domesticated.

When I make a new friend, there are about three things they will learn about me right away. First, I am a level ten scaredy-cat (that is, if the scale goes up to ten). Secondly, I have a bladder the size of a walnut and the first thing I do when entering a new premise is search for the restroom. And third, I am a terrible cook.

My family teases me mercilessly about my inability to cook. It's quite sad really. I've given it my best shot, but to no avail, it is a talent I do not possess.

Cooking is a quality needed for multiple reasons, namely: so you can eat tastey food and so you can get married-are you familiar with the phrase, 'the quickest way to a guy's heart is through his stomach?' Yeah, I'll be needing to mapquest the long-route because the 'quickest' way doesn't play to my strengths.

Though I try to keep my lack of cooking-sense on the DL, it tends to slip out eventually and here's an example of the conversation that has happened when the truth becomes known.

"Cassie, you're not a good cook?" (bewildered and slightly horrified).

"Well, I suppose the phrase 'good cook' depends on what your taste buds prefer. If you're into eating burnt toast then yes, my cooking skills would be adequate for you."

"...Well, do you like cleaning?" (hopefully and sincerely).

"Who in their right mind likes cleaning?...no offense."

(this is where things get awkward) "....Do you like cats?"

My mom says she will try to get me more domestic before I graduate. But when I hear the word 'domestic' I think of animals who can pee inside without making a mess so we'll see how this process of domesticating me goes. (And just so we're clear, although I do have a small bladder, I can pee inside quite well).