We might say I am now a veteran of lab work and practicals, or so I like to think after a whole term of lab-coats and gloves.

The lab is made of two rooms in the School of Biological Sciences, top floor. Microscopes have their own room.
The first thing to do when you have a practical is arrive on time (duh!) and patiently wait until they open the door get changed in one of two rooms and wear the famous lab-coat and the protective spectacles (the ones you got when you arrived). More »

I suppose I should have written this a long time ago…
Anyway lectures were not a all what I expected them to be. More »

And so my new life in my new home has begun (cheesy music from an American TV show anyone?).
Now, since we the people in Britain are meticulous, the whole first week is not about desperatly trying to get your University ID (quote any of my friends in Italy), but to make you feel welcome, at ease, beloved, cared for (maybe that’s a little bit too much, after all you don’t even get toilet paper…). More »

She (Amanda) loved sports, he (Antonio) loved sitting down.
She ran and jogged in Villa Borghese, he hobbled and gasped to get bus 360.
She drank Gatorade and ate energy bars, he ate paninis and drank Coke.
(«Chiasmus!», cried the writer, interrupting his own story)
She was beautiful, but maybe she didn’t know, he never cared about his looks.
(«Enough antithesis for now», he said, interrupting the narration again)
(«No more interruptions, ohshit I did it again!»)
Anyway, you get it, they had nothing in common.
Good, let’s continue. More »

Here we go, in the end I did what all high school (liceo) students do: I chose a degree so crazy I can’t go to the university right behind my house.
In fact, it’s so incredibly crazy that I can’t even stay in Italy, or in the “Continent”: I’m moving to England (note for geography geeks: yes, I mean that specific part of the United Kingdom).
But let’s start from the very beginning: to whom did I give puppy eyes to get where I’m about to get? More »

«a fine giugno maturità e aperitivo a Monti.»
I Cani – Hipsteria

Well, it’s done. I went through that modern rite of passage (ah!, “modern”) they call Maturità (Italian High School finals).
I survived the written examination in a corridor, midday sun shining on your face, and the 5-minutes-per-subject oral examination.
But, most importantly, I survived all the cliché they threw at me (us) during this senior year. More »

Jack Giraffe ties his tie and hat, the trench-coat on his left arm with the umbrella, the .38 calibre tea and the semi-automatic lime pistol in his holster.
As usual everything is in black and white, Jack smokes, the secretary smokes, the telephone smokes. More »


It rains
you are not Ermione
no bayberries
I, you, the rain
one drop on the cheek
kiss. More »