I was waiting for it, but when you actually read it, sounds all different…

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Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che studiare fisica per un numero indeterminato di ore (range nella cinquantina) e perdere la cognizione del tempo.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che fare i compiti on-line ed ottenere il risultato corretto al primo colpo un buon 90% delle volte.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che aiutare un paio di compagni di classe e notare che non solo hai capito l’argomento in questione ma riesci a rispondere alle loro domande in un modo chiaro e conciso.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che arrivare il giorno dell’esame ed essere carico come un grillo pronto per smontare qualsiasi problema in quattro ed arrivare alla soluzione in meno di un paio di minuti.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che consegnare il test e vedere il professore che marca una, due, tre… otto risposte cannate su venti.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che essere in America e ricordarsi che la sufficienza e’ al 70% e non al 60% come in Italia.

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che scambiare un paio di commenti con il professore riguardo al test e appena lui volta le spalle gli alzi il dito medio e lo mandi affanculo: Fuck off dude, you and your freaking electric fields!

Non c’e’ nulla di piu’ soddisfacente che prendere la prima D in un test di fisica.

Judy always tells me “Oh Francesco you are so Italian. In your country people are all black and white, there in no grey area in the middle.” I’ve always kind of disagreed with her, I mean this is obviously an American stereotype of Italian, but since I got here I haven’t been able to prove her wrong considering that well, I’m actually one of those who are “black and white” indeed.

A few weeks ago I found myself discussing with Charlie how the younger generation relies on technology and he was stating that if a black out would occur we would all be disoriented without knowing how to go through daily life with the absence of out digital helpers.

Well, you all know how I am, in most cases I take critics personally and guess what? I took it personally and I decided to prove him wrong and to prove myself right. I went to get my computer, took the battery out of it, unplugged the charger from the power strip and brought both parts to Judy to insure I wouldn’t be able to use my laptop even if went through a crisis.

Seven days without a computer is not that bad, actually the first couple days I felt like I was released from prison. I found myself waking up in the morning and going to pee without checking my e-mails first. I found myself using a paper-made map to find a bar in Pacific Beach. I was having more time to do different things that I wouldn’t have done normally. I actually read half book, which is not something to underestimate. I’ve probably read three books in my entire life which is not something I’m proud of but unfortunately is the way it is, so…

Not having a computer brought also disorder in my life. After three days I went to check my incoming e-mail box to make sure nothing bad happened (you never know), and what did I see? An e-mail from my father asking if I was in jail or I was kicked out of my home again or God knows what. He seemed to be very worried so I called him. I explained everything was alright. Some friends got upset at me saying that just a selfish person like me would have isolated himself from the rest of the world for a whole week just to prove himself to be strong enough. I procrastinated too long on an online physics extra credit assignment.

Overall this experience brought both, good and bad.

I don’t know how this started exactly but approximately one week, right after the no-computer week, I decided to fix Judy’s computer for 50 bucks. Right the day after that  had a laptop and a desktop to fix in my room coming from his son in law. Just this 3 PCs sucked the life out of me for an entire weekend.

Reinstalling Windows XP on a computer with a SATA hard drive and no floppy disk makes you hate Microzoz so effing badly!

WTF?

And yes, I tried all freaking possible tricks you can find online but I guess the fate didn’t want me to have an easy time. I had to download three different versions of Windows XP before finding something that could have actually run properly.

*** CAUTION! Read the following if and only if you define yourself to be a nerd ***

Please observe that the power cord of the floppy disk is coming from a computer (let’s call it A) and the actual IDE connector comes from the actual computer (let’s call it B) where I was trying to reinstall Windows XP on. I was able to change the IDE cable with a floppy connector on computer B but I didn’t really feel like exchanging the power supply so I used the power supply of the computer A. It’s the first time I see a floppy installed on a computer but powered by another.

***

After spending zero time in front of a computer I ended up working on it for more than 10 hours straight. And Judy was right another time. All or nothing, black or white, no grey area in the middle.

And this is what I’m about to distribute all over San Diego to get some extra spending money so I’m no longer a prisoner in my room.

Proprio oggi mi sono ricordato di non aver postato i risultati del mio terzo semestre (e se va tutto bene penultimo) al City College. Se non fosse’ stato per quella macchiolina nera, sarei stato piu’ soddisfatto, ma hey, chi si accontenta gode, no?

Mi faro’ sentire presto per aggiornamenti

Here I am, back in the U.S.A., again, for the third time. Leaving Italy this time was definitely the hardest one. I had such an intense time over there with all of you guys, or I should better say, almost all of you (Luigi Gianluigi, it was dramatic not being able to see you ns31) that I felt heavily sad when I got in line for the check in of the airport.

A great night with my great old friends at the Glitch right before Christmas made me feel a little more at home.

Dj sets at Gonzo’s winery were special. Old and new songs getting mixed by the “Magic Trio”. Three idiots acting like professional photographer flashing other people’s faces while trying to take decent pictures to upload on Facebook the very same night (proud to mention that I was one of those three idiots). And lots of alcohol of course, how could that be missing at Gonzo’s winery?

A lovely trip to Switzerland that made everything much warmer. First was the turn of Lugano, a great city that faces a beautiful lake, and the sweet company of Estelle,

and afterwards was the turn of Zurich and a great afternoon spent with a few girls I meet in California this autumn and my ex-roommate Sarah.

Then it was time to go and see my tiny grandma (too shy to look into the camera once). Even though I had chance to stay with her only one day, because many things were waiting for me at home, I was glad to see her and to spend some time with her.

And the Christmas lunch with my cousins, poker nights with old friends, San Silvestre at Milan, great cocktails at the Messicano, Estelle’s visit to Reggio Emilia, a special dinner with both of my siblings and their respective wife/husband, some good talking with my friend Elly, a dozen of friends of friends bringing their laptops to my house and asking me to fix them as soon as possible, and my parents’ silly arguments, that are still as loud as I remembered from two years ago, if not even more.

Well, a few words to say a lot is what I tried to write tonight.

One tear, two tears, three tears, I’m sure by the time you finished the last paragraph you started crying like little girls.Yes, it is sad indeed, but I promise I’ll be back soon little wusses!

No wondering why people is being asking if this was really the end of Full Immersion nel Megalomanismo or not. Well, I’m not really gonna blame anyone here, I totally agree with you guys: I’ve been a horrible blogger lately. I can’t even think that I haven’t been writing for almost two months. Hopefully a few of you are still waiting for some update. And by the way, no, this blog is not closed, and yes, I will keep updating it once I come back to California, not as often as I used to, but I will do so, promise!

The title of this post is somehow dedicated to one of my American friend or I should better say my only real american friend Peter who refers to Europe as a country itself and not an actual continent. “Francesco, this is time to get a hair cut. I can actually see an European mullet (that actual awkward extension of hair on the back head also known as cresta alla Reggio Calabrese) growing on the back of you head: cut it off!” or “No Francesco, let’s not enter in Abercrombie & Fitch, it’s a store for Europeans only.” Well, Europland just sounded more interesting: in case you don’t think so well, just screw you .

Being back brought up a lot of thinking. I now see everything with a foreign eye. It’s weird indeed. The night I got home, after sitting at the table with my parents ready to have dinner, I realized how everything seemed to be coming out from one of those movies where Italian Americans are playing main roles, for instance Il Padrino, Sleepers, or Jersey Shores. Well, maybe Jersey Shores it’s not quiet the case.

My father screaming vaffanculo out loud to every car driver who would have cut his way in the middle of a round intersection on our way back home, or I should better say screaming vaffanculo out loud to every car driver.

Narrow streets everywhere, even in centro (downtown) of Bologna. Every time that a car in the other lane of the street was coming toward us, I was afraid that my father and I would have got into a car accident.

Buildings not higher than 300 feet anywhere.

But I noticed the real good stuff just when I got home. The yellowish and not too bright light in the kitchen, a dozen of Tortelli on a plate waiting for me. The italian espresso made with the old coffee machine of the house, and with it, the thoughtlessness of my mum that leaves it there on the stove till the coffee starts burnings and boiling out the top of the coffee machine. It’s still delicious though. The flushing device of the toilette was almost ridiculous: the way the water flows down the hole is so odd. Even the italian bide’ was another one of those re-discovery that made my day a little better. Everything looked so Italian and so somehow foreign that I felt more excited than Elisabeth Gilbert in her last book Eat, Pray, Love.

Euro coins are brutally deforming my card keeper; normally in my card keeper I save only bills. I didn’t remember they give so much coin change in Italy. If you don’t pay attention at the end of the day you’ll find yourself keeping the rhythm of you steps by shaking tons of euro coins in your right pocket that is suddenly got into an ideal piggy-bank.

The only part I didn’t really appreciate was the low temperature – wow. Moving from San Diego to Reggio nell’Emilia is a step you don’t wanna take before going through a special survival training. Got fever right the day after I arrived that also went away the very same night but still it wasn’t such a wonderful surprise.

In two words, it was a wonderful and, in a good way, shocking reenter.

What could I add? Oh well, Happy Christmas guys! I’m happy to be back home!