CRU Women's Retreat Promo

This whole thing started at DCC this year--where my beloved mama Ab-dog suggested that some of us make a video promo for women's retreat this year. And, if you know anything about teenaged girls you know--we're crazy, and awesome (crawesome). We wrapped everything up last night and voila! This video was born, enjoy, and hey! you should go! 

Losa-Face.

I’m like, the biggest loser ever.

And take that as you will, but I mean in the sense of losing things, my student ID in particular. It’s like my job to lose that stupid card.

No, I don’t lose my driver’s license or my debit card, which you know that’s good, but I need my student ID to do basically anything on campus, including eat.  I’m especially good at losing it precisely at the moment it’s most needed (i.e. dinner time, lunch time etc.) I usually shout that a crisis is occurring, and proceed to rip through everything in my room looking for the tiny piece of plastic.

Well, recently, aka Sunday night I discovered that yet again my card was missing, and this time I had no recollection of using or seeing it since Friday.

P-TO THE-ROBLEM.

So after nearly a half hour of looking through our whole room, then re-looking, I turned to Amy and said…I’m gonna have to buy a new one.

And you know why that’s terrible? Because I know when I do buy one I’ll find the old one immediately, that’s just how my life works! So, waking up on Monday morning, knowing I’d resigned to paying the fifteen dollars for a new ID, I felt my day was going to be completely horrid.

But luckily it was a cold gloomy day (hey, I like those type of days, somebody needs to!) and I started it with a long shower listening to Gavin Degraw, and other rainy-day type artists.

And when I finally walked over to the administration building to get my new card…

They asked me a question…

A WONDERFUL question.

Would you like to take a new photo?

HECK TO THE YES I WOULD.

Now, one thing you should know, is my old photo was taken when I was not prepared, I had longer hair, up in a bun and looked similar to…well to a very unflattering photo, glare on my glasses, everything bad that could be, was in that photo! It didn’t even LOOK like me for pity sake!

Anyway, so I sat myself down in the chair and she aimed and shot, and guys, guess. What.

I took the first decent photo in my life, in measure of ID cards anyway! I have a perpetual hateful relationship with my ID’s, because I HAVE SQUINTY EYES. It’s not my fault! I was born with them! But when I’m told to smile, and do, well it looks like they’re closed! And so usually I can estimate a total of 3-4 retakes being necessary—really it just depends on the endurance of the photographer…but none of that was necessary today.

Because, today was MY day!

Cost of ID holder and key chain to hold new ID: 13$

Cost of a new student ID due to my immense loser-ness: 15$

Cost of new decent photo on ID: Priceless.

Top 10, of being a terrible person...

Often times in these winter months, I’ve found, the worst of humanity comes out—due to:

1)   Restlessness from being stuck inside

2)   The high of Christmas has worn off

3)   And your New Year resolutions are already slipping.

And in order to celebrate the scum coming out I’d like to share some things about myself! And hey, maybe you’ll even enjoy it!

Top 10 Reasons why I am a terrible person:

10. I crack my knuckles, all the time.

Yes, I know, I was told when I was little that my knuckles would swell up and be gross and ugly and I’d never find anyone to love me—but to me that’s like a challenge, so naturally I pop away; during class, during church, before I go to bed…It’s a habit, and I really don’t care to break it…Sorry. Sorry I’m NOT sorry.

9. I stick gum under desks (sometimes)

Now I rarely chew gum, but let’s be real, who HASN’T done this? And sadly I stopped being able to swallow the stupid stuff when I was about 5. I gag it up if I try (and I have, another story, another time…) anyway, so YES I admit it! Sometimes the trashcan being 5 whole feet away seems like a mega leap. So the bottom of a desk seems like a totally convenient spot, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.

8. I put things where they don’t belong in stores.

This is pretty low, but again, I feel like most people have done this at one point or another. That’s not a justification, but I’m really not trying to justify any of these things—I’m just telling. Recently on a trip to target I wanted to show my mom a watch, and she was in the men’s socks department—so naturally I brought the watch to her, when she smiled, and said a firm “no” it seemed reasonable to hide it under some of the nearby clothes. Did my on looking mama reprimand me? Yes, did it change anything? No.

#YOLO #HIDESTUFFINSTORES #LAZYYYFORDAWINNN

7. I eat my roommate’s food.

Now, A-dog is probs the best roommate I could ask for. And she’s been known to purposely get the food I like. However, on those days when my inner pig comes out anything is game. I eat everything—now true, mostly we have 100 calorie snack packs in our room, but still, it’s basically gone when I get to chompin.

6. I leave clothes in the washer/dryer for a long time…

Okay, the worst part about this is that I can’t stand other people that do it too. I live in a dorm—with a lot of other people, and we have two washers and two dryers on my floor, but that doesn’t stop me from leaving my clothes in their resting place for an hour or two after they’re done. Although some redemption is due! I have in fact nicely folded people’s clothes before in order to use the dryer when they’ve simply left them in they’re for hours. But seriously talk about being a hypocrite. I know, I’m terrible. Whatevs.

5. I rewash clean clothes (when at home)

Now I’m like 98% sure I’m not the only one guilty of this, I’m sure we’ve all done it. Especially when you don’t have to pay for anything! So say, maybe you washed and dried your clothes, but you left them in the laundry basket and they got super wrinkly, I find it perfectly logical to rewash them—or at least dry them again to attempt ridding them of wrinklies. I think it’s totally logical, no prob!

4. I overestimate the amount I can actually eat

Now this doesn’t seem to bad on the outside, but let’s put it in terms of me not actually buying the food… yea… story time! My senior Homecoming I went with a good friend of mine, but drama arose in the form of viral bronchitis the week of the dance, so I took the max amount of medication so I could go—however the meal before the dance was my first REAL meal I’d had all week, and peeps I WAS HUNGRY. However, let’s think about this, if you haven’t actually eaten in several days, your stomach gets a little accustomed to not eating. Well, you can’t take me to a fancy restaurant with yummy sounding things, and expect me NOT to want them… long story short, I ordered…some…stuff…and well, couldn’t exactly eat it… shoot. Luckily he was a trouper and didn’t judge, until I was better anyway, and since then I can’t hear the end of it…

3. I like to jam….Okay!?

So I have this thing, this really awesome thing, I’m really big on dance parties…be them alone, or with some other people, I just love to jam, and when I mean jam I mean you can hear it from the other side of campus. I like my music LOUD! I’m sure my ears have already started feeling the effects, but nonetheless, to jam or not to jam is always answered with TO JAM.

2. I use all the hot water

I love baths, and since being in college doesn’t exactly allow me the luxury of a bubble bath or two a day, I instead resort to really long showers. At my home, especially at the holidays when everyone is home, I can be counted on to be that person to take the nice long hot shower, leaving some nice cold winter water for the rest…I’m sorry, when I’m in shower mode I have a tendency to not consider everybody else…

1. I put points on people when driving…

This is list doesn’t really go in any order, but this is probably just a shameful thing I tend to do…Now let me explain the way the world works: When I’m a pedestrian, cars must yield to pedestrians; but when I’m a driver, pedestrians need to get the crap off the road. This also goes for when I’m a passenger in a car, not just driving. And I have been known to tell people 10 points for that person, 15 for the other! Which is a horrible thing to say! Which is why this is a list of why I’m terrible! And yes, I am biased; if I know the person the points usually go up… I’m awful I know, yata yata yata.

Are there any terrible qualities we share?

Luckily we’re saved by grace, and not on a matter of where we rest on the terrible scale, thank goodness.

            

Start of Something New-HSM!

I’m back in W-town!

And I’ve realized something, I feel the best things to write about generally happen here, maybe it’s because this is where I am most of the time, or maybe it’s the fact that nothing even remotely interesting ever happens here, so WHEN something remotely interesting DOES happen, it’s kind of a culture shock, and is perfect incentive for blog-writing!

Now, with the new semester starting that means new beginnings, a new Marissa, new goals and a total life change right?

No, that is not what that means, personally I think the obsession with ringing in the new year is ridiculous, I like MAKING lists, but when, on any other day of the year, do I like DOING the list? NEVER! So why start now!?

This New Year, I solemnly vow to NOT make, or DO, any inane resolutions.

However, with the start of a new year means the start of my second semester in college; aka new classes and more importantly SYLLABUS WEEK!

If you don’t know what syllabus week is, it’s one of the greatest things to ever happen. EVER. Period, no doubt about it! You go to class, and they hand you a paper and then start talking, you really don’t even need to listen if you don’t want to… (I do, I’m not that bad of a student) But syllabus week is basically student language for NO HOMEWORK!

And often times SHORTENED CLASSES!

Now, when signing up for new classes have you ever had one of those brilliant moments where you see a class and just know that’s where you belong? I had one of these moments and it looked something like this:

Bowling 220

And just like that I was enrolled.

Now class started monday in good ol’ WSC, I met with a friend of mine before the aforementioned course of learning. And I distinctly recall saying “this had better not take more than 20 minutes” 

I jinxed it.

Right then and there.

Technically the class is for an hour and 40 minutes, but that’s because we’ll actually BE bowling , however you don’t DO things on syllabus day, so I feel I was completely justified in thinking 20 minutes would be perfect. However the class lasted…

An hour…

And thirty-seven minutes.

AN HOUR AND THIRTY-SEVEN MINUTES.

I had no idea all the logistics that went into the game of bowling, and my gosh, I realize now I didn’t want to…but a lesson was learned in this seminar of a class on day one of the semester. And that lesson is on judgment.

You see, as I was sitting in this class I found it laughable how intense and passionate the speaker was for bowling, how it was a sport and an art.  But then I realized that this is something that’s important to this person, and I might not find it particularly great, or dare I say it, cool. But it’s important to HIM, so I need to respect it.

It was actually quite a humbling experience in Bowling 220, and it gave me a good hard look at myself, and into my past of things I’ve found great; so I came up with something for everyone to know about me, that when I look back on it, I feel great embarrassment--mingled with a strange sense of awesome.

I used to roller-figure skate.

For like a year.

Now, let me explain, YES it’s a thing, and NO it didn’t die with the 90’s. And YES I’m serious. (sadly no photo proof is available at this time)

Roller-Figure Skating was in fact a pretty big sport for the spans of the 90’s decade, and I brought it back in the 00’s. Boo to the yea. I had my own little velvet black tu-tu, skates, and stirrup tights. I did figure eights, and at the end of my skating career could do a full leap and spin. (This may sound impressive but I got about 3 whole inches of air in those leaps) I would come home with new bruises everyday, I may look similar to a graceful super model now, but back then I appeared to be related to some type of klutzy sloth. I was horrible, but very proud.

And to this day, I can say I think it was pretty awesome, we all have our quirks, our funny habits, and things that make us tick; that’s what makes us human.

What I learned on the first day of Bowling 220 wasn't only what the crap a flare on a bowling ball is, but also that those ticks each of us have are normal, and a pretty amazing part of life.

Marked Woman

So guys something pretty permanent has just happened in my life; no, I didn’t finally get a puppy, and no I didn’t dye my hair.

I GOT A TATTOO.

Yep, let’s let that sink in. Now, I’ve wanted one for quite awhile, but for me it’s a big decision—I mean it’ll be there FOREVER, it’s like marriage. Till death do us part, well maybe not so marriage like, but you get my point. But in the past several weeks the idea has become more prevalent in my mind, and I decided on:

Bought

1 Corinthians

7:23

“You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of human beings. “

Now you can take it as is, but to me this verse symbolizes a commitment in my life, to be a servant of Jesus Christ, and not to human beings.

So there’s the big news, but as with all things in my life lots of drama was involved! If you know me, you know I’m the youngest child of a Pastor father, and a nurse mother. My parents were really cool about everything, they were totally okay with what I wanted, but you know—they had to be a pain with some things. It was kind of surprising really, I told my dad first what I was planning and his response was:

“You’re so fun, you just get excited about some things!” thank you dad.

My mom, was surprisingly a bit more hesitant sounding, but she was also busy working when I popped the news, so ya know, that may explain some things. Now the night before the big day, my father felt it necessary to text all of his seminary pals:

My youngest daughter is getting a tattoo, pray for me.

To which they all responded within five minutes.

I’d like to highlight some things in this message, first he says my youngest daughter, to emphasize the fact that all his other children have so far made it through life unscathed, and the second bit is ME, don’t pray for HER, pray for ME. Are you kidding me? Story of my life people, that man, love him. He was quite proud of this, and when I yelled at him, he responded with little giggles you’d expect from a five-year-old girl with a pony.

Now the day finally came to go and get the tattoo, and I had gathered myself a posse, also known as Marissa’s emotional support. My mom was to be part of this gang, per her request, but when I went to wake her up her response was:

“Can you go without me?”

Yes mom, I can… thank you for this support.

Doin' the deed...

            *I know I knock on my parents, but for real, I couldn’t ask for any better, I totally love those two.

Now that my posse (consisting of Liz, Emily, Andrew, and Tommy) was assembled, we get down to the parlor, where lots of disaster happens, the tattoo I originally asked for was too small, so we did a quick redesign in the store (no biggie) and then I was asked for ID. And that’s where the problem was, I had forgotten it…so yep, after some really awkward scuttle, my wing-gal Emily and I drove back to my home, retrieved the necessary identification, and returned to our destination. And at that point Liz asked me her appointed question of "Are you SURE" and I said "YEP" a hop skip and a jump later i was in the room.

The room of pain.

VOILA!

Now I’m about the biggest baby you’ve ever met, when I stub my toe you’d think the apocalypse had begun by the screams of anguish. But I can proudly say there where no tears shed, mind you my eyes were a little watery ONLY A LITTLE. But my excellent hand holder, Liz, can attest to my bravery in the face of pain, okay it wasn’t that bad, not even a little…I just live for drama.

Peace ma brothas and sistas. 

DONE and DONER

Hey ya'll I hope 2013 has kicked off to a fantabulous start! and as all new years go, there is a time of reflection, so I thought I'd share some of my own...

I have offish finished my first semester of college, all the grades are in and this gal didn’t fail! (Which sadly was a very large possibility)

So, I think I’m going to recap this eventful time in my life with none other than a BLOG POST. So here we go!

Well, the first week of college was not what I was expecting, you know in movies where everyone is all buddy buddy, and goes to parties? Well, I was more SOB SOB SOB SOB SOB, and then to spice things up a little more SOBBING. I was ripped from the comforts of home and thrust into an entire new world! And school hadn’t even begun yet!

Now the first day of school came with its own disasters, and I think I put it most eloquently like so:

August 26^th 2012:

7:45a. ready to go!

7:50a. realizes classes don’t start till 9…

8:55a. realized forgot schedule vaguely remembers first class room #119

8:57a wrong room—in search of help

9:00a. find help (very nice lady) points to room #129

9:03a go to room—big scary people in room

9:05a go back to dorm, call home say “I quit”

9:06a told can’t quit.

9:07a looks at schedule, class in room #019

9:10a to humiliated, decides to try next class at 10a

~effectively skipped first class of college career~

10a in correct room!

10:05a teacher talking about nature.

10:10a teacher still talking about nature, wondering why not talking about appointed vampire-book reading…

10:12a teacher pulls out class book—not about vampires—about nature essays…

10:13a tries to figuratively stab self in the face.

10:15a realizes enjoys teacher somewhat

10:45a decides to maybe stay

12p looks up Lit class

12:02p bought wrong books for lit class…

12:03p considers jumping off roof

12:04p decides against this.

12:30 buys nature book

12:50 not so bad nature book

3p calls home to complain.

And that was my first day of college, my life is a disaster, it’s just my thing.

One of the biggest obstacles in coming to college I feel is living in close quarters with another human being, and as my next older sibling is five years older than me, I’ve been an only child in all sense of the word lately; and when I say close quarters I’m guessing most people picture an average dorm—however, I don’t live in an average dorm—I live in a closet. My dorm is about 11x18 and has pull down beds, let me repeat that pull.down.beds. Like, from the wall—like...Maddie’s room in Sweet Life of Zack and Cody (but this isn’t a hotel).

When coming to WSC I knew one thing about the dorms, and that was, I will die if I live in Bowen. So I did everything I could to not end up in there, however my efforts were fruitless when the room assignments came out, and 8^th floor Bowen had my name on it. I’ll be real, I ran to my mommy with teary little eyes, and she directed me to call the office and demand a new room. But strangely enough at this moment I said:

No, I’ve prayed about this—and God put me here, as unhappy as I am about it, for a reason. So I should probably find out what that reason is…

And truthfully dear reader, I’m glad I did.

I have heard countless horror stories of roommate squabbles, for heavens sake I watched The Roommate, before coming to college (terrible decision) but I can honestly say I totally lucked out. Amy is probably the best roommate I could’ve wished for, we are equally weird in our own little ways, but completely different in almost all of them. I like to describe us as an old married couple, where I’m the husband who stays in the room and plays crosswords, and she’s the wife who goes to bridge—finds out all the gossip and comes back to report…and this is literal, at one point she needed to come back to the room several times within one library trip because she needed to unload her new information. We enjoy roommate bonding time, and I’m fairly certain we rub off on one another in the most annoying ways; I’ve improved her vocab with abbreviations (totes presh gurlfrannn) and she’s improved my weird phrases with hot dog! And fair enough… we have weekly roommate breakfasts, where we both role out of bed on Friday mornings before A-dog’s 8am class, and enjoy movie nights with lots of food and candy. I don’t think I can adequately describe all the happenings of our festive little room—but honestly, I don’t think I could ask for a better roomie.

Now, when it comes to classes, I’ll try to glide over the most prevalent. History and anthropology, remember what I said about passing? This is where the worry came from. Now to put it gently, my teacher was the anti-christ. And I think the total learning done in this class was 0%. Very little was notable in these classes, but I do come out of the experience with some awesome quotes.

“William Wallace was an advanced evolutionist” Yes, William Wallace, the Scottish man…. Thank you for this knowledge.

“Your final is tomorrow, so today we’ll just look at a slideshow of a vacation I took” Okay, she didn’t SAY this, but that’s what we did.

And my favorite: “Sometimes I think I’m a closet Buddhist, but then again I think I’d be a great wiccan, I don’t know how well my church would like it.” I don’t even know where you come up with something like that.

There have been many more notable memories, but some of those I think I’ll keep to myself; I’ve met some amazing people, and had some awesome experiences in the past few months. I’ve come along way since my teary eyed start, and I’m definitely looking forward to the coming years college has to offer me!