This morning marked my first day of school. As cliché as this may sound, time really flies. There goes my 5 weeks of vacation and it’s back to school for me all over again. I was emotional last night and I kept telling my boyfriend how scared I was. I had everything I wanted to wear laid out perfectly on my bed, even though I intended to dress down. Just a pair of good ol' jeans and a tank top complete with my vans. I even got up on time when I only had 3 hours of sleep.
I persuaded my sister to send me to school because my little princess fat ass didn’t want to take the public transport early in the morning. I didn’t want to be late even a minute. I was having those usual beginning term jitters I always get. Am I going to ace my classes? Am I going to have a good time with this class? Will the workload overwhelm me? I've already spent the morning going through each of my classes online individually and extensively to see what’s expected of me. I was just very afraid how I would do.
With anxiety on one hand and fear on the other, I reached for the door knob, opening it slowly. “Expect the worst and hope for the best,” I told myself. As I entered the room, everyone’s eyes were on me. I took a quick glanced at these unfamiliar faces and my instincts led me to one of the tables next to a young lady who had a painted smile on her face. She’s actually my classmate last semester. A very hardworking one, indeed. The facilitator shook my hand as she introduced herself as Jasmine and I really like her the second she said "Nice to meet you,Nadiah!" She definitely have a very cheerful personality which I truly adore!
I had to move over to another table which I was assigned to and I was glad that I could communicate well with my team members. To begin her lesson, the facilitator made us introduced ourselves. I thanked god there was no ice breakers! I spoke with utter confidence as I introduced myself to the whole class. I was really amazed with myself for being very responsive to everything she asked and volunteering whenever there’s an opportunity. Ah, I sure as hell managed to convince myself that everything will be okay, and all I had in mind were happy thoughts.
“Ohh? You’re a malay...” a girl of the same race whispered next to me as she was looking at the class roster page on her screen.
“Umm, yes. What do you think?” I raised one of my eyebrows and assumed she was going to say that I look like a Chinese, like most people thought I was.
“I thought you’re Eurasian,” she giggled shyly.
I laughed. No doubt it was not my face features that make me look like one, that’s for sure. When asked, she said it was the way I talk. Don’t get me wrong readers; I don’t speak with an American slang. (Well maybe a little bit of the attitude if you get to know me well enough) But I do avoid using Singlish as best as i can when talking to a large group of people especially when the facilitator is around. Perhaps she was just comparing my language with hers because she mentioned about how bad her English is. But you know, it’s just very nice to know somebody thinks that your spoken English is great (even though I hate reading books!) My boyfriend’s a really smart guy, especially his languages. They are perfection to my ears. Definitely, he’s the biggest influence on me.
“Ah, what a good start of the new beginning!” I heard them uttered.
Damn right, it is. And it’s time to step up my game.
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