K and I have been in Rome for about 48 hours now, and we can (just) get by in restaurants, shops and so on: Italian is pretty easy for an English speaker with a decent ear for accent and a good Latinate vocabulary. The high point so far was successfully ordering a 1/2 litre carafe of red wine today at lunch. I’m a bit apprehensive about asking for the bill at the end of the meal – it seems to me that asking for the “conto” could go horribly, horribly wrong.
Oh, and the Italians really know how to eat. I could definitely live here, which is more than I can say (despite my love for their compassiate and intelligent socialism-lite), for Sweden (sorry, Peter).
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It was during the dark days of Apple – too many models out there, clones coming in and diluting people perception of Mac-ness. I was already experienced in pulling apart machines but the course was very enjoyable: the best bit was when they showed an old video (from around 1986, I’d estimate) showing the dangers of static discharge. Lots of nylon tracksuits and bad hair – and a good interview with Steve Wozniak talking about how much more delicate the modern chips were than the ones used in the Apple I.
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Certainly it’s not the physical act of sitting down alone and writing (I’ve written a thesis and several hundred advertisements, so I’m no stranger to the process). It’s more the (idea of) the freedom which the writer’s life offers: the ability to do it anywhere, anytime; to have good reason to attend to and enjoy the minutiae of life; to be able to loaf around and call it research. Currently reading Margaret Atwood’s Negotiating with the Dead; not sure if it’ll give me any more insight, but the journey’s worthwhile.
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