The Guardian

Very first day at The Guardian. Some kind of induction day.

A tall guy who seems that will be my supervisor spends too long explaining how the articles are classified, tagged and formatted, ready for uploading. I am also supposed to read them and pick up mistakes that may have slipped through the several layers of sub-editing. These are articles that have already been sent to the printers; any correction will only come up on the online version.

London home

London room

I live in a shared house in London. I don’t know any one who doesn’t. Most of the people I know have moved in houses already inhabited with strangers. Then we make friends, or not. It seems easier to just find a room in the kind of house you like than getting together with friends, decide to look for the same kind of accommodation and then once found, distribute the very different bedrooms among the, in principle, similar people.


Got a friend with her son at home today. Children are great, if and when you can afford them. I don’t think humanity can afford to have children any more.


I had to get on the tube today because there was such a big jam. It may have been half a year since I last used it. For non frequent users, the first thing that strikes is the obscene amount of advertising present everywhere, at least once you pass the barrier gates.


Many and very varied things have happened since I came to this Country 10 years ago. According to different witches and other friends, my personality has radically changed various times. Just in the first year I had my first job, I was sacked because I was useless, and before two weeks, I got a new one where my abilities were venerated – doing the same thing.


This came from Germany:


Ben II

Dear Ben goes and says today that my final result on the current assignment will depend on the level of the other people’s articles. To make it even better, I tell the story to the angels of my guard and they answer that it is not that horrible.


When I first arrived in London, Angel was the first area where I lived – or, as I have heard from some old londoners, and read in “Oliver Twist”, by Dickens, “The Angel”. I actually stayed there for quite long, one and a half years, which is my current record in one address. I remember this big green that was surrounded by a high wall. Every time I returned from Chapel Market, I would see this graffiti on the wall:


Some from one of the hacklabs from Madrid has come to London and I saw him today, because I have not forgotten how hard the first days in London were, when I didn’t know where to start, I didn’t know anyone, and I was desperate to talk to some one, happy to talk even in English.

The co-op where I live

Today I did some of the work I am supposed to do for my housing co-op. A housing co-op is a legal association that owns and/or manages houses or flats in order to provide its members with decent housing. So the members are tenants of the Association, and the Association owns the houses, so in effect the members are owners or at least manage their own housing.