"What the f***..."

Posted by Alex | | Posted On Monday, 11 October 2010 at 13:31

It's Monday. A rather chilly Monday, in fact. Maybe it's my own fault for wandering round without a jacket on - oh well, live and learn! So, what have I done since the last time I decided to put my uninteresting life down on paper? Well...as per usual, not-a-bloody-lot.

A lot of us Erasmus folk have worked out that despite attending Italian classes (in the majority of cases) or having a good grasp of the lingua, we're actually finding it bloody hard. The classes make sense, I guess, if you spend time listening and not trying to furiously scribble down every other word the prof. says. Since we're in the party of furious scribblers, however, we tend to miss a lot of what is being said, and consequently think "What the f*** is (s)he on about?"

In terms of how the classes are actually going, Storia dell'Arte still sits at the bottom of the pile, and we Erasmus look at each other blank when it comes to describing a church in the Lombard or Gothic style; or anything else we may have covered (yes, I missed a lecture due to a lack-of-sleep, after a rather good night, but that's for later in the blog). Literature is standard so far. We analyse poems, and I get lost because I turn up late and don't have a photocopy and think "I'll do it at home, if I write down the poem title" - still, aside from that, I have put myself up to reading Vita Nuova by Dante -- to be started this afternoon when I venture back into town -- and Machiavelli's The Prince. How delightful! I've always wanted to read Machiavelli...but not in the native language. Linguistics - well, that's standard. Here's how language works. Hoop-de-woo!

A lot of this, however, has got me thinking "What the hell are you going to do after University?" -- a lot of the time I default to I'll do a PGCE and teach Spanish, and then the sinking feeling that my Spanish is una mierda comes to mind. So, I rouse myself by saying I'll become a journalist! and then realise I suck at writing coherently, and would have to spend another three (unfunded) years on an undergrad degree. What does that leave me with: Translation, or Lecturing. The former appeals to me...not one jot. While the latter is very appealing, but will involve a PhD or a D.Phil. It will also involve a lot of thought as to what I could do it on -- so far I've had ideas that are mostly to do with linguistics (perhaps The Influence of Italian on the Alguerese brand of Catalan, though with obviously more oomph in it), and I've yet to get a good literary idea. Oh well - two years yet!

Back to the present day!

Last week I attended a nice little shindig at the Casa de Nuno, Sara and Sara. They put on a nice spread - pasta, sauces, meats; the whole shebang. Even sangria was made. We drank, we chatted, a small round (very small) of Camarero was begun. Then the carabinieri arrived to shut us down, the bastards. We swiftly left, and I spent another two or so hours at Piazza del Duomo talking to Luis about languages. When I am drunk, or even tipsy, I am just that boring.

Nothing major happened for the rest of the week. In fact, I think I don't do enough to make my life exciting. Beh, va bene. This week I'm going to Torino! Finally! There will no doubt be a blog about that on Sunday...as I doubt I'll be back much before 9pm. Until then, I think it'll be lots of reading Dante, better sleeping hours, and plenty more croissant breakfasts!


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