Vickiepedia

As a soon-to-be wannabe health professional, I’d like to remind you that even the most elegant of people — yes, even women — need to do this thing with euphemisms or dysphemisms such as dropping the kids off at the pool, checking yesterday’s dinner, testing the plumbing, laying cables, baking brownies, etc. (Thank you, Google and Wikipedia.) But to us soon-to-be wannabe health professionals, we refer to it exclusively as defaecation. You may or may not know that defaecation can be a dangerous event as your blood pressure drops, which can result in hypotension and explains why some people literally die on the toilet. But really, it’s only natural.

… Which also completely explains why I’m now sitting here my face all screwed up because a neighbour may or may not be standing somewhat near my toilet window and if I can hear what they’re doing outside they can hear what’s happening inside, yeah?

Shittttt. (Oh Vickie, a pun. I’m so proud of you.)

Note to Self:

Remember to remove all batteries from all toys after using them, especially the ultra quiet ones, even when you’re sure you already switched them off. Stop telling people you’re jealous of the air being vibrated all night. That’s just freaky. Also make sure you always have spare batteries. Don’t bang your head against the wall when you don’t. That doesn’t help.

P.S. You forgot to introduce Trusties #4, 5 and 6 to people, so I shall do it for you:

… Oh my goodness. You brought the camcorder USB cord over here instead of the one for your digital camera. You bloody idiot!

And here I am! The wonderful, cloudless country in the other Hemisphere, where there’s more UV than Ozone, where July is cold and January hot, where you could almost experience four seasons in one day, where water in the toilet bowl twirls counterclockwise (pending confirmation), where Vickie would be staying for the next 4 or 4.5 years. Bingo! Australia!

The flight was mostly pleasant (but that belongs to another entry when I have proper internet connection after I find a proper place to rent *sigh*); homesickness hasn’t got me much since the parents have really helpful friends over here; AMD Diablos… that poor thing took some minor injuries (pictures pending) even with all that “handle with care” and “fragile” stickers. Otherwise, Vickie is cool.

Although speaking of homesickness, Trusty #1 and Trusty #3 must be suffering from it — I couldn’t turn them on no matter what I do! Argh! Must resist getting a new vibrator!

Oh Em Eff Gee! No, no, I’m indeed not dead. In fact, the lazy arse actually managed to find a decent temporary job while waiting for her next university life to commence (hopefully) in February. You see, there’s so much to write about everything, I simply couldn’t decide on one topic to babble on about. I rolled a dice; now I shall present whoever still visits with yet another embarrassing story in everybody’s favourite category (woohoo?).

As everybody already knows, I do it solo all night every night. Literally. Well, sort of. Aaanyway, since I’m not really as open and selfish as people thought I am, I always keep everything down — especially considering that I still live with my parents, and the brother’s room is just next to mine.

So then there was this weekend that Bro and I decided to play an old and out(?) game called Beat Mania on the PlayStation together. We played through every single song once, until this song called “Do It All Night” popped up. We’ve played the song so many times over the years.

“It’s so your song,” Bro commented suddenly while the song was loading. “You do it all night.”

Speechless, I sat there, not sure whether to laugh or blush or argue or deny. “Caught ya!” I could almost hear my brother say. It’s not that people don’t already know what I do all the time, but to be “confronted” like that after so many nights… Gosh, perhaps he’s been waiting for this chance to tell me that he knew when I’d been doing it all along.

I headed back to my room after supper and took trusty vibrator #2 out. Now that I think about it, Trusty #2 is actually rather loud even when it wasn’t on full power. It must be her that Bro knew. It had to be.

I looked at the vibrator one last time: it’s rather worn out being used so frequently for almost 4 years. See, that little piece was kind of falling out, the other side wouldn’t start sometimes and I almost had to kick it to get it working, and the batteries always choose the best time to die…

I giggled at the thought despite myself; considered chucking the vibrator in the bin for a moment but decided against it. Perhaps. Perhaps she’d be useful again one day.

“It’s been fun, Trusty #2, really,” I told her as I gently placed her back to where she always rested. “Rest in peace, darling. I’ll miss you.”

But oh, this can’t possibly be the end of Vickie’s fun nightlife. What is it you say you see Vickie has in her hands? That’s right! Trusty vibrator #3: bigger, better and much quieter.

Heh heh.

This is the, what, billionth time I’ve tried to type an entry. So much has happened since the last time I updated, but nothing much has happened either. Nevertheless, my life has been great. No, that was a lie. Anyway, here’s an unordered list, in chronological order, of the biggish events that happened in my disordered life recently.

• contracted UTI (Urinary Tract Infection) and recovered quickly
• attempted to write a blog entry about it but failed
• came out to the parents for a second time
• attempted to write a blog entry about it but failed
• unclogged a toilet by myself for the first time (oh, the satisfaction)
• attempted to write a blog entry about it but failed
• managed to install Apache, PHP and MySQL on my computer
• attempted to write a blog entry (to brag) about it but failed

If you haven’t already guessed, this was one of the things I put in my mental list of New Year resolutions: Write a blog entry and hit “Publish” for once, damn it!