A Comprehensive Guide on Surviving UIA Nilai: Part 2

Surviving Taaruf Week

For Part 1 click here or just look at the post below this one.

Before I start, I just want to tell you newbies that I received a text message today, asking me if I wanted to be the MC for Taaruf Week. I agreed, but I have to be interviewed by a lecturer, first. This Monday at 9 am, to be exact. So, if during Taaruf Week you notice that your MC is abnormally short, rather chubby and speaks with a strange accent, that’s me! :-D

I can’t tell you much about what Taaruf Week will be like, as I didn’t sign up to be the committee, and mine was held in PJ, not in Nilai. Obviously, there will be a lot of differences. So this is just advice from me based on my own experiences.

What I know for sure is that Taaruf Week will be gruelling. You’ll have barely a minute to spare to rest; most of your (very little) free time will be spent taking your ablutions, or changing out of your filthy clothes, or stuffing your face with food. Sleep at night may be limited to 4 hours max – Going to bed past 1, and waking up at 5 in the morning for congregational Subuh prayers. Taaruf Week won’t be painful – just very, very exhausting, for you newbies and the poor committee bossing you around. So allow me to divide this part of the guide based on the highlights of Taaruf Week:

a) Your First Day
b) The Tests You Will Sit Through During Taaruf Week
c) How boring these activities are!


(A) Your First Day

Make sure you get your ass in Nilai as early as possible. Fill in the forms early on so that the registration process will go on smoothly without any delays. Remember; you’re in a race. Your position in this race will determine whether your stay in Nilai will be a pleasant one. Who are your competitors? Your roommates-to-be. And the finish line is your dorm, where, as the winner, you have the privilege to choose the best bed. Get there too late, and you might find that all the best beds have been taken, and you’re left with the top bunk of the bed directly opposite the toilet.

If your hostel is in Block A:

Block A is behind the guy’s dorm, and is across the field from Block C, where all the classrooms are located. Block A is closer to where all the shops are, the mosque and, of course, the guys.

The toilet will be situated inside your dorm, right at the other end. There will be only one window in the dorm, and that is right at the end, too. That window will directly look out to the window of the guys’ dorm. My conclusion? You do not want the bed at the far end of the dorm, directly in front of the smelly toilet, with the guys able to see you from their windows.

If you are the type who doesn’t want to really mix around with the others, you can take the corner bed, the one by the wall near the door. However, right now, you may think you want your privacy, but you might feel a tinge of regret later on if you keep to yourself and you never got a chance to bond with your roommates.

So where is the best bed located, in my opinion? The ones right in the middle of the room, which is also where the only electrical outlets are located. Also, pick the bottom bunk instead of the top bunk. Just trust me on this. There are so many reasons why the bottom bunk is better than the top, but you have to be there yourself to understand. However, if you’ve had experience sleeping on the top bunk in a hostel and enjoyed it, then go ahead and choose that one.

If your hostel is located in Block B1 or B2:

You are a guy. So there’s nothing I can say about the dorms there, I’m afraid.

If your hostel is located in Block D and E:

Block D and E are located across the field from Block A, B1 and B2. They directly face each other and have a sort of courtyard in between. They’re right next to Block C, where the classrooms are located, so there’s no long trek between class and room.

The dorms in Block D and E have huge windows at the end that overlook the courtyard. You also have a bigger space at the end. The toilets are located outside the dorms. What are you waiting for? Go bag the bottom bunk of one of the beds at the end, preferable the one next to the electrical outlet.


A note: I’m not going to bother telling you which hostels are the best; each have their pros and cons, and it’s not like you get to choose, anyway. (But if you do, choose Block E).

By the time you’re in your dorm, you’ve got some time to spare before the first activity of Taaruf Week starts. Besides the obvious (unpacking and whatnots) be sure to introduce yourself to all your roommates as soon as possible. You won’t remember all their names, but that doesn’t matter. These 15+ other girls/boys will be your sisters/brothers for the rest of your stay there, so you do not want to set yourself apart from them. Stick with them for the rest of Taaruf Week so you won’t feel lonely during the long hours spent waiting at the field for activities to begin. Be especially friendly to the roommates taking the same course as you.

One dorm will always have certain personalities that will gravitate towards each other. Throughout the first week, they’ll just be faces with names to you, all new and clique-less. In the 3rd part of this guide, I’ll teach you how to identify the different sets of personalities so you can establish your clique. But for now, just mix around with everyone.

(B) The Tests You Will Sit Through During Taaruf Week

EPT – English Placement Test

Many people have made the mistake of thinking EPT is just a little test to check how proficient their English is. I’ve heard horror stories of people sleeping through their EPT because they were so exhausted, or some who barely bothered to flex their writing talents or read the passages properly because they didn’t think it was worth it. One girl I knew in high school, whom I always competed marks with for English exams, wrote only one paragraph for her essay.

Listen up and listen Good. Your EPT will determine how long you will be staying in Nilai, how many hours of class you will be taking per week, and whether you get to study your Core Courses during your first semester.

Based on your EPT, you will either be put in English Level 3, 4, 5, 6, or be Exempted from learning English altogether. If, say, you get Level 3, you have to take only English subjects (Reading, Writing, Grammar, Listening and Speaking) during your first semester, no matter what course you take. The next semester, you will take English Level 4, on so and on so forth. This means that if you get Level 3, you will have to take a maximum of 4 semesters, even if you don’t fail any of your subjects. 2 whole years in Nilai? Pure torture.

If you are taking Bachelor of English, you will only be able to take your core courses if you get Level 6. For Human Sciences and Law, Level 5. Economics, Level 4. Not so sure about Bachelor of Arabic or Islamic Revealed Knowledge, I’m afraid.

The difference between getting Exempted from English and taking Level 6 is actually quite slim. You will still be taking only 2 semesters in Nilai (unless you have to repeat a paper, or you’re taking Syariah Law). However, being exempted means you needn’t take the 9 hours of English classes required for Level 6. In other words, more free time and less exams on your plate.

So this is how EPT works. You will have to sit for 3 papers; Reading, Grammar, and Writing. Reading is basically comprehension; you read a lot of long and boring passages and answer the questions. Grammar is grammar (duh). Writing requires one argumentative essay. You either back up the topic they give you, or you don’t.

Later on throughout the week, you will find out what Level you got. If you aced it, you get to move on to the second part of EPT, which is Listening and Speaking. If you didn’t ace it, you get either Level 3 to 6. If you sit for Listening and Speaking and pass both of them, you will be Exempted.

Don’t feel embarrassed if you don’t get qualified for Listening and Speaking. During my batch, out of the thousands of students (arts and science), only 60 sat for Listening and Speaking. And out of that 60, 59 passed. And I was the only Human Sciences student who went for Listening and Speaking. Even for Bachelor of English, only 2 students were qualified (Atikah and Hamizah).

Listening requires you to be crammed in a hall with the other students and you have to listen to the CD, then scribble the answers in your paper. It is a LOT harder than MUET’s Listening, because the questions and passages are played only once, and there are open-ended questions too. My advice? Pergi korek telinga tu.

Speaking is basically a one-on-one interview with the lecturer. You get a topic, and have to talk about it. It is a LOT easier than MUET’s Speaking, because the lecturer will prompt you and ask questions, instead of staring at you coldly, mouth tightly shut. When it was my turn, I got a really nice lecturer who let me switch topics from television to (what else?) books.

APT – Arabic Placement Test

Unless you’re taking BAR (Bachelor of Arabic) or IRK (Islamic Revealed Knowledge) or Law, there will only be 2 outcomes from sitting for APT: Exempted or Not Exempted.

If you’ve never learned Arabic in all your life, just fill in your particulars on the front page of the exam paper, wait five to ten minutes (to save face), then leave the room.

If you have learned Arabic before, then do your best because, if you pass, you’ll be spared from 8 hours of Arabic classes a week.

Fardhu Ain Placement Test

The point of the Fardhu Ain test is to place you in either Fardhu Ain classes (which means you failed the test) or Study Circle (which means you passed the test).

If you get Fardhu Ain classes, you’ll have to go to the classes, learn, study and sit for exams just like any other subject.

If you get Study Circle, you are placed in a group of around 10 peers, lead by a Study Circle Facilitator. Each week, you meet up for an hour, discuss about the topic for the week, then leave. You automatically get marks for attending. And that’s all there is to it.

The test is based on what you learnt in high school for Pendidikan Islam. So brush up on your knowledge if you want to pass. (I passed, but I swear it must have been a fluke).

(C) How boring these Activities are!

Taaruf Week will be filled with activities. Every night, you will have to meet in the field to sing the Asma’ul Husna, the CFS song, practise the Bai’ah session and other boring stuff I can’t remember, which will last till the wee hours of the morning. And if I pass the interview on this Monday, then I’ll be the one barking orders at all of you to sing the CFS song for the millionth time because you sound like whiny school kids.

As I mentioned at the beginning, you will have to wake up at around 5am to attend congregational prayers. Why so early? Because there are only 3 shower stalls per dorm, and 2 loos. If you don’t want to be late, or queue up to shower, or be forced to skip your morning shower altogether, it’s best you wake up before everyone else does and the mad rush for the toilet begins.

Besides the congregational prayers, nightly torture at the fields (with I, insyaAllah, being your main torturer) and the tests, there will be activities like Opening Ceremony, Group Dynamics, Cultural Night, Talks and other loads of stuff I can’t remember because it was a whole year ago. For activities that require you to listen to something that is boring beyond comprehension, it’s best if you discreetly wear your earphones under your tudung and listen to your MP3 player, or start a conversation with your equally bored neighbour. Don’t bother bringing a book with you at night – it will be too dark and you’ll only strain your eyes.

Remember; you’ll only go through Taaruf Week once, so even though there are times when you feel like breaking down, or quitting UIA, or hiding in your dorm, do make the most out of the 7 backbreaking days. The Taaruf committee are your seniors, not your prison guards, so if you need help, refer to them immediately.



PS: I cannot guarantee you that all that I explained will take place. For example, they may change the format of the tests, cut down or add to the activities, etcetera. This is all based solely on my Taaruf Week experience.

A Comprehensive Guide on Surviving UIA Nilai: Part 1: Preparing for UIA Nilai

So you received the offer letter. Whether you got it immediately after the UPU results came out, or you had to appeal (like I did), or you got in based on your stellar SPM results, or you simply called up a relative to pull some strings (like I did), none of that matters. You’ll be enrolling in UIA in July 2008. Congratulations!

But now you’re wondering what to expect from UIA. Well, for those who are coming to Nilai, you needn’t worry for I have specially written this guide for you! Wait. Scratch that. You should be worried, because Nilai is unfit for human habitation. But this guide will prepare you for what exactly you’ll be up against.

Okay, I’m dividing this guide into 3 parts:

a) Preparing for UIA Nilai,
b) Surviving Taaruf Week,
c) Making the best out of your semester

Read carefully, take note, and buckle up, cuz staying in Nilai is gonna be one helluva ride!

(God, I love clichés)

Preparing for UIA Nilai

1) Make sure you’ve come up with a careful list of things that you want to bring with you. You might wanna check out Jem’s blog, as she has quite a comprehensive list. I would also advise you to add to her list:

a) a long mirror that you can hang on your locker. There will be only one mirror provided in the dorm, so you can imagine the hoard of girls (or guys) hogging it before they go to class. Spare the bruises from having to shove your way to the front by purchasing one for yourself.

b) A small mirror, to put above the sink in the toilet. Especially if you wear contact lenses.

c) A pole to hang clothes [Ed: I remember what it's called now: Clothes Rack. I'm such a bimbo]. Don’t even bother to hang your laundry in the drying area. In three days, they still won’t be dry. Instead, buy that pole thingy and you can put it in your study room, directly under the ceiling fans, to dry your laundry overnight. Even if you don’t plan to wash your clothes in Nilai, you should still buy it, as other alternative places for hanging your entire wardrobe would be the side of your bed, and in your (too small) locker.

d) Extension plug. You MUST bring an extension plug with you because the dorm has only 2 electrical outlets.

e) A straw mat, at least big enough to cover the area between your bed and the next. So far, no dorm has yet to be equipped with linoleum to cover the filthy concrete floor. It has been promised by the authorities, but I wouldn’t really trust them.

f) Convenient breakfast food, such as instant mushroom soup and Nesvita. Some classes might begin from 8am, and you won’t have time to leisurely eat nasi lemak or roti canai at the cafes. If your class is from 8am to 1pm, without break, don’t even dream of going to class on an empty stomach. I tried it once, and the only thought entering my mind during those 5 hours was aku lapar.

g) A laptop. Because if you have a laptop, it will be your best friend in Nilai.


2) You know that bunch of forms you’ve got to fill in? Fill it in now. And I mean now. Get off the Internet, get your black pen out and complete the damn things. I, idiot that I was, left it til the morning we were departing for registration day. I would not want even my worst enemies to go through that experience. Oh, and you know that form where it asks you to tick whatever clubs you want to join? It doesn’t matter what club you tick, because once the semester starts you can still join whichever club you want.

3) Sign up for a Muamalat account and pay the registration fees at a Muamalat Bank nearest to you. I know, I know, it says you can do that at campus on registration day. But don’t. There will be hundreds of people queuing up to open their account and pay the fees on that day. Waste of time, energy, and the opportunity to book yourself a good bed.

4) Be extra nice to your siblings/friends. You’re going to need them to go with you on registration day and carry all your luggage up to your dorm. The last thing you want is to have them boycott you and leave you struggling alone with your 100kg worth of belongings.

5) Brush up on your English skills, Arabic skills (at least, practice writing faster) because you will be tested on this, and memorise the Asma'ul Husna to avoid embarassment.

6) What else? Go shopping! Again, do not leave this till the last minute as you might suddenly realise you’ve forgotten an important item on your list…


If you’ve fulfilled all that I’ve listed above, you can now relax. You’ve done all you can to prepare beforehand for your new semester. Stay tuned for Part 2 of The Guide: How To Survive Taaruf Week. Meanwhile, you can check out pictures of the campus here at Ramizah's blog. And of course, if you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to flood the comment box.

I Am Bimbo (Volume I of The Bimbo Chronicles)

Note: Volume I of The Bimbo Chronicles occurred in the middle of last semester

I glanced at my reflection one last time through the teeny mirror I had hung on my bed, before heading out of the dorm. As usual, I was late for class.

As I navigated my way through the narrow corridor, a girl walking my way beamed at me and said, ‘Hi Anisah!’

Bemused, but not trying to show it, I said ‘Hi!’ back, hoping she wouldn’t notice I hadn’t said her name in return. I was absolutely certain I had never seen this girl before. But then again, lately, it was becoming more and more common for girls whom I didn’t recognise to smile at me, or even call out my name. After thinking about it, I had come to the conclusion that these girls were probably my sister’s students, or among the committee of some of the events I had also handled.

To my horror, the girl went up to me, obviously about to approach me. Who was this girl? Praying that she wouldn’t realise I had no idea who she was, I smiled and braced myself for a conversation.

‘Anisah, I was wondering if you still have the MC script you used for the Dato’ Fadzilah Kamsah talk?’ the girl asked.

Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. So that’s how this girl knew me. She must be a member of the Guidance and Counselling Club, the club that had organised the talk. And of course she’d remember me, as I had been the one on stage, hosting it. I smiled, feeling proud of myself for figuring it out.

‘Yeah, I have a copy of it in my study room. Do you need it now?’ I asked, hoping against hope that she’d say no. I was running really late now.

‘No, that’s okay. Actually, I only need the names of the VIP from MPN,’ the girl reassured me. ‘How about tonight?’

‘Sure, no problem!’ I said brightly. ‘But I have a meeting tonight, so I’ll just leave it in my study room for you, okay? That’ll be room A-1-4.’

The girl gave me a strange look. ‘I know. We’re roommates, remember?’

Oops!

I'd prefer it if you ignore this very emo post

Yesteday, Izzati said something very profound to me, especially as I was in a very depressed mood for reasons that are too personal (but you can guess the reason if you know me in real life, or have been reading the comments I've been getting).

Anyway, she said:

"Guys are like toilets. They're either taken or full of shit"

So far, that has been so, so true for me. Any guy I'm interested in, either turns out to be taken, plain weird, or just not interested. The boredom of singlehood is killing me softly (haha, excuse the cliche, please).

There are times when I love hanging out with my girlfriends, laughing, gossiping and doing some harmless bitching that only girls know how to do ;-) But sometimes, I just feel like I'd like to have a certain someone I know I can depend on, confide to, whine to, seek solace, share all that I can, and love. And, most importantly, have that feeling be mutual.

Flirting? I used to enjoy that. But now it feels so empty. Meaningless. A wink there, a hint here. It won't be going anywhere. A strong, stable relationship isn't founded on some witty pick-up line.

Aaargh emonya aku tiba-tiba. I think Nilai and shit-filled guys are taking its toll on me.

What Happened in Arabic Class Today

(this conversation was conducted via text message, Me in class, Hamizah at home… I think)

Me: Hamizah!! What is jama' [plural] for sodiqoh [friend]?!?

Hamizah Dried Sweety: Sodoiq.

Ten minutes later…


















Me: Hamizah I’m going to kill you!!!

Hamizah Dried Sweety:… HEY I HAVEN’T BEEN LEARNING ARAB FOR 2 MONTHS

Me: THE WHOLE CLASS BURST INTO LAUGHTER AND THE USTAZ ASKED ME IF I WAS SPEAKING IN BRUNEI *DIES IN HUMILIATION*








PS: Hamizah Dried Sweety: Her name’s just Hamizah, but that’s what I put in my phone after she kept remarking on how dry she was

PPS: The real answer is Asdiqo

Apologies

Sometimes, I get so carried away when I write on my blog, so eager to share with the world about my experiences and my thoughts, so eager to amuse whoever (un)fortunate enough to stumble upon my blog, that I tend to forget the smaller details.

Like the fact that what I write about could hurt many, many people. And I'm not just referring specifically to those whom I directly mentioned in my blog posts (such as the many, many guys in "Love" Dilemmas, the innocent people Muslimah Menegur gossiped about, the girls in Mean Girls, and, the latest, the people in the entry directly below this one), but also others who are somehow connected to these people I thoughtlessly write about.

So, I'm really sorry. I honestly swear I merely write with the intention to entertain myself and others who read this. Never to hurt anyone, least of all innocent bystanders. If you are offended by anything I write, please take the time to fully understand what I wrote, then feel free to send me the hatemail at anisah.shurfa@yahoo.co.uk

What Has Gone Wrong With Our Generation?

When I see people my age being… how should I say it? Not so Islamic? I just shake my head, shrug my shoulders and think never mind. Allah just hasn’t opened their hearts yet. I try not to judge people who wear revealing clothes, or forget their limits when socialising or casually remark that they don’t pray. As my friend Dina says, these Muslim-by-name-but-not-Muslim-by-nature people were usually brought up this way – born and bred in a world where short skirts and tank tops are acceptable clothing, drinking alcohol is as common as plain water, clubbing is just another way to relax, and snogging your significant other is merely a sign of affection. When everyone around you is doing it, when religion is regarded as an afterthought by those you live with, it’s hard to pull yourself out of that world unless you have the actual, real initiative to change.

But darlings, there are limits to acting this way. If you want to sin, then that’s between you and Allah. But don’t attack those who choose not to sin, don’t involve other people with your sinful act, and, do use your common sense as you commit your sin.

Case #1

There is one show I do subtitles for which I truly despise. It is called Sindarella, a local-made show. Why do I despise it? Because it is spreading the wrong messages to the masses about people who choose to cover their aurah.

The main character, Zoe, is a tomboy with cropped hair, black makeup and whose shorts are a staple of her wardrobe. She is rude, she is distasteful, but deep inside, she has a Heart of Gold. She is the epitome of a Don’t Judge A Book By It’s Cover scenario.

Ayu is another character, with the looks to match her name. She is sweet, demure, and, even though she doesn’t wear tudung, she is always seen in baju kurungs. However, she cheats on her boyfriend by getting engaged to another man. She is the epitome of a Hypocrite.

Don’t see where I’m going yet? How about this: Zoe has a conversation about the cheated boyfriend on girls who cover their aurah. It goes something like this:

The Cheated Boyfriend: I can’t believe Ayu would do something like that to me. Nama pun Ayu. Rupa pun Ayu jugak.

Zoe: It’s girls who look and act like Ayu who are more dangerous! These girls who wear tudung, who wear baju kurung – do they think they’re so good, that they’ll be guaranteed a place in heaven? And girls who dress like me are going straight to hell?

WHAT THE EFF???

Why are they – the scripwriters, the producer, the director, that idiotic bimbo Sharifah Amani, everyone else in that stupid gang -- attacking those who choose to cover their aurah? Why are they labelling those who wear tudung as deceitful, untrustworthy hypocrites? What, we are all automatically hypocrites and less honest because we choose to follow Allah’s rules regarding the aurah?

Look, if you want to sin, not cover your aurah and etcetera, that’s between you and Allah. But do not attack those who do follow Allah’s rules. You claim to be stereotyped as being Unislamic because you don’t cover your aurah. So now you want to stereotype those who do cover their aurah, as hypocrites?

Just like Tudung-Hater and that “melayu” who commented on my Ugly Men post.

Case #2

My 16-year-old brother, Firdaus, told me this story.

His friend girl – let’s call her P.E – was proudly showing all her classmates pictures of her and her boyfriend, taken from a photobooth. She showed some of the photos to Firdaus, but withholding one back from him. “Mesti Firdaus marah kalau dia nampak yang ni” she was saying.

Firdaus looked through the photos she allowed him to see, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Their were photos of her and her boyfriend cuddling each other, kissing each other on the cheek… Was she not aware of the fact that, in Islam, those of the opposite gender are not allowed to lay even one finger on each other? Yes, she must be, otherwise she would not choose to withhold that one picture from my brother.

Furious, Firdaus wrenched the final picture from her grasp, and the photo she had been “hiding” from him was revealed. There was P.E, straddling her boyfriend, her tongue down his throat. Disgusting. And this was the picture that she was proudly sharing with all her classmates, as if this was something to gloat about to her peers, and not a shameful, sinful act that should be kept to herself.

A classmate looked at the picture over Firdaus’s shoulder, and snorted derisively. ‘Hek eleh, setakat ni je pun nak bangga,’ the classmate jeered loudly.

I am so glad I no longer go to SMKTTDI.

Case #3

I have a guy friend whom I met in UIA. He’s cool – really laidback and friendly, and his girlfriend is a nice girl whom I’ve hung out with a couple of times.

One day, guy friend showed me a photo his friend had taken of he and his girlfriend in an … indecent act. The two were on a bed, their tongues down each other’s throat, clutching each other, the boyfriend topless, the girl (thank God) fully dressed, though her tudung had been discarded.

The first thing that came to my mind was what the hell are they doing??

The second thing was what the hell had possessed them to take such a photo??

Let’s touch upon the first thing that came to my mind. Sure, they were young. They were in love. But that does not mean you should give away your body to the first person who says ‘I love you’ to you.

Girls, your body is something to be regarded as sacred. That’s why you must cover you aurah; so you may protect what is yours from eyes who have no right to ravage it. Why let random strangers you pass by get a taste of you for free? What you have is something to be treasured – something you must store away for the one and only person who truly deserves it; your husband.

Then there’s the fact that they actually snapped this picture, roping a third person in their act of sin to be the photographer.

Why oh why did they take such an incriminating photo? Can you imagine if these two lovebirds break up sourly, and, as a revenge, that picture is spread throughout campus, or even the Internet? The boyfriend had already shown me the photo, even though he promised the girlfriend he wouldn’t show it to anyone. Can you imagine how many other people he must have shown that photo to, besides me? His roommates, definitely.

This reminds me of a story of a UIA girl sending her UIA boyfriend a picture of her through MMS, in nothing but her underwear. When the boyfriend was sleeping, his roommates got a hold of his phone and bluetoothed it to everyone they could.

O what fools these mortals be!

Books Wishlist!!

Here’s my wishlist of books I want, but can’t buy because I am desperately broke. So if I have a secret admirer out there who has a lot of cash to spare, here’s your time to shine! Feel free to buy any one of these books for me and come up with a deceptively clever way to give it to me, like what happened to Izzati Rahman – some unknown person mysteriously left a book she desperately wanted onto her bed in her dorm. And she’s not even single, you guys!!

And I thought things like these only happen in fairytales. *pouts*

Book 1: The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory


It sounds so deliciously interesting. I caught my sister reading it – she borrowed it from a friend – and when I asked her if I could read it, her reply was, ‘you’re too young for it’. LAGI LA I NAK BACA LA WEI!!! (and; too young? How old does she think I am, 14? I’m legally an adult now. I can watch whatever movies I want in the cinema. So there, KakZimah!!!) *Edited: just found out that this book actually belongs to my other sis, Kak Asma, so I'll definitely be able to find a way to sneak in her room and read it, if she, like KakZimah, won't allow me to read it ;-) Btw, cannot wait to watch the movie!! I heart Eric Bana*

Book 2: Septimus Heap: Queste by Angie Sage


I’m still addicted to children’s fantasy. So far, the only children’s fantasy that I think can rival the Harry Potter series is Bartimaeous Trilogy – a series I finished reading years ago. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ BARTIMAEOUS TRILOGY AND YOU LIKE HARRY POTTER THEN YOU MUST GO NOW AND READ IT BECAUSE IT IS BETTER THAN HARRY POTTER!!! The Septimus Heap books are good, but not that memorable. But I have the 3 previous books, and I need to know what happens next.

Book 3: Time Travelers (The Gideon Trilogy) by Linda Buckley-Archer


Oh my God the cover is so darn enticing. And the reviews at the back! Better than Potter? Oh my God I am shivering in excitement, anticipation, and delight. Someone, get me this book now.

Book 4: The Tough Guide To Fantasyland: The Essential Guide To Fantasy Travel by Diana Wynne Jones

THIS BOOK IS SO FRICKIN FUNNY. It’s supposed to be a sort of A-Z guide on what to expect from any Fantasyland, with Dianne Wynne Jones pulling out well-worn clichés taken from other books as references. Entries like “Cloak”, “Wise Old Companion”, “Quest”, “Mysterious Stranger” and others that I was able to read in the bookshop are hilariously funny. This book is catered for those who have digested enough fantasy novels to be able to appreciate the clichés she uses, and even a great guide for those who are writing a fantasy novel and want to either use this book for ideas, or to steer clear away from clichés. In other words, this book is meant to be read and memorised by me.

Book 5: The Subtle Knife (His Dark Materials, book 2) by Phillip Pullman


I’ve only read the first book, which I actually found a bit boring. But my friend insists that the second and third book is way better. I’d love to know what happens next, and I actually enjoyed The Golden Compass movie.

Book 6: Any Jodi Picoult book (except for Keeping Faith, My Sister’s Keeper and 19 Minutes) or John Grisham book (Except for The Firm)

Their books are really thick and really good. What more would a bookaholic want?

Book 7: Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox by Eoin Colfer

This book is actually coming out on July 15, which is A DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY. So if anyone wants to make my 19th birthday a really, really happy day for me, pre-order this book at Amazon.com for me. Pretty, pretty please? *bats eyelashes*

Mean Girls

Meet Girls A, B, C and D.

These girls were the seniors of LAC, a club I’d joined in semester 1; they were loud, fun, nice and – even though I may not want to hang out with them outside of UIA – these girls were my friends.

In LAC; the lines that separate each clique seemed almost like they were made up of neon lights; loud and glaring. There was the clique that was made out of the more boisterous members (A, B, C and D, as well as a few senior guys, and all of the junior guys), a clique made out of the tamer seniors, and a clique consisting of the rest of the juniors.

As the assistant director of this club, it was easier for me to interact with the seniors compared to the rest of the juniors, who clustered among themselves in a close-knit, quiet group. And though I got on fairly well with all the cliques, I liked to believe that I belonged to the boisterous one. Why? These people were loud. They were funny like hell. And they clearly loved LAC, just like I did.

But one trip to Port Dickson with them changed everything for me.

***

I tugged on the bottom of my baju kurung self-consciously as I stepped out of the hotel room. Usually, I didn’t give a crap if I was the only person wearing something different – on the contrary, I love to stand out. But it felt so weird, being one of only a few LAC members wearing a baju kurung for Cultural Night, while the others were dressed smartly in blouses and jeans and dresses. They were all even wearing black and white, for God’s sake. Had they all planned what to wear among themselves, and not bothered to fill me or the other members from Nilai about it?

I shook my head. Nah. I was being paranoid. Why would they do that, and not inform me earlier? It must be a coincidence. It must be.

Already feeling my bad mood settling in, I set out towards the pool, where the barbecue would be served, and the performances for each group participating in this English Camp would be held. It was a beautiful night; the stars were shining, the area deserted except for those who had come along with us, and the inky-black pool looked so deliciously inviting. The laughter of those who had already arrived to the barbecue rang out in the distance.

I was walking alone, but there were many participants around me chattering eagerly, all making their way towards the area. Among the crowd, I spotted A. Relieved – I don’t think there’s any worse feeling than the feeling of being alone in a crowd – I joined her and we walked together towards the pool.

‘A! A, come over here and let’s take pictures!’ came a shrill, familiar voice from behind us.

We both turned. B was motioning towards us, and with her were C and D, all striking poses as an unfortunate participant held a camera.

B. I liked B. She, like A, C and D, was a senior and residing in PJ campus. However, unlike they, who were veteran members since their first year in CFS, she had joined LAC at the same times as I had, and hadn’t known anyone in the club. We had struck a friendship during the previous semester when we were both still settling in, and that’s how we ended up being in the same clique. But B’s the type of person you’d call a “party friend” – you know, someone whom you gush over with when you meet up, give air kisses and hugs, and generally have a lot of fun with when you’re together, but you wouldn’t really call her up if you were in a crisis. B was slightly on the bimbotic side – constantly wearing skimpy clothes and almost always seen flirting with any guy – which was why I wouldn’t really hang out with her outside of UIA. But I liked her because she was nice and friendly.

A and I walked over to B – A more quickly than I, because I realised that B hadn’t exactly called my name, though I wasn’t sure why. Thinking that it was nothing, I walked over to the girls, ready to menyibuk and grin for the camera. But B stopped me with a raised eyebrow.

‘Excuse me,’ she said innocently, looking down at me, out of earshot of A, C and D. ‘You’re in the way.’

Excuse me?

I blinked, startled, and tried to compose myself. ‘Oh, sorry,’ I said nonchalantly, then walked off.

I was so confused by what had just happened, I must have been walking at a crawl’s pace without noticing it, because when I arrived at the barbecue area, A, B, C and D were already settled at a round table. I glanced at the table to the right. Apparently, the tables would be divided between guys and girls – a common occurrence in UIA, certainly, but an unusual one in LAC. I took a seat right beside C, and the five of us ate in uncharacteristic silence.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of the junior girl members from Nilai take a different table instead of joining ours. I wasn’t surprised – A, B, C and D tended to act as if the junior girls of LAC – with the exception of me, as I was their friend, and sometimes Manal, as she was my friend – didn’t exist, and the juniors were resenting being snubbed so obviously. Who could blame them? I was just starting to know how it felt like to be snubbed, myself.

Little did I know that that stunt with the photo-taking was merely the beginning of what was to be a miserable night of snubbing.

As I ate silently, I spotted Manal finally arriving. No surprise that she headed straight to the junior’s table. But I overheard her ask them, ‘apasal tak join meja tu? Banyak lagi tempat kosong.’

The juniors shook their head. No way were they going to join the snooty seniors. Shrugging, Manal joined their table. And suddenly I felt very, very alone.

Suddenly, a junior guy, H, joined our table, as the guys’ table was full. The mood at our table immediately lightened up. We laughed, joked, listened to the DJ – our very own LAC guy members were behind the jockey – and enjoyed the steak. I felt like I was among friends again, and the earlier tiff was forgotten.

B was laughing and talking to H, who was on my left. I pricked up my ears when I realised they were gossiping about LAC. But as B’s voice was loud and shrill, all of us at the table tuned into her next words.

‘H,’ she said, grinning and batting her eyelids/eyelashes towards him in typical B-style, ‘the four of us are LAC’s hotstuff.’ She motioned towards herself and A, C and D.

I stiffened. The four of us? So what happened to the fifth and only other girl at the table, AKA moi? What was B trying to say??

I know I should have said something sassy there and then, like if you guys are “LAC’s hotstuff”, then I’m LAC’s goddess. But I was just too stunned at the way my beloved friend here was trying to ostracize me from my group of friends.

After a while, H disappeared from the table, as well as B, leaving just me, A, C and D at the table.

As I was digging into my meal, suddenly, the voice of the DJ boomed out. ‘The next song is dedicated to A, C and D!’

A, C and D squealed in laughter.

‘Ni mesti kerja P!’ giggled D, smacking the table.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as every occupant of my table smiled and swayed to the music – a song dedicated to everyone at my table except me. What D said must be true. But why had B purposely skipped over me?

B returned to our table looking like a cat that had swallowed a canary. She didn’t even once look my way, and instead giggled and laughed with the other 3 girls. ‘Do you like it?’

By this time, I think my insides had turned to ice. I felt like I was a ghost – an invisible being hovering at the table, unnoticed and ignored by the girls I previously thought were my friends.

‘Hey you girls,’ began B, still pointedly not looking my way. ‘Let’s take pictures by the pool!’

The other 3 voiced out their agreement. Before I could move another muscle, before I even realised what was happening, the girls had jumped out of their chairs and rushed off without even glancing my way. I found myself sitting all alone at the table, every single seat except mine completely empty.

I looked at the tables to my right; the guys were roaring in laughter and generally having a good time.

I looked at the tables to my left; the participants were all gathered together, talking, getting to know each other better, enjoying the food.

I turned around and looked at the pool; A, B, C and D were running around, taking pictures, laughing loudly.

I was at a loss at what to do. Here I was alone at this table, deserted by my so-called friends, tired, miserable, and just plain hurt. I hadn’t yet finished my meal, but I didn’t have any appetite anymore – not when I’d just been so obviously abandoned by the very people I usually associated myself with. The night’s performances hadn’t even started yet, and I was expected to sing with the rest of LAC as if none of this had happened, as if my friends hadn’t just made it clear to my face – in the meanest way possible – that they didn’t want me around anymore. And the thing that confused me most was why they were doing this.

I just wanted to go back to my hotel room and dive into my bed. Or, better yet, go home and wish I had never gone to this camp.

But then, I heard someone call out my name.

“Anisah! Come and join us!’

I snapped my head up. Manal was waving at me from her table, a friendly smile on her face. I almost burst into tears of gratitude there and then. The rest of the juniors were looking my way too, smiling, motioning me over.

Thank God thank God thank god, I thought, over and over again, as I hurried over to their table and plastered a smile on my face.

***

It took me that night to realise that these people, they were my real friends. Sure, they were more quiet, more reserved, less outgoing. But they didn’t hesitate to extend a hand when they saw a friend in need, and were sure as hell not going to treat a friend as if they were as expendable as monthly contact lenses.

To B, if you’re reading this, thank you for making Cultural Night during the camp so memorable for me. You taught me a real lesson. I don’t know why you suddenly turned on me like that, and I sure as hell don’t care why. I’m just grateful I’m never going to have to see you again.

PS: I forgot how therapeutic blogging is. I feel so much better now. In fact, I think I have no anger towards B anymore. This might have all just been a misunderstanding, and she wasn't actually trying to ostracize me at all. I'm really giving her the benefit of the doubt here.

PPS (added on 26th May 2008): Just in case anyone gets the wrong impression regarding LAC (which, btw, stands for Language Awareness Campaign), you should know that the members are all actually really nice and friendly, and I love them like crazy. Case in point: Manal, Qistina and the other junior girls who immediately rescued me when I needed them, and Haziq, also a junior member who, after reading this entry, instantly contacted me, angry on my behalf and asking me why I hadn't told him this earlier. And the seniors are the coolest people I've ever met! :-D

"Love" Dilemmas Part/Semester 2

Note: Click here for Part/Semester 1

I’m sure we Arts students all remember our initial reaction when we first stepped onto Nilai Campus, our heart plunging into the depths of our toes at the sight of our new “home”.

You’d think we’d been punished for daring to take liberal arts instead of sticking to the Science stream. Because Nilai… Nilai was nothing. Just a random bunch of building blocks stuck in the middle of nowhere. Sports facilities? What sports facilities? Oh, you mean that vacant, grassy, uneven lot in the middle? Yeah, good luck trying to play football and rugby on that.

The view of the football field from my room in PJ campus. I have fond memories of taking out my binoculars every evening to watch the “brothers” play.

The view of the “field” in Nilai campus. Looks like my binoculars will be rotting within my locker for the rest of my stay in Nilai.

After registration at “C Block” I trudged across the “field” to my new hostel, “A Block”.

A Block. Yes, A Block.

Upon learning that my hostel would be directly back-to-back with the guys’s hostel, I didn’t know whether to be pleased or horrified. It didn’t help that Guy #5 had sent me a text message saying he could see directly into the girl’s hostel – my hostel – from the window in his room.

Nice.

For some reason, the welcome sign on the fence of the hostel looked very sarcastic to me. Or maybe it’s because they wrote “welcome” with the “”. Lovely sense of humour, that.

A sign like that costs RM200. Nice to think UIA isn’t skimping on making us feel “welcomed”.

I had already known, from a previous visit with the FSCC, that each dorm would be occupied by 20 girls. I did not know, however, that the toilets had no hose, meaning we had to keep rejecting the call of nature, that mirrors were found nowhere, so we girls had to resort to any reflective surfaces to fix our tudung, and that there would be no linoleum at all, leaving the cement floor bare and us girls wondering how we were supposed to pray. Luckily, the answer to our prayers was directly in front of our hostel.

Masjid Bandar Baru Nilai. Gorgeous, no? But, strangely, for all it’s beauty, you couldn’t hear the azan even if you were standing right where I was when I took the picture

But enough of that. Let’s get to the “love” part of my entry, alright? That night, Guy #5 asked me to have dinner with him and a bunch of friends at the café. And that was when I discovered the upside of Nilai campus: the many, many cafes.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks, in which almost every night I, Guy #5 and a couple of his friends would explore different cafes around campus. (This was, of course, before my heavy FSCC workload toppled on top of me and I had to go to meetings every night, either in PJ or in Nilai).

I spent so much time with Guy #5, I thought I might as well be his girlfriend, especially as it was clear that he still liked me that way. So I became his girlfriend, for one very strange month in which I was very doubtful that this relationship would go far because we were just too different. Guy #1, in particular, kept telling me I was too good for Guy #5.

Yeah, Guy #1. Remember him, the Medic student with a girlfriend? During semester 1, he had unofficially adopted me as his little sister, so we had a very sibling-ish relationship going on there. I thought it was very unfortunate that he had a girlfriend, as he was a) Islamic enough (he was a study circle facilitator, for God’s sake) b) Intelligent (he considers his GPA, 3.7, a fail) c) had leadership qualities, d) was definitely busy, e) did not smoke. He also got bonus points for conversing in English fluently AND liking animals.

But he didn’t read books.

But back to my “relationship”. It was Guy #5 himself who broke it off, by sending me a vague text message at 2am in the morning. He mentioned that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and that he wanted to be alone. Something which I found ironic, as it was he who insisted we be together. With complete and utter disbelief at the realisation that I had just been dumped, I went back to sleep.

3 days later, while I was having lunch at Midvalley Megamall with Guy #1, Guy #5 texted me out of the blue, asking me to accept him again. Needless to say, I firmly refused. As Aisya likes to say, “mana boleh dia telan balik apa yang dia dah ludah”. Wise words indeed.

And that was the end of that.

Fast forward to 2 months later, during the Annual Grand Dinner for the FSCC.

Because it was an FSCC event, by default I was chosen to be the MC. By that time, I’d already been MC for 5 different events, and had turned down 3 MC opportunities. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous every time I stand up there, or that I’m even good at doing it. For one thing, I know that every single time I become MC, I will always make one major mistake. And I hate deviating from the script because having to speak impromptu in public is scary, ok?

Anyway, everything was going all fine and dandy, and after all the *yawn* speeches, I invited everyone to eat. As soon as I went down the stage, my heart sank when I saw the PM running towards me – I knew there would be no dinner for me.

Indeed, while everyone was enjoying their dinner, I was amending my script and supervising the reorganising of the 100+ certificates – certificates with names that I would have to call out in the correct order.

And that’s when PS made his appearance.

(Now, you can guess all you like about what those initials stand for – certainly not his real name. But If I told you, you’d probably guess who he was immediately. And we can’t have that, can we? ;-) )

PS was someone I barely knew, as he was a subcommittee, but there he was, holding a plate of food for me and asking me where he’d like me to put it. Dazed, I informed him where. And while I finally was able to eat, he brought drinks for me, and even cake when I requested it. Wow.

Now here is where I made my mistake. I am the type who would never expect, not even in a million years, that any guy would like me unless he spelt it out to me. And even then, I’d find it hard to believe. So I thought PS was just being nice, and that it was impossible there was anything more to it. So, every time he was being so nice, I would breezily say, ‘thanks darling!’ or ‘thanks, love!’.

I have learned my lesson now.

A couple of days later, he began texting me. It started out friendly enough, but THEN:

“Huhu jgn jeles.. ok lh, ngantok dh. Nite my darling..Sweet dream.. =>

And it got progressively heavier the next day.

“Assalamualaikum. Hi darling. Mlm ni dinner kat ne? Tadi I nampak you”

Or

“Assalamualaikum. My little cute girl, dah bangun?”

Or even

“do u hve a spcl boyfrnd?’

Not only would he text AND call me every day, I began to bump in him a LOT more around campus. And it wasn’t by accident on his part, either. If I was eating at a café with my girlfriend, and he was walking pass the café, he would double back, enter the café, pull out a chair and sit across me.

And when I was with my (brilliant but noisy) study group at the library, out of the 8 of us, he’d be the only kid at my table not taking Human Sciences, and studying an entirely different subject.

And if I was withdrawing money from the ATM machine, I’d turn around and “boo!” he’d be behind me.

If I didn’t reply his text messages, he’d text again asking why. If I still didn’t reply, he’d call. And call. And call.

But it was my fault too, for not being straight with him. I didn’t tell him I didn’t like it when he called me “darling”. If he asked me why I didn’t reply his text messages, I’d apologise and say I’d been really busy, instead of telling him the truth – I just couldn’t be bothered to, that his constant calls, text messages and popping-out-of-nowhere stunts were getting on my nerves.

But on the morning of my Basic Themes of Al-Quran exam, my patience just snapped. When he called me up for Subuh prayers – something he’d be doing without fail every morning at 6.30 – I told him that it was unnecessary, that I already had an alarm, as well as 16 other roommates who’d make sure I’d be awake.

“Yela, siapa la I ni kan :(” he replied in a text message.

FRUSTRATION!!

And when I explained that I just didn’t want to burden him, he told me “I love to tke cre of u..it’s my pleasure..Bcse u r so special 2 me..Rmmbr that..”

Heart beating in my throat, I quickly sent him a text message saying, in a roundabout way, that he was just a friend to me, and that I wasn’t looking for anything more than that with anyone (because, seriously, so not ready for a relationship right now). I even got my roommate Hamizah to read the message I wrote before I sent it to him.

“It’s ok dear… I realsed dat b4… but u will alwez get the bst frm me..” he replied.

Not exactly the reply I had expected, but at least he got the picture. I went to the exam with a light heart, found the paper surprisingly easy, and then rushed back to my room to prepare for the next paper that very same day, Psychology, which was also surprisingly easy.

Strange, isn’t it, that I got A- for both Basic Themes of Al-Quran and Psychology, two different papers that I had on the same day I took a stand with PS?

PS (oops, not that PS): Aisya says I keep writing about guys in my blog, and that I come off sounding gatal and desperate. So I won’t be posting “Love” Dilemmas Part/Semester 3, starring Guy #1, then…

PPS: All of this is really personal for a public, non-anonymous blog, and I know one of the many Guys I mentioned will discover this entry sooner or later. So I’ll probably delete Part 1 and Part 2 sometime later in the future.

Gossip Girl: UIA Nilai Version

I’ve been watching Gossip Girl since it first came out in the US because I’ve read the books, the show’s actually better than the books, everyone acts brilliantly in the show, and the show is a feast for the eyes. Nate, Rufus, Dan, Chuck, Serena, Blair, Lily and Jenny are all absolutely gorgeous.

But I’ve been thinking lately. What if we had a Nilai version of a Gossip Girl blog?

Of course, the blog wouldn’t be called Gossip Girl. No, it’ll be called “Muslimah Menegur”.

Just imagine:


Assalamualaikum, Nilai Students! Muslimah Menegur here, your one and only source to the scandalous lives of UIA Nilai’s elite.

For those lucky biatches (and bast*rds) who’ve already graduated, or aren’t taking short semester, you guys are definitely missing out on the hot and heavy action here. But that’s what I’m here for; to give you the latest and greatest 411 on all the people worth knowing.

SPOTTED:
R and M doing the dirt right outside Kawah Thai. Wasn’t it just last semester that these two lovebirds were at each other’s throats? And what about S? Better watch out, people. I smell a catfight coming. Or in the least, a summons from Ustaz. Meow.

A and D seen sipping pulled tea and iced coffee respectively at CFS café. Now that the high-and-mighty FSCC are planning a mass boycott on CFS café, where will these girls be heading for their morning pick-me-ups? My guess: any café swarming with our delicious brothers. Yummy.

Here's one brother you won't be seeing, though; K has been mysteriously MIA lately. Now why do I get the feeling that his disappearance is connected to the recent crowd of guards – as well as the appearance of the Ustaz himself – outside his dorm? I’m thinking scandal. And you know how much I love scandals.

And who am I? That’s a secret I’ll never tell. The only secret. Send me all the deets.


You know you love me.

Wassalam,
Muslimah Menegur


[CLICK HERE FOR ARABIC TRANSLATION]

PS: Just because I inserted myself in does not mean I believe I am "Nilai's Elite" or whatever crap. It's just easier to make fun of myself rather than having to rack my brains for the latest gossip I've heard, and write it here without getting into trouble.

PPS: I've finished writing "Love" Dilemmas Part/Semester 2. Stay tuned. It's gonna be a looong and detailed entry ;-)

Before you read this, go to Yahoo and search for "UIA Nilai". Then click on the topmost link. Then read what is on that page. Then comment.

Last night, I was furiously trying to complete the subtitles for Pakar Kejelitaan and Sindarella before the clock struck midnight, while barely surviving the air-conditioning in the office that I truly believe is set to the level “Freeze Employees to Death. MUAHAHAha”.

I’d spent from 6pm to 8.30 pm doing subtitles for Pakar Kejelitaan while thinking I’m doing a show that no one who knows me watches. What a waste of time. Then at 8.30 I began with Sindarella, a show I know no one in UIA can watch because the only TV in the whole building will be tuned into 8TV. I know that, because, last week, I had planned to watch Sindarella, grin in glee at my subtitles each time it popped up on the screen (or cringe in horror if I realized I’d made an error that thousands of people in Malaysia just witnessed), and then stand up and bow to everyone once my name appeared for it’s 3 seconds of glory BECAUSE I AM WEIRD THAT WAY. Sadly, that didn’t happen. The girls who beat me to the TV room were watching a Korean drama. *Yawn*

Anyway, all I was thinking was how much I couldn’t wait to finish my work, go home, change into a caftan and watch the latest episode of Gossip Girl that I’d downloaded courtesy of bittorent and tvrss.net. By the way, ladies, Nate is my husband so back off. Oooh I can’t wait to get Aisya to make him in the Sims2 so that I can marry him and have Woohoo with him every day and make beautiful children together!!

And then when I get bored with Nate I’ll ask Aisya to make Rufus so that I can have an affair with him.

But I’m totally digressing from the main topic. So. I suppose you’ve done what I asked you to in the title? No? Then do it.





























Ahaha! Back again, are you? So, how crazy is that?!?! I can’t believe that my blog is at the top of the list for searches on “UIA Nilai”! On Yahoo, that is. It doesn’t work on Google. *glowers at Google* Anyway, I found this out when I was in the office last night, idly searching for UIA Nilai to cure me of my boredom in doing subtitles for a show I’d only watch if I were paid to. But this incident inspired me to write a blog entry.

Imagine this scenario:

Dad and daughter are in front of the family computer.

The Dad: So, honey, have you found anything yet about UIA Nilai?

The Daughter: *snorts* yeah, right. The main website was absolutely full of information prospective students like me are searching for. NOT. There are no pictures of the campus, no description on what our rooms are like, how the facilities are, the clubs they have. It’s a whole load of nothingness hidden behind official niceties.

The Dad: So I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it’s like on the first day of registration.

The Daughter begins to hyperventilate.

The Daughter: Dad! Are you kidding me? Did Rasulullah ever go into battle without prior preparation?! No, he didn’t. He planned. He strategised. He was prepared, and that’s why he was able to emerge victorious. That is, when his own soldiers were paying attention.

The Dad: Honey, I think you’re overreacting –

The Daughter gives The Dad a steely look.

The Daughter: Dad. Rasulullah at least had an army when he conquered Makkah. I don’t have the liberty of amassing one – certainly not until I get into UIA. So among other vital information I would need to conquer UIA is to find out where I can find my army, our living conditions, our sources for survival...

The Dad: We’re still referring to the UIA that is the foundation centre located in Nilai, where you study and get good grades before you move to the main campus in Gombak, aren’t we?

The Daughter: Forget it, you’d never understand. *sighes and rolles her eyes at how oblivious parents can be* I’m gonna try search for UIA Nilai on Yahoo. Who knows? Maybe the unofficial stuff will have more dirt on this place.

The Dad: What is that? The Secret Dreamworld of an Alcoholic? Erm, honey, are you sure you wanna read that?

The Daughter: Bookaholic, Dad, not alcoholic. But it’s at the top of the list. Might as well check it out. And by the way, this is more than enough evidence to point out that you really need to change your specs.

CLICK

The Dad: Oh my. *Takes off glasses, rubs them furiously, and puts them back on*

The Daughter: Yeah, exactly. It’s not gonna be easy to sift through all this stuff for what I need on Nilai UIA.

The Dad: No, look at that. “Love Dilemmas Part/Semester 1”? “My fugly eyebrows”? “Ugly Men”? Oh honey, no, I didn’t want you to click on that one. Okay, LOOK AWAY FROM THE MONITOR

The Daughter: Dad, stop it. I’ve seen worse. Sheesh she writes a lot about being in Nilai, but she doesn’t write concrete stuff that a new general like me would need to know to conquer the place.

The Dad: Honey, I think it’s better if I just send you to a private college.


So I’ve been thinking:

a) I really don’t want people to judge all of UIA students by what I write on my blog

b) Since my blog’s at the top of the list (though I don’t know for how long), I should write a guide for prospective students on what to expect here in Nilai

c) But then again, I don’t really have authority to do that. I mean, who am I, besides the secretary of UIA’s student council (FSCC), the vice president of the Language Awareness Campaign, the vice president of my hisbah, and the sole representative of my hostel?

d) Though, technically, during this short semester, I no longer have the first 2 positions because all extra-curricular activities have been put to a halt. The third position was only during first semester, as obviously I was placed in another hisbah by the 2nd semester. And the 4th position was a one-time thing this semester to help the Residential, Management and Discipline Department handle the whole moving-all-the-girls-and-their-stuff-from-Block D-and-Block E-to-Block C thingy (long story).

e) This is beginning to sound really braggy. Do I come off as sounding braggy? I’m sorry. I will stop now.



PS: I will continue on Love Dilemmas Part/Semester 2, I promise. I haven’t started on it yet, as I’m waiting for the right mood to strike me. Let’s all pray it won’t be 2 months later.

PPS: Writing a guide for prospective students sounds really interesting, but I’m thinking it’ll also be really biased and one-sided, coming from me. So I’m still on the fence on that one.

PPPS: I will also definitely write Poyo vs Poser as there are some anecdotes of my very Poyo classmate that are practically begging to be shared to the rest of the world. And I have quite a lot of stuff to say about Poser. Erm, hello, I come from Taman Tun? The land where Posers are born, bred and continue breeding?

***Edited on May 18th 2008: It works on Google too, now! Rejoice! :-D***

“Love” dilemmas, Part/Semester 1

When I first stepped into UIA almost one year ago, the air was practically buzzing with the anticipation, excitement, and dreams of thousands of new students. I bet everyone had already made mental checklists on what they would achieve here in UIA, such as being best student, getting Dean’s List, snagging a top position in a club or society.

I entered UIA with a slightly different checklist. I mean, yeah, I had the usual ambitions and dreams that any other new UIA student would have, including to make up my mistake of being a social outcast in school. But I don’t think many had this particular dream in mind: finding a future husband from the Pre-Medicine programme. Yeah, pretty far-fetched, I know. Why Pre-Medicine, you ask? Well, that’s because I already had a list of criteria for my future husband. He has to be:

a) Islamic. Well, at least more than me. If I marry someone who has less Islamic values than even me, only God knows how our children will turn out.
b) Intelligent. Brains are really important. And obviously someone who takes Pre-Medicine has that ;-)
c) Have leadership qualities. I am totally attracted to a guy who takes the lead. *smiles dreamily* So this rules out guys who are too quiet, shy or passive. Because that’s my role!
d) Busy. With work, I mean, so that he won’t be clingy to me, or need me all the time. Because I am actually an independent person, so I’d like to have my own space, thank you very much. And who’s busier than a doctor? ;-)
e) A non-smoker. No if’s and but’s about that. CANNOT STAND MEN WHO SMOKE. Not only is the smell of cigarette smoke disgusting, but a smoker is someone who caves into pressure, follows the crowd, and doesn’t care that he’s endangering his life and the others around him. Yuck!


And then there’s the special bonus list:
a) Can converse fluently in English. English is my first language, and communication is key in a relationship. I can speak BM of course, but I can express myself better in English. Obviously.
b) Likes to read. Reading is my passion, and it’s rare nowadays to find guys who enjoy reading
c) Likes cats. Because if there’s one thing I’m sure about my future, it’s that there will be cats in it.



And that’s it. I know, I know, it’s a bit demanding, especially from a girl who certainly isn’t hot, smart or special enough to be so darn picky. Plus, this was coming from a girl, who, before coming into UIA, had never had a conversation with a guy before, never mind dated one. Ambitious much?

My quest to locate a future husband in Pre-Medic certainly didn’t begin in an auspicious manner. The first two Medic guys I had my eye on ( Guy #1 and Guy #2 were cute, funny, English-speaking, definite leader-types) turned out to already have girlfriends. I remember, clearly, how I whispered to my friend Manal “my hopes are crushed!” when I discovered this.

Oh well, I thought at the time. It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected that tiny setback. Of course prettier, smarter, more confident girls would get their claws in guys I found attractive. Me? I was nobody here in UIA. And I could accept that, as I’d been nobody throughout all my years of school.

The pain of singlehood began to hit me, however, when my roommate Nany began telling all about how some of the kids in her class had already hooked up with each other. My jaw dropped when I heard this. Already?? These kids barely new each other for a month, and they’d found themselves a special someone. I was eighteen years old, and yet not one person of the opposite gender had expressed any interest in me. Ouch! Feeling depressed, unattractive and unloved, I sent a text message to my sister Aisya so that she would console me. And she did, in her own way, saying something along the lines of how I’d soon find someone as I’m “not exactly buruk gila babun”.

Very soon, however, I learned to appreciate my singlehood – when a person I barely knew expressed his love to me. Guy #3 certainly seemed like a nice guy, but he definitely committed a major mistake by not giving me time to get to know him first before expressing his feelings.

He was the first guy to do that to me, but certainly not the last.

Later on, I soon made fast friends with a guy who wasn’t exactly taking Pre-Medic, but something like it. Guy #4 and I would text each other late at night till around 4 am about the most ridiculous things. I slowly began to fancy him, because he was smart, hilariously funny, and was a leader in his own way, too. Finally, he asked me out to dinner, we had a blast, and all seemed great.

Until I found out he had a girlfriend. And she wasn’t happy that we went out together. Yikes! And I’m sure, if you’ve read my previous post, that you’ve guessed that it was Guy #4 who told me I’d “get over it” when I confessed to him that I liked him, and that I was going to back off because he already had a girl.

At the same time, a guy who wasn’t taking anything remotely like pre-Medic, smoked, partied, and informed me that he was destined to be “ahli neraka” became close friends with me. Right from the start I knew Guy #5 was not my type, and told him so, many times. We had a very comfortable, close friendship – always teasing and insulting each other, sometimes arguing, always confiding.

So you can imagine how completely staggered I was when, after around 4 months of knowing Guy #5, on the night before my Arabic exam, he asked me to be his girlfriend out of the blue. I kept thinking, no, no no! He accepted my rejection gracefully. Despite that night, we were still able to continue being close friends.

But, unsurprisingly, it resulted in me failing my Arabic exam.

Last but not least, there was another guy who I’d made close friends with. Guy #6 seemed nice, friendly, extremely intelligent, funny, and he’d shower me with attention. A bit too much, actually, to the point that he’d call and message every day. And if I turned down his invitations to go out, or not reply his messages, he started complaining I was always too busy for him. We argued when I said I needed space, resulting in him telling me he deserved to be at the top of my “list of friends”, and that I wasn’t making enough effort for our friendship to work. Freaky, much? We apologised in the end, and I would’ve forgiven him completely, if he hadn’t asked me to check out his latest blog post. So I did. Words can’t describe how I felt when I read everything he wrote about me. Swear words, misinterpretation of what I had tried to say, his “challenge” to me to find another guy who’d treat me as well as he did. He even included my real name, so whoever googles “Anisah Shurfa” will now stumble across his blog and think I’m some crazy, mean bitch. Fantastic – exactly what I wanted. I looked through his archives, and was even more freaked out. Declarations of love to me? What had I gotten myself into?

And that was how I ended semester 1

PS: My Guide to Guys was completely based on my experience with Guy #6. He did everything I listed down, except for number 1. You can read his rebuttal of my guide here.

PPS: Stay tuned for Part/Semester 2. What’s in store: a friendship that lasted for four months, but didn’t survive even one month when it evolved into a relationship, and one rather creepy (but sweet in a creepy way) stalker.

PPPS: I realise I haven’t touched upon MUET or poyos and posers, and I didn’t wait for 2 more months to update. Does that mean I’m back for good? We’ll see.

Inspiration strikes!!

It’s been, what, 2 months since my last update?? The thing about blogging is that, the less frequently you update, the more it no longer seems desirable to you (or me, in case it’s not the case for you ;-) ) to blog cuz so many things have occurred in your life since you last blog that, if something really major happens to you suddenly that you want to blog about, you have to tell the story all the way from the beginning of the whole saga, which was probably months ago and so stale that you just can’t be bothered.

Am I making sense? Probably not.

Anyway, I’d probably have left this blog to rot for a few more months, if it’s not for the fact that today, two girls in UIA – one whom I haven’t seen in months cuz she graduated last semester, and one whom I’ve never met till today – both said to me separately: “eh, you haven’t blogged in a long time, have you, Anisah?”

Totally random and unexpected. I blinked, and replied, ‘Weh, you read my blog?’ to both times those questions were posed at me. Because I believed – and still believe – that only super-nice people like Munira Hamzah [LOVE YOU MUMU] and Woozie (LOVE YOU WOOZIE-WOOZIE!!) and Hamizah [LOVE YOU MIZA] and those who randomly pop up and leave comments (LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH) read my blog.

Of course, quite a few things happened after I found out I had free wifi in Nilai:

1) My semester ended and I went back home.

As usual, when semester ends, I can never feel bothered to pack, bid goodbye to everyone, and go home. Heck, during my first semester, me and my roommate Manal Lutfi randomly made up our minds to stay one extra day on campus just for the fun of it. So when I arrived home last semester, I didn’t even unpack. I just left all my clothes in the huge luggage bag I kept in the study room, and took out whatever I wanted to wear for the day.

2) Three days later, I went to Aceh, Indonesia, to help out the orphans there

I went there with the rest of FSCC. At first I REALLY didn’t want to go because I was thinking, oh my GOD, spending 10 days with a bunch of people I’ve worked with for 2 sems but have never learned to like (except for one or two)? BUT turns out that going was the best thing that happened to me. After 8 months, it took a trip to a foreign country for me to realize that these people were really nice and funny. Albeit slightly skema. (But the addition of a few subcommittee and members of the Pioneer Club balanced out the skemaness).

The orphans were cute. [Syahirah Zain, who is next to me right now, demands that I mention she’s also cute]

From left to right: The Super Nice Munira Hamzah, The Blogger Herself Anisah Shurfa, The Cuter Than Indonesian Orphans Syahirah Zain, and, at the back, The Guy Whom We Affectionately Call “Mimi” Even Though He Isn’t Effeminate Fahmy.

3) 10 days later, I returned home

I didn’t unpack

4) 2 days later, I finally found the guts to go online and see my exam results

Got 3.334. Not exactly Dean’s List, but hey! At least I improved from the first semester. I think that’s because I didn’t fail anything this time around. I’m so proud.

Creative & Critical Thinking: A (Easiest subject ever. Period)
Psychology: A- (I expected B, so this was a pleasant surprise)
Basic Themes of Al Quran : A- (amazing, considering I failed my midsem exam; 9.5/20)
Basic Research Methods and Report Writing: B+ (I expected an A-, so this was upsetting. I blame my carry marks. Which means I blame my lousy group that I worked with on the assignment)
Arabic: B+!!!
Intro to Islamic Revealed Knowledge: B
Contemporary Issues in the Muslim World: C+ (Thought I’d fail this one, as I didn’t send in an assignment, didn’t really like my lecturer, and found the notes SO BORING)

5) One week later, my semester began

Technically, I wouldn’t even have to take this extra, two-month semester here in The Land of NILAI Yang Kurang BerNilai if it wasn’t for the fact that I failed my Arabic in the first semester. Hahaha! YES I FAILED ARABIC AND I’M REPEATING IT AND NOW EVERYONE KNOWS SO NOW I WON’T HAVE TO FIELD QUESTIONS IN WHICH PEOPLE ASK ME ‘HEY HOW COME YOU’RE STILL IN NILAI WEREN’T YOU EXEMPTED IN ENGLISH WHICH MEANS YOU ONLY HAVE TO TAKE 2 SEMESTERS?? WAIT, *GASP* DID YOU HAVE TO REPEAT A SUBJECT?!?!”

6) At the end of that first week, I got my heart broken

By a really close friend who didn’t realize he’d done anything wrong. So I decided spontaneously to stay in Nilai for the weekend to lick my wounds. By the end of the weekend, my heart mended again (Hurrah!)

[Syahirah Zain, who is still beside me, insists I inform the world that she is cuter now]

Munira, I and the Indonesian orphans behind us are blinded by Syahirah Zain’s cuteness.

7) I read Jodi Picoult's books: Keeping Faith and Nineteenth Circle

(warning: mini book reviews ahead. If not interested, please proceed to no. 8)

both borrowed from Izzati Rahman, btw, as I have barely enough money to spend on food (Strangely, it's only when I'm desperately broke that I run out of contact lens, makeup and other pricy essentials that I cannot survive without)

Keeping Faith was really riveting. My complaints about Jodi Picoult books is that it's more contemplative and thought-provoking than plot-advancing, which of course is really interesting to read, but can feel quite draggy at times. This problem struck Nineteenth Circle as well as My Sister's Keeper for me, but not Keeping Faith. Keeping Faith was as action-packed as it was thought-provoking, and I actually found the lead male to be likeable. The premise itself was interesting: What if your child claimed she talked to God, and proves it many times? Of course, if the characters were all Muslim and this child was claiming she was speaking to Allah, then I'd scream "blasphemy!". But as they're not, and the God she was talking to was of the Christian variety, it just felt like a good story to me. I didn't feel the book wrapped up the whole controversy for me well, but I think that's just one of Jodi Picoult's glaring failures: she writes about people who get tangled in an extraordinary situation, what branched from that situation and how they deal with the branch, but she never satisfactorily concludes on how the extraordinary situation itself is wrapped up.

Nineteenth Circle started off really well, but most of the flashback scenes dragged it down. Sometimes, I found myself thinking "is this scene necessary? SKIP!" and just skimmed through the paragraphs so that I could get to the part where the plot was moving. It moved eventually, but grudgingly so, like a huge boulder trundling slowly off a cliff, it's pathway obstructed by long weeds, antelopes, and other red herrings. Worse, I couldn't feel empathy for any of the characters, except Peter, the main character who gets bullied so much by his peers that, one day, he goes to school and starts shooting everyone. Sounds interesting? It is. But by page, I dunno, 400, I was getting bored, with still almost 200 pages to go. By page 449, I had skipped right to the ending.

8) Today, in my third week in Nilai, I did my MUET exam

Still reeling over how horribly I did in the individual presentation.

***

So that’s been my life so far, while I’ve been hiatus on my blog. More updates afterwards! (hopefully). Later, folks!

PS: Totally random thing that popped into my head: I’ve only admitted my feelings to three guys in my life. The first guy said “That’s okay, you’ll get over it”. The second guy said “baby you make me so happy” and dumped me a month later. The third guy said “Darling, I think I like you too… but I’m going to pursue a relationship with that other girl I told you about the other day, ok?”

PPS: Which brings me to the conclusion that I will die an old, bitter, slightly mad virgin prude with 28 cats.

PPPS: My next blog entry will either be about my horrible MUET speaking exam, or the subtle art of differentiating between Poyo and Poser, complete with real-life examples, or I won’t update at all till another 2 months. Dial 1800-MYLIFESUX2 to vote!