Been through here and here and finally here, plus a photoblog on the side. And take a look at this, I'm officially on my second year today blogging for personal use (I used to post to an earlier group blog which, sadly is in purgatory right now).

It is my zeitgeber and my reason for working. Happy anniversary to us, TWP.

...

Giving up so soon? Clue for Item #5 on my Lilith Fair-ish list as with others on my list: it's by Everything But The Girl, from their Language of Life CD. No googling, please.

NB. I'm not giving links of my previous blogs as these are highly controversial. As an ongoing project, however, I'll be moving snippets of these entries to TWP and will let you know.

NBB. This is my reason for my going to work everyday. Free internet, got it?

Grabbed this from cnbgirl who grabbed it from Videoke Queen and, taking the existence of one of these song's lyrics on the web as a sign that I should proceed, sure. Yesterday's vacation leave was too uneventful to blog anyway.

Step 1: Get your playlist together, put it on random, and play!
Step 2: Pick your favorite lines from the first 25 songs that play!
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song the lines come from!
Step 4: Cross out the songs when someone guesses correctly!

I listen to everything by the bulk so it should be easy. And the title should be enough clue.

1. We skipped the light fandango/turned cartwheels 'cross the floor/I was feeling kinda seasick/but the crowd called out for more. Annie Lennox, "A Whiter Shade of Pale"

2. Never knew it could be so wrong/Why'd it take me so long just to find/The friend that was there all along. Boyzone, "Picture of You"

3. When the bridge is between us/We'll have nothing to fear/We will run through the sunlight/And you'll meet me halfway. Kevyn Lettau, "Bridges"

4. The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,/Turned around backwards so the windshield shows/Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse/Still, it’s so much clearer/I forgot my shirt at the water’s edge/The moon is low tonight. REM, "Nightswimming"

5. Of course I feel betrayed, but that's the way it goes, everyone knows./Trying to make you love me again, crying at your door just to hold you once more.

6. You don't even have to try, it comes easy for you/The way you move is so appealing/it could make me cry. Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians, "Good Times"

7. For your kindness I'm in debt to you/For your selflessness, my admiration/For everything you've done, you know I'm bound, I'm bound to thank you for it. Natalie Merchant, "Kind and Generous"

8. End of the day remember the ways/We were so close to the edge/Wonder how we've made it through and then/End of the day remember the way/Step so close to the edge/Remember it was me and you. Lighthouse Family, "High"

9. This is not some bible like "On the Road"/It's just a song about coming home. Everything But The Girl, "One Place"

10. I drank too much last night, got bills to pay, my head just feels in pain/I missed the bus and there'll be hell today, I'm late for work again. Dido, "Thank You"

11. I sat on a mountainside with peace of mind/I lay by the ocean making love to her with visions clear/Walked for days with no one near/And I return as chained and bound to you. Sophie B Hawkins, "Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover"

12. Let's go down to the water's edge/And we can cast away those doubts/Some things are better left unsaid/But they still turn me inside out. Annie Lennox, "Why"

13. You tell me I can go this far, but no more/Try to show me heaven and then slam the door/You offer shelter at a price much too dear/And your kind of love's the kind that soon disappears. Everything But The Girl, "Each and Everyone"

14. Not for the first time I looked back on all those years/Not for the last time names will ring in my ears/When there was just a gang of us storming the town by train and bus. Everything But The Girl, "Old Friends"

15. These days you might feel a shaft of light make it’s way across your face./And when you do you’ll know how it was meant to be./See the signs and know their meaning./It’s true, you’ll know how it was meant to be./Hear the signs and know they’re speaking to you. 10,000 Maniacs, "These Are Days"


16. I have a dream of an inky blue sea./You could give up your job and go there with me./I know we'd miss the football and the dancing--there's always something. Everything But The Girl, "Talk To Me Like The Sea"

17. I know your window and I know it's late/I know your stairs and your doorway/I walk down your street and past your gate/I stand by the light at the four-way. Everything But The Girl, "Downtown Train"

18. Lança menina, lança todo esse perfume/Desbaratina, não dá pra ficar imune/Ao teu amor que tem cheiro de coisa maluca. Rita Lee, "Lança Perfume"

19. Hey Jack, now for the tricky part,/when you were the brightest star who were the shadows? 10,000 Maniacs, "Hey Jack Kerouac"

20. If lust and hate is the candy/If blood and love taste so sweet/Then we give 'em what they want. 10,000 Maniacs, "Candy Everybody Wants"

21. Do I wanna hear that you forgive me?/Do I wanna hear you're no good without me?/Am I big enough to hear that you never even even think about me?/Why should you ever think about me? Everything But The Girl, "The Heart Remains A Child"

22. We crossed the line/Who pushed who over?/It doesn´t matter to you/It matters to me. U2, "So Cruel"

23. To touch is to heal/To hurt is to steal/If you want to kiss the sky/Better learn how to kneel/On your knees, boy! U2, "Mysterious Ways"

24. Tell her she can kiss my ass/And laugh and say that you were only kidding/That way she'll know that it's really me. REM, "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite"

25. Tin roof! Rusted. The B-52's, "Love Shack"

I had myself weighed at the clinic yesterday and saw that I gained 8 kilos. I am now 69 f...king kilos in a span of six months. My BMI is fine, but loosening the belt one notch more, and denying the existence of a quarterlife bulge is too much to handle.

I stand at 69 inches. My photoblog used to peak at #69 in Photoblog.org's Hot Blogs last year. A little bit contrived, but what does that have to say about me?

Soixante neuf, c'est moi.

(Note: This sideblog published 19 April 2005)

Two things today:

1. No matter how many times you hit Google Search, there is no naked picture of Carlo Maceda* in this blog. Kahit sino pang hubad na Carlo Macedang magtataho, tricycle driver, konduktor, albularyo, lasalista o satanista, WALA!

2. Guys, you know who you are. If there's any rift between the two of you, I'm out of it. I'm innocent (and sweet and virginal) and I have no plans of treating both of you as nonfriends.

I'm just an ordinary guy with an ordinary blog with a new template. *eyes wink like Bambi*

Gelukkig weekeind, iedereen!

*For a dissection on how Carlo Maceda philes were able to land in this quite simple, smalltown humble blog, go here.

*Pokes self with coffee spoon.
*Pinches cheek.
*Friend who drove car last Monday pinches me cheek.
*Bitchslaps friend who drove car last Monday.

Q.E.D.

I'm still on earth, prim as a donkey. My manager, who usually treats me like a cabinet, now passes by my table for some chat.

After that Sliding Doors episode, I'm back. Unless I am in The Sixth Sense.

And I thought the preceding post could have been my last.

We were cruising the SLEX last night and on the way to the Magallanes interchange when my friend realized that his plate number ends in 1, meaning he is banned from driving major highways that day. Before going out of the office we agreed that he will drop me off the Ayala MRT station as I make my way to the first night of the UP Fair. So we ignored EDSA, drove ahead and made a right turn at Don Bosco, praying all the while that MAPSA's eyes won't be on us.

It was a just-in-time situation and it did not end there. I was thinking of joining the diaspora of Makati employees via the long Ayala terminal escalator but chose the multi-level SM route instead, as it's breezier to walk to than the polluted air of the terminal (talk about how kaartehan can sometimes save you).

By the time I was inside the station the warning buzzer has gone off but I determined to squeeze myself in--not in my usual defeatist self to let others in because I have the maturity to wait. It was only at Shaw and an SMS that something sank in. The smell of fear.

At the extreme my family could have been composed of a young widow and two fatherless boys. Never mind that the world would have one less hearthrob to swoon to.

Multiply that a thousand times, in varying degrees, and you'll see the essence of noble causes fought for in the most senseless way ever imagined.

Not even the fact that humans are the only species in the planet who can devise creative ways to destroy each other can console me now.

...But even as we speak, they're loading bombs onto a white train. How can we afford to ever sleep so sound again? (Everything But The Girl, The Night I Heard Caruso Sing).

Ängstlich daß Ihr Chef über Ihr blog herausfinden konnte? Gut blog in einer anderen Sprache. Beten Sie einfach, daß er keinen on-line-Übersetzer kennt.

ICH: Ich genieße dieses! Selbst wenn Ihr Chef Ihren Computer sieht, weiß er nicht, daß wir über ihn sprechen!

FREUND: Jedoch im Internet sind die Übersetzungen immer zu formal.

ICH: Gut der Punkt ist wir möchten über sie ohne sie sprechen auskennend in ihm.

FREUND: Gut. Ich verstehen. Spongebob ist dummen sie zu verstehen.

ICH: Sogar sieht Chef J, der wie ein Affe aussieht, der immer "guten Morgen" zu jedem holländischen Mann er sagt, die dummen Blicke. Er weiß nur "guten Morgen" und nichts mehr.

Wie pathetisch, ja?

FREUND: Ja, pathetisch dummkoff.

ICH: Dumm. He he.

...

My Dutch counterpart says my German is "crippled", what you would expect from an online translator. I'll make sure I have a copy of Deutsche Grammatik für Attrappen next time.

This should put any work-related rants in a brand new closet.

Even if your lungs are about to burst enough to change the office interior into crimson-dotted retro wallpaper, never blog at work about a boogerschnotting director, or the security guard from hell.

Therapeutic it may be, but blogging on borrowed internet time is unauthorized use of company resources and what you post will be contested as company property. You'll get dooced.

Even if you so yearn to fess online the threesome you had last night and how Ecstasy dissolved your sensibilities and your neurons. Your mother is still tech savvy, has spread your URL to relatives, and sooner or later will cut your inheritance upon reading your blog.

Even if you stumbled upon a high-profile document detailing her husband's underground connections, never curse the president lest you be harrassed by her personal lawyer or branded a threat to national security. Could get you landing in prison during the weekend and you can't post bail. Feel fortunate enough that you're not in Iran.

Even if, in your usual fits of vanity, you (and others so) want to see yourself in office uniform, in a formal suit, or a picture of your biceps, in your blog and let others gasp and fantasize about you in a police uniform with a pornsize truncheon and a furlined manacle. Let Friendster handle that incriminating evidence.

Blog about the flowers you sent to Momma, and have a macro shot of the flowers posted. Blog about what you ate last night, how the shiraz went well with the rack of lamb with rosemary. Blogging about getting paid for sauciness may get you a book deal, but who would listen to an engineer unless there's some pants going down and some boinking going on?

Be the Martha Stewart of the blogosphere, the position's still vacant.