I remember when they brought me my first computer, yes, they brought. He was a technician with a white Duchy, because then only the monitor already occupied the trunk of a small car, not to mention the actual computer, a box marked PackardBell, placed it on the desk and there was the beginning of the end.
The study, that thing that was supposed to plague the life of any student, had a reason to be shelved. "Mom," I said, "I can not study, I do not know where to put the books, the space is too little" lame excuse valid. The result he constantly saw china on the books in the kitchen under the watchful eyes of my mother and grandmother while they were using the stove.
But he was there, I had permission to turn an hour a day, after homework and never before bedtime, "..I read that watching the screen before falling asleep does not rest well" told me a superdocumentata mom, and I could do was believe.
In the evening, before falling asleep I saw him, imposing, dominating the room and having seen too many times Toy 'Story I imagined, at night, while dispensing pearls and advice to my games, which until then had always been out of touch.
Yes, the computer is this.
An instrument of knowledge and relationship, and in the future also it is found at the base of the work, at least, of what I wanted to do myself.
So I started to appassionarmici, I tried to make that hour that we spent together was productive, I was looking through your computer documentation and on the same computer today I am here, to publish my first article on my first website.
Who would have thought, type www.giuliabordini.com
in the white space where once wrote just big names, and instead now I can say it.
I'm here too