Mi Mancherai

The other day I drove past a little building with a sign in front that read:

"(Linex - scratched out) Lenux Programmer Wanted".

I was thrilled! Why, you might ask? Because whenever someone has asked me how much I know about Linux, my answer has been "Well, I know how to spell it". This sign proved me wrong. No, I haven't been misspelling Linux after all this time - it proved that I actually know more than I give myself credit for because I also know that it is an open source operating system, not a programming language. OK, and my file server at home is running Red Hat but that's mostly the result of my husband's anti-"MicroSlop" campaign.

Somehow this funny sign led me to thinking about other written words that are misinterpretted and I ended up thinking about my screen name: Donna Vera. It isn't a name. My real name isn't Donna, and Donna isn't the name of my internet alter ego (if I had one, it would be something more like Zelda or Tatiana). So, here is the history...

Prior to my current unemployed state, someone asked me "When was the last you time relaxed?" Admittedly, they were making a point and probably didn't really expect an answer, but I gave one nonetheless: in mid-August, 2004, I relaxed for two consecutive nights. Why? Because I was with a perfect man (and I say this with all due respect to my husband, who is the perfect husband and whose countless deliveries of breakfast in bed have not been forgotten). Sorry ladies, this is purely platonic, not a romantic story about forbidden passion - after all, my family reads this!

I was on a business trip in Italy visiting one of our plants. The IT manager I met with greeted me with the typical kiss on both cheeks (very culturally appropriate, anything less would've been a slight), gave me a tour of the plant, he talked about his technology needs (apologizing unnecessarily for his english) and listened to me talk about upcoming corporate projects. On most of my international trips, I had dinner with the local IT staff and this trip was no different. When he asked if I'd rather have dinner by the sea or in a garden, I said "Yes!" So we did just that.

That evening, we drove into Naples and had dinner at a beautiful restaurant overlooking the gulf. I couldn't read the menu and his english wasn't good enough to translate it so he ordered for me. After a few bites of my meal, I tried to ask him what I was eating. He said, "Don't worry... I'll tell you tomorrow". It wasn't bad, it turned out to be monkfish, squid and baby octopus. A far cry from the fresh seafood selections in southeastern Wisconsin! Over a wonderful glass of wine, I learned to say, "Sono molto felice!"

The next evening we drove into the mountains in Sorrento. Sorrento has probably become my favorite place on earth. We walked around, he and the plant manager waited patiently while I did some shopping, and we had dinner in another beautiful restaurant. The plant manager ordered a bottle of wine and for the first time in my life I saw someone sample the wine when the waiter poured it and send it back for a bottle of something else. We settled on a bottle of Lacrimarosa and I learned to say, "È stata una bellissima serata!"

So how does this all define the perfect platonic man? Simply put, he's polite, has a PhD in computer science and is intelligent enough to get the job done but doesn't speak enough English to give me any shit, doesn't complaint while I shop and can pick a great restaurant and a great bottle of wine without expecting sex. For all these reasons, to him I say "Mi macherai." (I will miss you).

Back to my point. 20% of our business was in Italy and because I enjoyed the area so much, I took an Italian class upon my return. "Donna vera" is Italian for true woman.

Ciao!