“Babi sial!” Pronounced “ bah-bee, cee-ahl!”, it literally means foul pig in Malay. I was muttering this under my breath as I try to clean the grime stuck onto the microwave walls and on the kitchen hob. Girls, just because you love a guy and he loves you back doesn’t mean a happy marriage. The question is, can you LIVE with him, under one roof, for rest of your life?
For those of you who missed it, I live with four other guys. All postgraduate students. Two Brits, one Polish, one Chinese. We get together along quite well, probably also because most of us are out most of the day and spend the remaining time home doing our own things in our rooms. Before I came to UK, my mother would boast as having the messiest daughter around (beaten only by one of my neighbours back then) but since I moved into where I’m living now, the mess they create puts mine to shame.
There will be stacks of dirty pots and pans standing next to the sink. There are bits of burnt food underneath the hob. There is washing powder everywhere around the wash machine, and unless I do the occasional sweeping the hallway and the stairway is absolutely dusty. From one of my previous post, Mambang Unplugged, I described how I ‘exorcised’ the filth from the bathroom. Recently a stern warning from the water company came in through the post for a way overdue water bills (then I just realised the rent wasn’t inclusive of the utilities, except the internet). Since then I’ve been in charge of collecting the money and paying the bills. Watch it guys! I’ll turn into a witch if you don’t do as I say! ABRACADABRAAA!!!!
Putting all the dirt, and grime, and filth aside, having guys as your house mates (especially when you’re a girl) does have it perks. For example, one night on the way back from university I happened to bump into one of my not-so-secret admirer, which I would prefer to avoid, at all cost. At that time I was sitting in the bus with my Polish house mate. After a curt exchange of “How are you? I’m doing good, blah blah blah” I turned to my house mate and pretended to discuss something about physics and maths and coursework stress. The not-so-secret admirer also happened to get off at the same stop as I did, and better still, he lived near where I live. Kudos to some quick thinking of the brain, I held my Polish house mate’s hand and started talking about dinner. This made the not-so-secret admirer think we were together and left us alone. Mission accomplished.
Quite some time ago I accidentally left behind a panty in the washing machine and it was a rather awkward moment when my Chinese house mate tried to point it out by saying “I left my laundry in the wash machine”. Good Lord, get the courage to say “PANTY” or “unmentionables” at least. To say “underwear” isn’t that difficult either, isn’t it?