vickie.life

I always thought I was one of those super-cool, mega-flexible, multi-cultural type of people. The truth is, I’ve been affected by my culture much more than I cared to admit. The truth is, one simple question Western people ask one another daily would stump me. “How are you?” I can’t really speak for the rest…

I stood there, alone in the middle of my bathroom, bladder full. There, right next to the toilet, was a medium-sized cockroach. It wasn’t moving; just there, waiting for me. I kept muttering “I can do this” to myself, kept muttering “you can do this” to my poor bladder sphincter; but couldn’t even move one…

Lecturer: Remember, no sandals or thongs in practical classes. Everything must be covered up. Vickie (only half paying attention, suddenly alert): But… how do you even know if somebody is wearing a thong?! Girl next to Vickie: Erm, thong shoes, maybe? Oh. Ohhhh!

In the country of frequent droughts and no long showers; of crazy magpies that make noises like little kids in distress; of much overpriced non-unmetred broadband internet access; of toilet water that twirls counterclockwise (still pending confirmation); where somebody is supposed to get her Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from a university plus a girlfriend and…

Vickie finally had her first full body check three days ago (since that’s the only way the Aussies would let her set foot on their soil). After getting my hands dirty, squashing my boobs against a cold metal plate and trying to read mini font off a wall one thousand miles away… *ahem* as in…