Utter Disdain

Blind hatred isn’t something I run into everyday.

Except at the most unexpected times, like holidays and birthdays and really, any event including my family.

Where does this hatred derive from?

NIECES.

I have two darling nieces, whom I love extremely. However, the oldest has gotten to the age where it is hilarious to show undying disdain for her youngest aunt. For no apparent reason.

Upon arrival, I was told during the car ride over Annabelle had announced to her parents:

“No hug aunt Rissa”

To which her mother (on my behalf) responded “but that’ll make aunt Rissa sad!” which was answered with what I’m sure was diabolical-little-girl-giggles.

Once arrived, Annabelle had no desire to see me, and in fact, only spoke to me in order to ask me: “Where Garrett?” (WHY DOES HE HAVE A HIGHER RANKING THAN ME?!)

BUT.

Luckily, I have another niece to give me all the love and attention I desire. And once I got my hands on her she made her love known. By passing her bodily functions on me. Four times.

I tell you all this to say: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you all find someone that loves you enough to openly disdain your very existence and will pass gas on you when you least expect it.

Because, let’s be real, that’s one of the best things in life—The God-given blessing of a family.  

Aka: The ability to fart on someone and turn around and have them love you anyway. 

Sometimes, Cheaters DO Prosper

Growing up I continually heard the phrase cheaters never prosper, as I’m sure many of you have also. Usually I was told this by teachers in order to guilt trip me into doing my own work, or studying without writing anything on my desk.

Now I’ll be honest I still did the occasional ‘write everything I possibly could in minuscule writing on my desk or hand’. But for the most part, I agreed, cheating doesn’t actually help—it may have instant gratification, but in the long run it’ll do more harm than good.

Be that as it may, I’m more than happy to use my cheating skills when it comes to several things:

            -board games

            -ping pong

            -and when it comes to free stuff

Wayne has been having a bi-weekly event called Willy Wednesdays, these include a variety of free stuff for no apparent reason other than the desire to use our student dues in very strange ways. I have gotten a fake tattoo, ice cream, and photobooth photos. Along with these, every two weeks since mid-October there has been a new question posted at the information desk in the student center. Students can put in an answer with their name and number—with the potential of getting FREE STUFF.

Yesterday I read the question:

What Christmas song was actually written for Thanksgiving?

I guessed several times, until I was told Jingle Bells was the correct answer. So. I went over to the box. Wrote my answer, name, and number and popped that puppy into the guessing box.

Then I repeated this action six more times.

Today, after returning from class I had a voicemail, telling me that I had WON A FREE TSHIRT AND COULD PICK IT UP IN THE STUDENT CENTER.

So basically this entire post was meant for me to brag about my new We Are Wayne State t-shirt, and so I can proudly say:

Sometimes, Cheaters DO Prosper.

Long time no blog!

Holy Cow, so! Long time no blog eh?

And the sad little doo dad is I’ve been meaning to start writing again for weeks; I just keep finding excuses not to. These excuses fall into one of three categories generally:

1)   Sleeping

2)   Tumblr

3)   Netflix

Pretty sour reasoning really.

So my pretties, I Marissa K Watson will now indubitably begin posting on the regular, my time of laziness will cease! I promise!

But since I currently don’t have anything to say and am sitting in the middle of the library reading Cinderella variations for an essay I will just say; happy Friday, and November! IT’S BASICALLY CHRISTMAS SEASON IF WE DIDN’T HAVE THANKSGIVING. So smile! And have a wonderful day.

xoxo Cashier Girl

Oh my goodness it has been awhile! But I mean, I have a legitimate excuse here: summer! 

Now I know, you’ll be straight to wonder at the 'party life' of such a popular gal like me. 

Well, life took an unexpected turn this summer (Like life often seems to do) And instead of going on a big adventure to someplace new, or sitting around and being lazy—I got a job. A full time working position—

Oh my gosh marissaaaa whatttttt whereeee ewwwww

At:

WALLY WORLD

Now, to anyone who has never worked at a job like this—I highly suggest it, you’ll learn a lot! And I say that with total sincerity. I learned so much about people, about myself, and most importantly through those things—about God. (If you want to be amazed by His grace—be a cashier on a Saturday afternoon; anyone can give grace when people are on their best behavior, but seriously, God has some serious patience with people.)

There are too many stories to share about this place, but for now I think I’ll just point out some of the prominent things I learned:

1.     As a cashier, customers will never be impressed with your speed, no, it doesn’t matter you just checked 120 items in the span of two minutes, you should’ve have done it in one.

2.     Also, (and this one hits home folks) No one is impressed with my ability to take a scanner gun and aim and shoot without having to swipe the beam over a barcode, and get it every time—seriously, I don’t understand why there’s no applause.

3.     As I’m not yet 19, I can’t sell alcohol, and people seem to take it as a personal offence when they have to wait for a manager to check them—I’m sorry I was not born at the correct time—talk to my parents.

4.     Wally world has brainwashed me (another thing people don’t find impressive is that your cashier has literally memorized the codes for the entire produce section) What’s that you say? A banana? NO it’s a 4011! Seriously—test me on it.

5.     It is never okay to hit on your cashier. It’s literally the creepiest thing you could possibly do—I don’t care if you’re a model, it’s creepy.

6.     That being said—It’s also not okay to be mean, when we ask you, how are you? Ignoring us isn’t a super awesome game plan.

7.     DO NOT THROW YOUR ITEMS AT RANDOM ONTO THE BELT. It makes it so much harder to bag things when we have to organize it too—and it takes a lot longer.

8.     Don’t spin the bag thingy while I’m putting stuff in bags, I think I’ve been close to getting my hands ripped off a couple of times.

9.     Employees are very keen on their break times, if a break is 12 minutes late you can bet to hear mutinying in the break room. VIVA LA BREAK TIME.

10.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m at Wal-Mart, or a candid employee on The Office. That’s how dramatic it can be.

Now saying all of that, I have truly enjoyed my time working this summer, the people I met and got the chance to work with are some of the kindest people I’ve ever met in my life—and it was truly a blessing in disguise.

Xoxo

Cashier Girl.

The Monster Under the (my) Bed

I feel we all have those fears, those things that haunt us in the wee hours of the morning, that give us nightmares on those dreary nights; the creaks in an empty house, that person on the sidewalk at 10 at night…the theme song to the Walking Dead…

For me personally I’ve always had this immense fear of something being under my bed. I know, that seems really stupid, but when it’s lights out at home I’ve perfected the click the lights, run, and launch myself across my room onto the safety of my bed; at college it’s much easier seeing as I live in a closet and all my light switches are within arms reach!

Now I tell you all this for a reason.

The other day my worst nightmare came true.

On Monday evening I was in my friend’s room when this happened:

G-swag: Where art thou?

Mdawg: In Justine’s room!

G-swag: I was going to your room…

Mdawg: I’ll come up in a second!

G-swag: where are youuuuu

Mdawg: I’m literally sitting on my bed looking at sloth pictures.

G-swag: I can’t find youuuuuu

Now, this isn’t out of the norm for us, we’re super good at texting vague unhelpful things.

Stick with me here.

When I got his text I went on up to my room and sat on my bed, turned on some country music and googled baby sloth pictures. Totally normal. 

Until.

Out of the corner of my eye I see movement.

And suddenly Garrett’s head pops out from under my bed.

It’s been about 4 ½ minutes since I got to my room.

I screamed bloody murder, ran out of my room, collapsed on the ground because my emotions were everywhere—on one hand I was laughing hysterically, on the other my heart was racing from terror mingled with surprise. I then proceeded to run back to my room where I found him sitting peacefully on my bed, call him a creeper, and run downstairs to tell my friends what had happened.

Once I had composed myself enough to face him again I had one important question:

What all did you hear?

I ask this because you see dear reader; I talk to myself when I’m alone. I think that’s totally normal, however when I’m looking at cute baby sloths I also giggle like a 5 year old, and on top of that I say things like “ooohhh babyyyy slothhhhh” and “silly baby sloth” and to top that off I’m singing along to Downtown by Lady Antebellum, which is currently my jam—so I sing passionately…

Well, Garrett heard every little bit, he realized it was probably not his best idea when I clearly had no knowledge of him being there, and that I was probably going to completely freak out—which I did.

So all in all, in a round about way, I suppose I’m saying my fear of things under the bed isn’t totally justified, I mean...those fears we have can seem really big and really real to us, but it turns out it’s actually our boyfriends hiding under you dorm room bed...

Oh man, that did not sound inspirational at all, but hey, go with the flow yo!