I can’t tell you. I can’t talk about it. I never can, lest I risk my professional working relationships and career.
It was the end of March and the central pathway to one of the main hospital entrances was getting dusted with snow. I recall taking an extra moment to capture this image in my head as I had never witnessed snow at the hospital before.
It’s been a while since my last post. Time for an update so I can get on with the rest of the story. I’ve been immersed in my master’s program, so all good, just busy here.
This part is especially hard to write about. I love Torino as I’ve learned this year, where my school is based. I prefer the native term, Torino, to the English ‘Turin’ just because it sounds so much better to the ear. To my ear anyway.
As mentioned, a colleague approached me for the gig. I didn’t know the actual project I’d be working on, but went out of trust in my colleague, and the BBC opportunity, for the young studio in Stuttgart.
I’m not sure what to call this colleague who brought me in. I’ll call him ‘Reinhard’.
My work in Milan ended in early December 2009.
We considered moving back to San Francisco at this time. Joel went to scout out the real estate market. As we feared, nothing was affordable, so we planned the next possible thing in Europe.
I thought I might be able to cover this subject regarding my experience from 2003-2013 but, no. It will have to be broken into parts, starting in 1993. The subject of gender in the tech field is horrible, complicated and fucking endless.
This post will be from my start of work after school, in 1992 and proceed to the end of my work in London, 2008. Part one of two parts.
It wasn’t a life-threatening thing, of course, but it gnawed at us. We hated giving our taxes to feed the slaughter and destruction in Iraq and Afghanistan. Not to mention the increasing lack of liberties at home, because of, you know, terrorists.