Of the Mushroom Fritters and the 5-year Delusion.
As dictated by Faranza Syns
My first direct close encounter with a male at CFS IIUM:-
I must've blown a fuse in my mind for not sticking around for a bit and making a male friend. Sigh.
But just for shits and giggles, the next time I see the bewildered boy, I'll wave at him. That should probably make him start thinking that one of us has lost his/her marbles.
I got the upper bunk of the double-decker in Room A-1-8 of Mahallah Ummu Salamah (MUSA). The funny thing about the dorm is that all the beds are lined up against the wall, and the fan is placed smack dab in the middle of the room, nowhere near the beds. And OH MY LORD, I think someone raped the ceiling fans till they're lifeless because apparently speed 5 feels like speed 3.
Have I ever mentioned that Nilai is hot? I got blacker just by standing outside in the sunshine.
But despite these trials and tribulations, I've survived (by chickening out and going home every weekend).
The upper bunk is hot as hell at night. What with my bed being so close to the neon-green EXIT sign that flashed eerily at night. After Night 3, I gave up, and dragged my mattress down on the floor, sleeping with Alifah who had also placed her mattress under the merciful cool wind of the fan on the first night. We put our mattresses together and slept peacefully till the Subuh prayers in the morning.
At Night 4, Kinah and Mira dragged down another mattress, and all four of us slept on the 3 combined mattresses.
Is it any wonder that I love the girls with all my heart now?
Anah, from Kelantan, somehow likes having someone else reply her text messages for her. Or so I'm assuming from her blase attitude towards Dilla's question of "Anah, aku jawabkan, eh?" when her phone flashed with a new message.
And Dilla... omg, Dilla.
She replied the text messages in the Kelantanese dialect at first, getting guidance from Anah.
Next, she went full-throttle Javanese.
Then, it became Mexican (getting much inspiration from the telenovela, Rosalinda).
Laughing our asses off, we then composed a sentence in Hindustani (which translated into "I'm sorry. Do I know you?")
There we all were, cackling like a bunch of loons on the three mattresses on the floor, the sheets untucked at most places, limbs sprawled on top of each other, each of us full from eating Kulat Goreng (our nickname for mushroom fritters) and reading novels.
A few days before, I cried in frustration of not having anyone whom I could relate to.
But yesterday, my heart was so full, it was bursting.
The sixteen of us: Fathimah ("Ada H, ya. Bukan Fatimah, tapi Fathimah."), Awatif (we call her Awat, just for fun), Mira (a BEN-ner like me), Wani (with her checkered pants that she wears everywhere), Rosmah (the gal who always waits up for her friend), Dilla (of the broken phone key-pad persuasion), Anah (the youngest of the lot, and always being teased that she'd take 5 Tahun 5 Bulan to finish a novel), Alifah (the quiet girl with goo-goo eyes and a welcoming smile), Syima (the other quiet girl with the big, big heart), Pija (the adorable Econs girl), Yati (the one who pretended to be me by wearing my Matric Card when she goes out), Ain (the one who compulsively grabbed me to take a picture with me), Mirya (with the hard to pronounce name. And we both love Big Bang. Wheee!), Sakinah (with the incredible humour, and so-awesome warmth), and Mastura (our lovely Sabah-Kedah BAR student).
Singularly, we're pretty quiet, pretty normal. But when combined...
I think I busted my gall bladder.
Is it any wonder why I love 'em to bits?
Me: *Spots a boy who looks like a BEN-ner*
Him: *sees me spotting him, and tries frantically to avoid eye-contact*
Me: *wants to find out if the boy got an exemption. very determined, approaches, smiles* Eh, awak budak BEN kan?
Him: Um. *stares at me, stares at my Matric Card* Bukan. Saya budak Econs. *stares at my matric card again, reading the details there*
Me: OH. Ya? *smiles beatifically* Sorry! *walks away*
I must've blown a fuse in my mind for not sticking around for a bit and making a male friend. Sigh.
But just for shits and giggles, the next time I see the bewildered boy, I'll wave at him. That should probably make him start thinking that one of us has lost his/her marbles.
_____________________________________________
I got the upper bunk of the double-decker in Room A-1-8 of Mahallah Ummu Salamah (MUSA). The funny thing about the dorm is that all the beds are lined up against the wall, and the fan is placed smack dab in the middle of the room, nowhere near the beds. And OH MY LORD, I think someone raped the ceiling fans till they're lifeless because apparently speed 5 feels like speed 3.
Have I ever mentioned that Nilai is hot? I got blacker just by standing outside in the sunshine.
But despite these trials and tribulations, I've survived (by chickening out and going home every weekend).
The upper bunk is hot as hell at night. What with my bed being so close to the neon-green EXIT sign that flashed eerily at night. After Night 3, I gave up, and dragged my mattress down on the floor, sleeping with Alifah who had also placed her mattress under the merciful cool wind of the fan on the first night. We put our mattresses together and slept peacefully till the Subuh prayers in the morning.
At Night 4, Kinah and Mira dragged down another mattress, and all four of us slept on the 3 combined mattresses.
Is it any wonder that I love the girls with all my heart now?
____________________________________________
Anah, from Kelantan, somehow likes having someone else reply her text messages for her. Or so I'm assuming from her blase attitude towards Dilla's question of "Anah, aku jawabkan, eh?" when her phone flashed with a new message.
And Dilla... omg, Dilla.
She replied the text messages in the Kelantanese dialect at first, getting guidance from Anah.
Next, she went full-throttle Javanese.
Then, it became Mexican (getting much inspiration from the telenovela, Rosalinda).
Laughing our asses off, we then composed a sentence in Hindustani (which translated into "I'm sorry. Do I know you?")
There we all were, cackling like a bunch of loons on the three mattresses on the floor, the sheets untucked at most places, limbs sprawled on top of each other, each of us full from eating Kulat Goreng (our nickname for mushroom fritters) and reading novels.
A few days before, I cried in frustration of not having anyone whom I could relate to.
But yesterday, my heart was so full, it was bursting.
The sixteen of us: Fathimah ("Ada H, ya. Bukan Fatimah, tapi Fathimah."), Awatif (we call her Awat, just for fun), Mira (a BEN-ner like me), Wani (with her checkered pants that she wears everywhere), Rosmah (the gal who always waits up for her friend), Dilla (of the broken phone key-pad persuasion), Anah (the youngest of the lot, and always being teased that she'd take 5 Tahun 5 Bulan to finish a novel), Alifah (the quiet girl with goo-goo eyes and a welcoming smile), Syima (the other quiet girl with the big, big heart), Pija (the adorable Econs girl), Yati (the one who pretended to be me by wearing my Matric Card when she goes out), Ain (the one who compulsively grabbed me to take a picture with me), Mirya (with the hard to pronounce name. And we both love Big Bang. Wheee!), Sakinah (with the incredible humour, and so-awesome warmth), and Mastura (our lovely Sabah-Kedah BAR student).
Singularly, we're pretty quiet, pretty normal. But when combined...
I think I busted my gall bladder.
Is it any wonder why I love 'em to bits?
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