I find it amusing that people actually spend time reading their MSN contact lists.

You do it too, don’t you? You love reading people’s personal messages. (You know, the grey sentence that appears after your friend’s name.)

I don’t type personal messages most of the time but, every time I do, my friends like to MSN me immediately to comment on the message. The immediacy is what leads me to believe that people spend hours stalking their MSN contact lists, waiting for someone to input a fresh message.

Like when I put the message “super duper insomniac”, tons of people MSN’ed me to ask me how’s my sleep.

The other day, I put “taking a nap…zzz…DND” because I was going to turn off my phone and go to sleep, and thought I should let my friends know that I would be uncontactable.

The next day, the message was still there because I kinda forgot all about it. And a few people MSN’ed me to ask me how come I was taking such a long nap.

Amazing, ain’t it? Because it proves that people actually READ those personal messages and REMEMBER when the messages were put up.

Sometimes it’s fun when you have loony friends like cute ol’ Swordie.

I think I should put personal messages more often. It’s very entertaining to see what response you would get next.

Categories: Regular Blogs
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I was doing my half-yearly ego surfing (you know, when you google yourself to see what turns up) and was flummoxed by the latest turn-up.

What the hell is this??

It looks like some kind of dictionary using random images stolen from random places on the Internet to illustrate words.

I’m fine with bots stealing my images because I have www.sheylara.com tagged on all my images to establish ownership. But how the hell is my picture an apt illustration for the word “dustily”?

There’s nothing dusty about my picture, is there?!

I’m sure my friends Elyxia and Unker Kell, who are in the picture with me, will be thrilled to know that they’re part of the elite club of “Persons Who Illustrate The Word Dustily”.

I am quite, quite flabbergasted, if you must know.

And then, there’s this one:

Er….

Who stole my picture and put it on some foreign website?

Someone tell me what that gibberish means. I hope it’s nothing naughty.

(I did run it through Babel Fish but, as we all know, the only reason people run sentences through Babel Fish is for laughs.

Categories: Regular Blogs
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Was at the gym today using an elliptical trainer. These machines, like treadmills, have sensor bars on the handles, meant to detect your heart rate and chart your progress.

Well, doesn’t work for me.

I used to work out at California Fitness. I tried all the different machines but none could ever detect my heart rate. I don’t think I was holding the handles wrong. How many ways are there to hold a handle, anyway? I’d always get “Unable to detect heart rate. Switching to manual mode”.

Very, very annoying.

Today, I went to a Singapore Sports Council gym. Very cheap, pay per use is $2.50, so much more affordable than paying $70 a month for upmarket gyms and going only once or twice a week.

Anyway, the elliptical trainer at the SSC gym couldn’t detect my heart rate, either.

Maybe I don’t have a heart or it’s broken, or something. If you put your hand on my chest, you can’t feel my heartbeat. You have to wait till I do 20 minutes of cardio and then you might be able to feel a faint thumping, kinda like a butterfly wings thumping against a padded glass jar.

Wen called me heartless.

But that’s nonsense because I am possibly the most sympathetic, emotional person you could ever know.

I was playing a game on the Wii called Trauma Center, in which you play a surgeon cutting up patients and treating their diseases. In between operations, you follow the storylines of your patients. There was this story that was so touching that I started crying while playing.

It’s a great game.

So, I know my heart is there. But why can’t the stupid machines find it?

Categories: Regular Blogs
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On Saturday, Porky made the most ridiculous suggestion of the year.

He said, “Let’s go to Malacca for dinner now.” It was six plus in the evening. The drive to Malacca normally takes two to three hours.

More absurdly, everyone said okay (except Elyxia and Uncle Kell, who already had plans).

I was actually looking forward to playing the Wii that night, but the thought of driving to Malacca on a whim thrilled me, so I gamely went along with the plan.

We didn’t drive up right away. Of course. What did you expect? Nanny Wen had to take a shower first. Morte and Wang² had to drive home from somewhere to grab their passports. There’s always someone who has unfinished business that can’t wait.

By the time we were all set to start our journey from home, it was past seven.

More waiting when we arrived at the Shell petrol station near the Second Link. Morte and Wang², although they live in the west and are therefore nearer to our meeting point, weren’t there yet.

Next time check:

Arrival at Johor Bahru!

Wen entertained me in the car by mucking aorund with Mushroom (mine) and Penguin (hers).

The last time she left Penguin in our car (remember she’s always forgetting stuff?), we found the two stuffies in a compromising position when we next saw them. She accused Mushroom of raping Penguin (so totally not true). So she made Penguin take revenge by raping Mushroom back.

Crazy.

After she got tired of manipulating the stuffies, she decided it was a great time to study for her coming exams. In the dark.

Crazy.

From JB to Malacca is 200 km. I don’t know how but it took the boys a whole two hours to get there. Maybe because Morte felt the need to take a rest stop when we were only 40 km away from our destination.

Duh?

Next time check:

Arrival at Malacca!

It then took us another 20 minutes to reach Jonker Street (where the food and action is) and another 10 minutes to weave through the crowd and get to the particular spot we wanted to eat at.

IT WAS ALMOST 11 PM BY THE TIME WE STARTED EATING.

You see now how Porky’s suggestion was crazy? And how the rest of us were crazier for taking it up?

We finished eating in half an hour and toyed around with the idea of staying for the night so we could eat bak kut teh in the morning. But it was a no go because the Goonfather and I had stuff to do in the morning.

We left Malacca at 11:30 pm. Took a leisurely rest stop on the halfway point, where we drank stuff to wake ourselves up while Nanny Wen slept in the car.

Last time check:

Home sweet home.

Trip damage:

Petrol - S$45
Highway Toll - S$28
Food (for two) - S$9
Total - S$82

Summary: We spent eighty bucks and eight hours to have a dusty dinner of street hawker fare. (But yummy, of course.)

Totally insane!

Categories: Food Files, Regular Blogs
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Today is show and tell day. It’s going to be lots of show and little tell because…

Iiiiiiiiiiit’s a Wii…..!

Ahem!

*big smile*

Apparently, the Goonfather had planned to buy me a Wii long ago. He was just being evil by buying his PS3 first. But who cares, I got my Wii! Wheee!

Look how cute it is!

He said it’s my birthday present, even though my birthday is almost three months away. Which is not fair, because then I won’t get anything on my birthday, will I?

Well, we’ll see about it when my birthday arrives. Hah.

Wii gloves!

It’s supposed to say “Wii” on the back of the gloves when you put ‘em together, but you have to flip the photo around for it to work. Otherwise it’ll say “iiW”, instead.

[flipped photo]

Pink gloves! OMG OMG OMG. I have white and pink Wii gloves! Wii is soooooo cool I can’t get over it!

See how the gloves says “iiW” when you don’t flip the photo around?

But that smiley thing is cute, anyway.

Here’s me holding the Wii remote (called the Wiimote) and the Nunchuk, pretending to play.

Lastly, irrelevant random picture. The Goonfather bought me some pink candyfloss. I don’t know what for, since I don’t really eat that stuff. He’s weird.

Okay, and now I’m going to hibernate with my Wii until the year 2017. See ya!

Kidding. Probably gonna hibernate until 2008 only, the most.

Categories: Gaming Notebook
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