The feeling of walking into my own apartment is phantasmagoric. It is everything I ever dreamt of. The kitchen is all white, giving the illusion that everything is spotless even when it is not. I only have to clean the kitchen when the white begins to look a little too colourful. I love it! The bathroom walls are covered in hundreds if not thousands of tiny teal glazed ceramic tiles. Giving it that artic feel. You know, the one when you step outside and it's frezzing cold and the cold air stings your nose. Yes, that kind. My favourite part of the bathroom are the words on the top right corner of the mirror reading
"I hate three things:
1.vandalism
2.irony
3.lists "
It must be some wise words from the previous tenant. It seems to be written in glyceride, pyrrolidone, resin and a touch of colorant because I can't seem get it off. Oh well, something to make me smile everyday when I look in the mirror. That's if it does not lose it's effect on me within the next few days from seeing it too often. I should probably call the land lord and complain about this. Who knows, it might just get me a discount on my monthly rent. I get that I am not the one paying for the apartment and all but hey I am a woman, complaining is kind of my thing. It is one of the thing us woman are good at, so I might as well make use of my skills. No one complains better than a woman and no one can argue with that. Unless it's a woman who is super hungry and on her monthly cycle. Than yes, a woman like that can complain better than your basic daily formula woman. My bedroom needs some personalisation. The walls are pantone in colour. Way too dull for my liking. I should probably add some pictures to give it some life. The rest however, I can live with for now. I unpack all my suitcases and get ready for bed. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.My alarm beeps for the hundredth time and I turn it off...AGAIN. I am soon awoken by the thought that my hours of sleep feel mysteriously unusual and decide to check the time on my phone. Crap! It's past eleven and I'm still in bed. Now I'm going to have to take the twelve thirty train, just great! I jump into the shower and wash off the guilt from a bad tendency of abusing the snooze button. I throw on a pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top, make myself a cup of green tee and have some quiet time before I begin the day's activities.
I hate taking the train. I know I am not the most immaculate person on the face of the earth, but would it kill to get the train cleaned on a regular basis. I can't stand the sight of stains on the handles and sticky floors, it's nasty! This just makes me eager to get my own car. On the train are some shifty looking men, so I tighten my grip on my sling bag. I hope I don't look as vulnerable as I feel. I reach the city center and it is crowded. I should have woken up the first time my alarm went off. I make my way to @Home where I know I will find the finest quality of household equipment. After all I do have to use these utensils for the next four years, or at least until I graduate. By the end of the day all I walk out with is kitchen wear and bed sheets. I'll look for the rest another day. I am surprised its only five o'clock now considering how I was just distracted by the temptation to purchase things i want but don't need. But this time I stood strong in my solidarity. I resisted most of the items in the shop the way those stout people on those TV shows attempt to resist the food that made them that way in the first place. They throw the food into the garbage can just to go and retrieve it in the middle of the night when they think no one is looking. It's simultaneously hysterical but doleful. The amount of self control is so derisory. Just like mine was a few minutes ago. I could not help but purchase the pen holder shaped in the form of a pug. It was marked down by seventy five percent. It just cost me twenty five rand. Gosh! I am just as insubstantial as those fat people on the TV shows. I am no better. I am even trying to convince myself that it was OK to buy the pug pen holder just because it was marked down. They often give those stout people TV show names like "Heavier after birth" or "Blame it on the beer". If they were to come up with a name for me right now, it would probably be something like "Oniomania attack got her again". I will snivel my delinquency away tonight after I fill my new pug pen holder with the pack of new colour pens I purchased to fill the pen holder.
I arrive at my new home. I giggle at the thought of the word "my". It still sounds so peculiar. I unpack all the items and head back to the city center to meet up with my favorite cousin who just happens to be ten years older than me, successful and in a relationship with her best friend. And than there's me *sigh* I guess opposites do really attract. Besides my shortcomings I guess we do have other things in common. She likes baking, I am better at it. She is an introvert. I am an embivert. She thinks she knows everything, I allow her feel smart all the time. The perfect combination.
As I walk into Jonno's bistro I see her waving at me from the far left corner of the dinky café. Despite the size of the café it is quite fetching. I am elated to see her. As usual her leech of a boyfriend Felix is with her. He always seems to be glued to her hip, sometimes to other places as well. Like her tongue and even her thighs, but that's not the point. The point is that he is a loving boyfriend who likes to touch her. It's like she's his pussy cat. I take a seat opposite from Jen. Me being me I choose ignore the male figure with them at the table and begin talking to Jen.
Frank: I'm Frank
Says the dark haired man seated at the table who now appears to have a name. He half smiles and extends his hand towards me.
Me: I'm Dalia, pleased to meet you.
Although I don't mean what I say I return his kind gesture.
Jen and I catch up on the few months that we haven't seen each other. I can't help but feel as Frank's eyes are fixed on me most of the afternoon. It's a little of creepy, but I choose to stay quiet. After a nice time at Jonno's we say our goodbyes and conclude the evening.
This morning I outrun my alarm clock and wake up before it goes off. The excitement of my first day at varsity is immense. I take a shower, get dressed and head for the door. I literally skip to the train station and make it to UCT (The University of Cape Town) with an hour to spare before orientation commences. I look around the numerous buildings that surround me to pass the time and familiarize myself. As I approach the commerce building I see Frank and make a quick u-turn in the hopes that he didn't see me.
Frank: Dalia!
A deep voice calls from behind me and I freeze. Slowly I turn around. Great! He saw me. My mind utters. I fake a smile and look at him.
Frank: It's Dalia right?
His smile so bright and big it almost consumes his entire philtrum.
Me: Aha. Sorry, I can't remember your name. I'm bad with names
I force my fake smile even further.
Frank: It's Frank
Me: Oh yeah Frank!
I pretend to recall.
Frank: So what are you doing here?
Me: Today is my first day here. I'll be studying here
Frank: Are you ready for orientation?
he says with a sly smirk on his face
Me: Yeah, I am actually really excited
I say gleefully.
Frank: You shouldn't be
He walks away in the opposite direction and somehow i can hear the smirk on his face and wonder why he would say that.
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YOU ARE READING
Fighting you in me
HumorDalia is a first year student at the university of Cape Town. A time she has given up her teenage years for. She has it all figured out...or so she thinks. Being the perfectionist she is.Until her first semester kicks off and sways her from a future...