Vickiepedia

If I first claim to be a highly logical, scientific and secular person and then jokingly tell you that my hips and thighs are Sagittarian features, the correct response that would earn the highest approval rating from me would be to (jokingly) point out how hypocritical, illogical, unscientific and superstitious of me to say that — which I’m not really, mind. Also, my hips and thighs are fine.

My friend? He said: “oooh no wonder”.

Vickie disapproves (-18) I should stop playing Dragon Age: Origins.

Was I the girl who commented that make-up was a waste of money, and that she would never wear them whatsoever; and now one of the first things she does in the morning is to apply it on her face?

Was I the girl who swore that she’d never swear because foul language was too cheap for her, and now she says the word “fuck” almost on a daily basis?

Was I the girl who decided that Putonghua was a silly language, and there was no point in learning it; and now she sticks to the telly whenever the language programme is on?

Was I the girl who said that people getting reviews for their diary was a stupid act; and now she’s asked for and received a few reviews, and even opened up her own review site?

Was I the girl who told people that she didn’t understand lesbians, then turned a lesbian herself; and now she’s desperately fallen for a guy classmate?

Oh shit, I’m one seriously fucked-up person.

I left my pillow in the sun for a bit yesterday, and now it doesn’t smell too pleasant. Like unbuttered-popped popcorn. I always have this obsessive-compulsive mania about ‘clean’ pillows. I get mad when people touch it, especially where my face lies on. So the whole night I was sleeping on this huge unclean-unbuttered-popped popcorn. And I had no one to moan at but myself.

Before I forget, I’ve updated the last bit of my dream that I forgot 2 days ago. Suddenly remembered, because of the dream last night. Yep, I had another dream last night, but this time not as lucid as the others. I’ll still type anyway.

I was a telly (not news, more like a gossip show) reporter. One cloudy afternoon, I went to a wet market with a male coworker, to trick a stall owner into doing what he often did. The stall owner was a butcher who sold thinly sliced raw beef, but he always gave people less than what they paid for. We went and talked to him but he didn’t realise that we were reporters (weird! We were wearing reporter clothes), so he gave us less beef. I couldn’t wait to try my raw meat (it’s meant to be eaten that way). Yummy! (I’ve tried raw beef in my real life, and it’s really delicious) And then the male reporter revealed his identity, and said that he taped everything he did. The stall owner didn’t believe it, but when we showed him our tape (how?), he gave us all the beef we paid for.

A lot happened after that, but I just couldn’t remember anything. So my own interpretation is that I was really hungry, and I wanted food. Haha, yes. I’m on a diet, so I’m obviously suffering from malnutrition and my body is telling me through my dreams. Hahaha, not really. I ate enough, just not as much as usual.

More serious now.

I’ve been reading thousands of people’s diaries, and almost certainly one thing in common: they blame their parents. I don’t know. Maybe I’m one of the lucky ones on earth. I really don’t know. I did blame my parents at one point of my life. I blamed them for being too strict to my brother and I. It was them who made us what we were: quiet, reserved, shy, afraid of everything. But when I look at all the others, I appreciate my parents for what they have done. I’m not quoting examples. I just want to be thankful.

Another thing I don’t understand is that people take their diaries to be reviewed. Well, I guess we do want people to read, otherwise we wouldn’t have put a diary online. But, do we really care how people see us? The only thing I really like about it is that you discover layout thieves. I hate people who steal.

Hoho, but let’s see when I take my diary to reviewers. I said that I hated make-up when I was younger (according to my brother), and now I’m obsessed with it. I didn’t like people who swear, now I swear like hell. I thought I wouldn’t drink, now I see the fun in drinking (not too heavy). Other stuff I said, “I don’t believe in God.”, “I hate smokers.”, “I’m a lesbian.”. Mock me later if you see me do the opposite. WHEN you see me do the opposite.