Five heads

When I think of or see a large forehead nothing else comes to mind other than: EW. It's not anyone's fault (except for the parents who conceived such a large-foreheaded child) but I really don't like them. They are kind of creepy and....shinny. I once knew a girl who had an enormous forehead and she made it about 5 times worse because she used this Covergirl powder on her face that was at least 3 shades darker than her fair skin. And to top it all off, she couldn't put the makeup on right, so there was this LINE of dark powder streaked across her forehead and around her eyes. I actually got caught staring at it riding home from school on the bus. I guess I was staring too long cause she stopped saying whatever it is she was saying and asked if she had anything on her face. And I swear it was just like in the movies or on TV when someone gets caught looking at something they shouldn't be, I stuttered and probably made a weird face and lied by repeating "no" a lot.

And for future instances, I have a few things I'd like to say:

1. I'm sorry if I stare at your large forehead.

2. I will not admit to you that you have a large forehead, so please don't ask me.

3. A lot of people look really good with bangs *hint**hint*

Incompetence

So maybe I'm not alone in this but it's pretty far up there on the "things I don't like" list. Being in college, it should be easy to do somethings for ourselves. And it's not like I'm expecting much, but if you don't know something, look it up. And yet the easiest thing of all (though you'd think it would be the most difficult by the way some people can't handle it) is to think about it yourself! People these days are just waaaayy too eager to just go somewhere else for answers as opposed to figuring shit out themselves. I mean, didn't we learn this in elementary school??? STAR- Stop Think Act Review. Sadly, so many people today rarely stop, never think, often act, and can't stand reviewing themselves. I shouldn't have to baby anyone else because of that persons inability do to a simple task.

Practice, but not in public please.

I love, love, loooove high heels. I own more high heels than all my other types of shoes combined. And I like them high, too. I sometimes joke that when God made me, He messed up and that I am actually supposed to be 4 inches taller than my oh-so-average 5'6. They are sexy and can make any pair of ass and legs, no matter how big or small, look absolutely phenomenal.

So taking all of this in, I cannot STAND IT when I see a girl, and more often times a woman, walking around in killer heels looking as though they are about to go hurt someone very severely. What I mean by this, is the stomping. It's all too common that I walk around my campus, or a mall, or a club, or a bar and see someone walking in heels as though they just learned to walk and decided that wearing a stiletto would be a good choice of footwear. Honestly, they remind me of inexperienced men, or maybe not even men, men don't often think they look good tromping about in heels, but something more along the lines of a chimp in heels. Did we just learn how to walk? I don't think so. Heel to toe. Heel to toe. Heel to toe. It really is that easy.

And for goodness sake, if you know you can't walk in heels, please don't go out into public wearing them. And if you have a friend who can't walk in heels, tell her (Please, God, TELL HER) she can't or just suggest a flatter, more "stable" shoe. I'm saying all of this, not just for my own benefit and happiness, but for all of those ladies out there who need someone to tell them to put down the heel.

Mouth breathers

I can't even start out with "you know who you are," because I'm pretty sure the mouth breathers have no idea who they are, otherwise they wouldn't want to be in this category. But honestly, I don't have a lot to say about this one other than: Close Your Mouth! It's really gross and distracting when you constantly have your mouth open. If you aren't trying to catch flies, close it up. Please.

Baked beans

Okay, so a lot of people don't like certain foods. Kids hate their vegetables and vegetarians hate meat. But to understand the reason I hate baked beans, you'll need a little back story...

*screen ripples to my memories*

We are sitting at my dining room table. My father has made baked beans... again.

"Caitlin, do you want some baked beans?" my father says.

My siblings and mom clamp their lips and suppress the giggles.

"No, I don't like baked beans," I say and try not to bite.

"Since when?" he says.

"Dad, I've never liked them," I say and sigh.

"Have you tried them?" he says.

"I don't want to try them," I say. "I don't like them."

"You don't know if you don't like them. Try them," he says and hands me the pot.

I put some on my plate. I put the grossness in my mouth, gag a little, make some funny faces and swallow as fast as I can before saying, "Still don't like 'em."

I can't even count how many times I've had this conversation with my father. I'd guess about twice a month for my whole 22 years of existence. It's not like I have a personal hatred of baked beans. That would be odd. But after years of having, literally, the same conversation with my father, I cannot stand baked beans. And I think this dislike-turned-hatred has spilled over into other areas. Specifically the term "cool beans." I really can't stand that.

Beans aren't cold. At least they shouldn't be cold. They should be hot. And even then, they aren't that good.

5 things

I can't think of any one thing that I would like to talk about constantly for a whole semester. Maybe my mind and/or heart just aren't big enough to handle that type of devotion at this point in my life. But I do have in mind many more than 5 things that have the same topic in common. I don't like a lot of things. And I don't see this as being picky or being stuck up, I just know what I like and I definitely know what I do not like. And over the years I have accumulated a pretty substantial list of things that are on my "do not like" list. And these things are what I want to talk about. And I've already come up with a title for this blog, obviously.

Gary

I've loved Gary since I created him in 2003. I was at South Hills Village Mall, I was 16 years old, and I found him at the Build A Bear Workshop. He was like me at the time: empty, lonely and needing someone to love him unconditionally. His curly, sandy brown hair was soft and touchable. He fit perfectly in my arms. He wore green bows around his ears and he looked pretty. It wasn't until hours after his creation that I found out his name by the help of a stranger in Eat N Park. "What's your name," I asked the boy. "Gary," he said, or at least I thought he said Gary. I proceeded to tell him how weird of a name Gary was and asked why his parents named him Gary, which is when he corrected me and said his name was Greg, or something along those lines (it was a long time ago). So after some deliberation, I decided that Gary was actually the perfect name for my little companion and we've been happy ever since. Gary doesn't mind that I steal all the blankets or that I laugh too loud or that I have the occasional flares in temperament, he is still the same bear I made 6 years ago who knows that on the inside I'm still a little lonely and I still need to be loved unconditionally all the same.