ISSUE Magazine

Over the years, my inner hulk by Khayriyyah Mohd Hanafiah

oktbur 19-90 (at 5 years)

Der Dairy,  

Nur haz My Little Pony Wanna Have Fun. I wont won tu. Dad sez Mayb if u bhav. I m hepi becuz mom bot KFC for diner. But zaki got de big drumstik n I onli got de lilt drumstik is not fer so i krid so mom let me finus de mas puttees n zaki krid so i had to sur it. Dad sez nex time buy dem hol ciken! If day dun finus den day wul gedit….

5 October 1995 (at 10 years)

Dear Diary, 

Today at school in music class we played the recorder. I played better than anyone in the class Dr Armstrong said so because she patted my shoulder. She said we will put on a show for Parent Teacher Day and we have to practice practice practice. I want to be the singer but Jenna Portinga took the mike and started singing Amazing Grace. She is a foney. But her mother is an Oprah singer so she will sing. I wish my mother is an Oprah singer. 

For Jenna Portinga’s birthday we (me, Miranda and Amanda) will watch Lion King at the movies. Then we will go to Dairy Queen for a bucket of ice cream. We only had cake and candles at home for my birthday. It was chocolate cake but I wanted ice cream cake. Miranda is my best friend. We both hate Jenna Portinga. But Jenna has a ginny pig called Sniffls and it is so cute! I wish I had a ginny pig.

5/10/2000 (at 15 years)

Yo Diary, 

Like, some people are so lucky they get everything they want without lifting a finger! The boys are always like having lots of fun and running around in class but they always get good grades! Anyway, I am just grateful that I got 8As for my trial — phew! It would be worst if I studied so hard and did not EVEN get 8As.

Anyway, 501 and I will go to the mall after PMR. It will be a BLAST!! I don’t know what to wear, and I don’t want to look like a big dork. Anyway, Zaza will lend me something if she thinks what I am wearing is like terrible. She is my bestest friend! But I want to tell you…the other day we both entered like an essay writing competition and I got first place, but Zaza got second place and she said “Congratulations.” but I think she was a bit upset with me. 

Actually, I knew she was upset with me because she wrote something about feeling jealous that I got first place and she let everyone else in the gang read it and they all said it was so saaaaad until I FINALLY got to read it myself and it was actually sad. After I read it I wanted to write something that was really sad too so I wrote a story about a little girl from Bosnia who lost her family and it was so sad I cried and everyone in the gang cried too. 

Anyway, I have to go and call Zaza now. Peace out!

5 Oct 2005 (at 20 years)

Dear Journal, 

Does it sound more sophisticated to call you Journal? I don’t know. I have been reading older entries and have been getting embarrassed all by myself. I have a feeling this will embarrass future me too, oh well what to do. (Hey that rhymes!) 

So… I’m in my first year at UIA now. It is now the proverbial spring and love is in the air all around. It’s getting annoying that everyone around me is with someone. I really am perfectly happy being by myself, I am! Until a couple sits next to me and start PDA-ing like crazy. Where are the UIA guards when you need them. PDA should be illegal. Or is it already? 

There are some couples that are not completely unbearable though. People tell me they are the ones that will probably last, whereas all these madly in love blind and deaf to the world couples will crash and burn. That gives a mild sense of pleasure — to know ahead of them that they are destined for doom. But even then, it would be nice to know how it feels like even for a little while… I can’t imagine. I was talking to Lo about this, about love and the difference of being with the one and being with anyone and he kept on making weird comments about it. He’s so strange like that… I think I had a dream about him. Oh shit I hope I am not getting a crush on him! Sigh. I wish I looked like Zaza sometimes. The boys can’t help but go to her like flies to the light.

5 October 2012 (at 27 years)

-Private blog entry-

My embarrassing admission is…I am a rather envious person. I don’t mind that my husband still salivates over Rachel Weisz (as long as he doesn’t overdo it), and I don’t think “Bitch” when I see pictures of someone that has lost a lot of weight. (okay I do get a BIT annoyed depending on the time of the month– but generally it is amusement more than annoyance) 

What I DO automatically feel BAD about is when someone else has received something I want. I get an impulse to show these people up– especially when these are people a) I don’t like, b) I don’t like, but don’t know why, c) I think don’t deserve it. (Note: this is why I no longer keep a Facebook account. The temptation to look at what people are doing and then retaliate by posting pics of my own awesome life is too strong!)

Showing people up is rather hard to do when you are me, and don’t have that much to show up WITH– and I never was comfortable with blatant show upping offiness. 

What I do do (hehe dudu) is: covertly find and expose any hidden flaws behind the ‘shiny’ thing that I am envious over (read: the purchase of a new house, the acceptance of a paper in a journal, the acceptance to a great famous grad school) — and when I find the hidden flaw that I found after considerable semi-psychotic sleuthing, I will go Ahah! (the house is on tanah lombong! or the journal has no impact factor! the school is in the midwest!) I’m not so envious anymore. 

Lately, I have also been struck by a most unbecoming envy of pregnant women. I realistically know that I do not want babies yet, not even after being married for almost three years. But that brush with the possibility, and then losing it… made me long for that next phase in life that has eluded me. Especially when I hear of a couple my age expecting. As the song goes, first comes love, then comes marriage…and here I wait for my baby carriage.

Image is “Things Hippo wants but can’t have” by Khayriyyah Mohd Hanafiah

20120205_134539

 

Khayriyyah‘s inner hulk blows up red.

Advertisements
This entry was written by Khayriyyah Mohd Hanafiah and published on 14/12/2012 at 16:05. It’s filed under ISSUE7, Khayriyyah Mohd Hanafiah, Memoir, Writings and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: