skills, I love learning about the basics of design through trial & error.

On the other hand, empty Photoshop documents scare me to death. When a project starts and I have to start thinking out of the box, my mind shuts down. For a person as dependent on method and rules as I am, creativity is a huge struggle sometimes. I can prototype and wireframe a project’s ass off, but when it comes to design, I feel like a rabbit in front of headlights. So many possibilities!

Long story short, I get quite paranoid while designing a website. And I thought I should share it with you, dear readers.

Here are the phases I’m going through while designing:

1st phase: Fear of the dark blank slate

Launch Photoshop. File > New. Stare at the screen till eyes feel tingly. Shut down Photoshop and open WoW. Play till eyes bleed.

2nd phase: GTD

I’m feeling quite guilty at the moment, so I usually break up the design process in itsy little steps and enter them in OmniFocus. I start working on the first todo, typically “Launch Photoshop”. Something fancy gets my attention on Twitter. 90 minutes and 12 clicks later, I launch Photoshop and create a new document.

3rd phase: Procrastination

I start translating my wireframes to .psd talk. Typically, that means that I just copy my wireframe to Photoshop, trying as hard as possible to avoid any kind of creative thinking at this point. I obsess over grey boxes and alignment, till I remind myself the finished result will hopefully not look anything like it. I try to switch my mind to creative mode.

4rd phase: Guilt

By now, quite some time has passed and I’ve got nothing to show. I turn to the web for inspiration. It dawns to me: every web designer out there is more productive and creative than me! Every single link I click on is a nightmare. There’s a devil on my shoulder whispering “See how well she’s done it? And in so little time? Try to beat THAT”.

5rd phase: Denial

This is the worst phase, both for me and the people around me. I become moody and unapproachable. I answer to questions with grunts. I mope around the house, wearing pj’s and eating trash food. I’m convinced I’m a fraud, that I somehow managed to cheat people into thinking I’m a designer. No colour scheme works, Photoshop tools give me hell, I can’t even draw a straight line. I sometimes cry. I sometimes have fits. All in all, I behave like a brat.

6th phase: Spark

While browsing every website from Dribbble to Youporn [NSFW obviously / but safe for MY work / mwahahaha / yeah.] and squeezing my mind trying to come up with something, I see it. My spark. My inspiration igniter. It doesn’t have to be a full website, it can be a background or a button or a textured line. The world shifts, everything clicks into place, a feeling of warmth inside me tells me: Everything’s gonna be alright.

7th phase: Execution

That’s where the real design happens. I form a bubble around my design. I’ve been known to talk to myself during this phase – things like “Oh I know! It’ll look exactly like this” are occasionally heard in Casa Sugar. I design like there’s Devil hot on my tail. Sometimes I forget to breathe. Double rainbows all across the sky, unicorns fetch me sandwiches and I keep wondering “Gee, how could I question myself? I’m a great designer”. Yeah, modesty doesn’t really work in this phase.

8th phase: Delivery

[Save for Web|Archive]. Fire up Gmail. Attach & send.

And this happens every. Single. Time.

If that’s not a love/hate relationship, I don’t know what is.

This month, I officially celebrate my first 6 months as a freelancer. Surprisingly enough, one of the reasons I quit my day job and went the self-employed route was because I wanted to work less, not more. I don’t want to get rich sacrificing my personal life. I just want to achieve a balance.

So this year, I’ve done the unthinkable: I gave myself a full month of vacation time. August is a (really) slow month in Greece anyway, since temperatures have the bad habit of raising to and beyond 30C (~90F). Surely not an appropriate environment for slaving in front of a text editor.

The moment my vacation started, I thought I was in heaven – one full month without commitments, apart from a 9-day trip to UK? You’re kidding me, right? I felt like a schoolgirl again.

However, these idyllic days now belong to the past. As any good thing (insert horrible cliché here), they’re history. And I find myself struggling to get back to work, starting one of my favourite months of the year.

So what have I learnt from this one-month sabbatical? I keep reminding myself these three things:

• When you’re busy making plans, life is busy passing by. Stop making plans. Never stop doing things and having fun.
• There’s never enough procrastination. You’ll never bore yourself surfing the shiny ‘nets. It’s in your hands to put an end to your ever-worsening ADHD.
• Don’t leave any “someday/maybe” plans for your vacation. Vacation time should strictly be time off. Your body won’t let you work anyway.

I was planning to finish my portfolio page this month. Liven up my blog. Work on various personal projects. Improve my web design knowledge and practice.

Instead, what have I done? Nothing really. Read about 9 fiction books, walked around most of London, got a slight tan, went to a kickass beach party and visited relatives & family. Also started a tiny vidcast. And that’s it.

Will I try this prolonged vacation again? Most probably, yes. Maybe even more. But I’ll start my future vacation thinking about what I won’t do and not about what I’ll do.

That’s always a more realistic point of view, I think.

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.

Warning! Silly post ahead.

You really think you can get anyway with just being a designer / developer in real life and be done with it?

Think again.

‘Cause you’re utterly wrong.

What today (a vacation day, mind you) had in store for me:

• Placed an online order for my dad and sis new PC because of course, I know better about this stuff.
• Created some fancy photo slideshows for Michael, as I’m the lucky one having a Mac which makes creating all kinds of cool stuff a breeze.
• Responded to my little cousin’s questions on why I can’t help him install cracked games on his brand-new PSP. Try explaining firmware downgrade to a kid and then come back here and tell me “pff”.
• Was patient while family was bugging me again to call Tellas support and ask for a technician to come and check our faulty line. Did not make it today, will probably call again tomorrow.
• Ordered online a slew of tickets for my trip to Paris (ouch, pocket).
• Sent about a gazillion e-mails concerning various pending stuff that must be completed before my vacation.
• Wrote a stupid post on having too much on your head on any given day.

All that in just a few hours. And my job title is (supposedly) Web Designer. What?

P.S. Some uncle will probably call me and ask my opinion on his new fancy ironing board sometime soon, I can feel it.

Today marks the first day of the smoking ban in Greece, at least as long as public enclosed places are concerned.

I won’t go too much into that. I’m definitely pro-ban. I just want to say this:

It’s sad (not to mention pathetic) to see all grown-up people acting like my 9-month old niece when I take one of her toys from her. I’ve seen drug addicts with better attitudes than some of the smokers out there (and I mean it).

If you’re in a closed place and you smoke between non smokers, you suck. If you moan and whine about the smoking ban in everyone around, you suck and you don’t have anything exciting to do with your life. If you decide to follow the ban but light a cigarette in an enclosed place as soon as you see another one do this, you suck and you have absolutely no personality.

Will this ban have any kind of luck in Greece? Probably not, because we’re one of the most dont-fucking-care-about-others nations in the whole wide world.

But some people have got to learn to play by some rules, someday.