Good... And Good for You

i am NOT going to make resolutions this year. i never keep them, and thus i spend the first two weeks of the year feeling guilty. plus, i don't really want to change. maybe instead i'll make some anti-resolutions. anti-resolution 1: i will not hang up my clothes right when i take them off. i realize not hanging up my clothes makes my room messy. i'm ok with that. a.r.2: i will not eat healthier. i like cheetos. i also like chocolate. and mountain dew. and taco bell (i really like taco bell). a.r.3: i will not get a's in all my classes. i graduate in april. i just need to pass the classes. give me b's or c's and a life anyday. a.r.4: i will not stop watching tv. i like it. i like that i can turn it on and watch it for hours at a time. i like that when i watch tv, i don't have to move or talk or think. a.r.5: i will not try to find mr. right. i don't have time. happy new year!

when you're in a very crowded food court and you're gasping for breath because you've just managed to hack the piece of panda express food you were choking on across the table at your date, what do you you say to him as he stares warily at you? a. "don't you just love their orange chicken?" b. "so... you're an english major?" c. "i did that to teach you a lesson about being prepared. do you even know how to give the heimlich manuever? do you even know?? answer me!!" d. "ya... i'm not sexy."

i'm not the most observant of people, that's a given, but have you noticed that my little "imood" link thing on this page has been set to "rested" for about three months? three months!! um, guys... i'm not rested. i don't remember my password to "imood" so i can't change it. but i'm not. i'm the opposite of rested. i'm the amazing UNrested girl. i am queen over all that is unresty. are we clear? NOT rested.

everyone i know has a life plan. some big, dream life they're trying to form into a reality. i don't. i'm dreamless. dream free. lacking all that is dream-based. oh! but i do have random "dreamlets" which i fully intend to incorporate into my life. i don't know if i'm going to have a career, if i'm going to work, or what- nor do i really care- but my career dreamlet does involve me owning a mac laptop computer and cute glasses. i don't dream about where i'm going to live or how much money i'll make, but i do dream of a dining room with red walls. i don't dream about being married. i do dream of a wedding with tons of candles and flowers. and punch. i most definately dream about punch.

this thanksgiving was possibly the least dysfunctional my family has ever had. ever. which is all well and good, but doesn't make for good story telling. although... my grandmother and great aunt did ask carolyn and i to teach them how to hip hop dance, which we did. my crazy cousin did ask me to work for him at his landscaping company. heading up a team of "20 or so mexicans". oh and he also cornered me in the kitchen at one point with a knife saying, "you know why you'll never win? because you have fear. and fear is the enemy." to which i shouted, "no! YOU are the enemy!" and slipped out and hid behind my very large father. oh! and my other crazy cousin (my crazy cousin's brother) told me that if he ever caught me drinking beer, he'd punch my teeth out. i told him i'd cut down. and of course there was the endless barrage of questions about my not marriedness/barrenness/failure as a mormon womanness. but that's old news.

(a.k.a. the day that broke me) (a.k.a. yesterday) three facts which might prove pertinent... #1 i'm a graphic design major and i graduate in april. #2 my bosses asked me to design some labels for the new store they're opening in the mall. #3 i don't know anything about graphic design. i down play. i make myself down play. i only get stressed or frustrated as a last resort. this is why i feel i can tell people that i'm a rational human being. so, yesterday when i ran some labels to my boss in the mall and locked my keys in the car for the first time in my life, my immediate reaction was: "it's not a big deal. just go to the information desk and get a security guard to open it." it was 8:30 in the morning and obviously the information desk wasn't open. "it's not a big deal. the information desk will be open by the time you're done here." my boss looked at the labels i'd made, loved them, and wanted more. our conversation took all of

tonight i saw carmen... carmen rasmusen...from "american idol". ... or at least, i saw a skinny girl with perfect blonde hair and no nose. i guess she pretty much could've been any byu co-ed. she was sitting two rows in front of me. it's not really a classic blog.

*"she's not just a pretty face" by shania... in fact... shania. shania must go. *school *the movie "joe dirt" *pretending to like "buffy" in order to date a certain girl *uncle kracker continuing on... *marathon visits *the "star wars" prequels (maybe george lucas should just go) *john bytheway *"the man show" *mary kay salespeople not to be out done by... *19 year old newly marrieds dishing out dating advice. *anyone dishing out dating advice. *the olsen twins *the mcgriddle (well... not so much the mcgriddle itself as the calories and fat content contained within said breakfast sandwich) *herbal essences commercials

all afternoon at work, we played the celebrity connection game. on person would name two random celebrities and the rest of us would try and connect them through movies. kind of a "7 degrees to kevin bacon" type game. i'm not gonna lie to you, i'm really good at this game. intimidatingly good. and also "7 degrees to nik.alexander" is equally fun to play, because everyone i know in real life is connected to him through dating or roomate associations. i know i am. in two ways. which means that all of you are too. mwahahaha....

dear kylily.blogspot.com, we've been together for exactly one year today. let's put that into "kat perspective" for everyone else out there. that's the equivalent of... 5 quasi boyfriends. 8,760 episodes of "buffy". 23 trips to salt lake and back. 7,396 references to "kitty kat", "kit kat", or"kat in the hat", or plaintive cries of "meow!". 131,400 times karaoking the song "old time rock and roll". 1,460 excruciatingly long dates, or in my case... 1,460 excruciatingly long " non dates", or to be even more precise... 151 times being asked out and 151 date cancellations. 13,578 comments about my freakish height. 5,840 talent shows in which i make a fool of myself. 4,380 dtr's. 1,397 encounters with a wall. 11,680 times watching...er, doing "taebo". 146 pioneer treks. 1,095 libido chocolates. i love you, kylily.blogspot.com. this anniversary is very important to me

when one works at a chocolate factory, one tends to secretly hope the owner of said factory is willy wonka-esque. sadly, life is full of disappointments. when the owner of the chocolate factory to which one is employed hands one a prototype labido chocolate and orders one to eat it, one does, secretly hoping it will result in one becoming a lustier version of "the hulk". sadly, reality if full of disappointments. in conclusion, when one has a mouth full of labido chocolate and the owner asks if it's too minty, the correct answer is anything but, "ya, but at least my breath feels fresher." sadly, i am full of disappointments.

my favorite class this semester is my "color theory" class. mostly because of the title. but also because of my teacher who's only a few years older than me and slightly resembles eartha kitt. earlier in the semester i was talking to her before class and she described the family reunion she'd just come from. or as she liked to call it... her " traditional family rodeo ". apparently "traditional" stands for "animals not included". where most families would quit, her family proudly rodeos on. they have a calf tying event where the boys are the horses, the girls are the cowboys, and the young children are the calves. ... think about it. and of course the big event is bull riding which could be more appropriately termed "extreme piggy back riding". in my estimation there's no form of entertainment to match the traditional family rodeo. none. unless you take into account an actual rodeo. or maybe one of my family's

a couple nights ago, i was laying on my couch reading a book, when who should come to my door but joseph. yay!!! oh wait. you can't be excited until i explain who joseph is. joseph is this little 9 year old boy who wears a little tuxedo and talks like he's 37. he used to always go door to door and sell roses to earn enough money to go to gymnastics camp. sometimes he would hang out in my apartment with my friends and me for a couple of hours and then i would remember that he wasn't one of my friends, he was a little 9 year old boy selling roses really late at night. and then i would ask him where his mom was and he would say that she was in the car waiting for him, and then i would tell him that he should probably go home. eventually he stopped coming around. but then... a couple of nights ago, i was laying on my couch reading a book, when who should come to my door but joseph! yay!!! only this time he was selling bookmarks to earn enough money to buy a banjo for the

my halloween plans have varied from one day to the next. the most recent plan involves me sitting in my "jammies" with a big pile of candy, watching a scary movie. the only hitch? i already watched one. a gripping one. a wimper inducing, sit on the edge of your seat one. "finding nemo" to be exact. nobody warned me about how intense it is. granted, most people don't have a fear of the ocean. i believe this is because most people haven't been raised in a desert watching things such as "jaws", "20,000 leagues under the sea", documentaries on people who have disappeared down deep oceanic trenches, and most importantly "star trek 4". so, yes. this holiday's scary movie quota has been filled thank you. leaving me with jammies and a big pile of candy.

i realize that the following statement is the theme of over two hundred thousand movies and books but it still needs to be said... you can't get rid of a problem by ignoring it. it doesn't work, and it takes way too much energy. guilt, awkwardness, hurt feelings, you can push them down and hide them but it doesn't get rid of anything. so there you have it. i'm claiming this cliched statement as my own... ignoring problems= bad.

as long as taco bell makes the 7 layer burrito, i will crave it. as long as mcdonalds continues to make those tiny little sausage & egg mcmuffins with cheese, i will consume them. as long as baskin robbins provides the chocolate blast, i'll be standing line. as long as there are fresh value meals and frosties and kfc's mashed potatos and veggie pizza, i will do my part to eat out every single day. what's my point? i have to buy a gym pass.

i feel it's worth mentioning that during dinner last night my grandmother told a story about how she fell into her garbage can a few days ago and couldn't get out. i also feel it's worth mentioning that i laughed so hard i couldn't breathe.

traffic wasn't kind to me. on my way to salt lake it took me a half hour to drive 10 miles. while stuck in traffic on my way back down to provo, the sun was in my eyes and i inadvertently flirted with the guy in the car next to me. he, in turn, proceeded to follow me and give me the upward nod at evenly spaced intervals. it started to get somewhat creepy and off putting. and really frustrating. and then i snapped. i decided that i was on the side of good and traffic laws no longer applied to me. needless to say i got home in record time. and creepy freeway guy will hopefully always remember me fondly as "the one who got away".

i know it's driving you crazy that my comments have disappeared. i don't know where they went or why they left, but i'm trying to get them to come back. i'll fix it soon. i promise. i love you. kat.

10 minutes ago i almost died. seriously. on the freeway. two semi's sandwiched me in. i screamed really loud because i thought i was going to die in a really painful way. and truth be told, i don't want to die. i mean, i read my scriptures last night and i said my prayers this morning, and yesterday when i was really frustrated and wanted to swear, i didn't. so my soul's pretty much prepared. i'm good to go. but i want to get married, and live outside of utah, and (let's be honest here) have sex, and have baby's. and also, i just got a brand new guitar. i have a lot to live for. this is why i'm glad i didn't die today. this is also why i bought a 7 layer burrito at taco bell today. and this is why i'm not going to go to school today.

i tend to bond with my food servers- mostly because they bring me food- and i like to think that i'm more than just a customer to them, that i'm more than just a means to a $3 tip. the adorable taco bell cashier, casey from cup of joe, they all have a special place in my heart. however, i think i found a true soulmate yesterday at olive garden... berkley. berkley is funny and cute and fun to talk to. he referred to me as "intense". he sat down at my table and listened to one of my stories. he teased me. he brought me black tie mousse cake. i loved him. purely. intensely. deeply. and yet, eventually we had to part ways. and now i'm sad because i miss him. the thing is, with most of my pseudo friends, i realize that it's purely situational. if i met them at a ward activity i'd go, "nice to meet you", and ask them where they're from, and what their major is, and then i'd never think about them again. but if i met berkley at a ward

i'm not going to lie to you. i went to the "big ass show" on saturday. i went... ryan went... a million punk 14 year olds went... and it was great. really great. it's complete greatness isn't attributed to eve 6's posing and self proclaimed "sociopolitical music", nor to the little punk girls wearing pink, nor to the 30 year old drunkies trying to imitate a budweiser commercial and failing miserably because they were too drunk to walk straight. the "big ass show" was great because i had an epiphany. i've always considered myself the eternal 15 year old kat inside. and that's why i react to dating, school, authority figures, and everything else the way i do. but i finally indulged 15 year old kat. i did something i've always wanted to do. i went to a rock concert. and i thought it was lame. i think 15 year old kat it growing up. and that's great.

i can't tell you where i got it. i can't tell you who made it. i can't tell you what one of the ingredients is, or how i found out, or who told me. all i can tell you is, i consumed two candy bars worth of "labido" today.

i found out that we make dark chocolate truffles. this can only end in obesity.

an english book that was sold out. an english book that was sold out but which none the less i needed. i special ordered this book, this horrible, sold out, english book. because i needed it. for a paper. for a really dull paper that my teacher didn't explain. i waited for the book. i waited for a week. i went to meet the english book several times, and each time this thoughtless english book stood me up. i felt that the egocentric english book would be there for me today. i gave up $7 of m time to get the book. the book was there! i could see it! i could touch it! i could take it home!... once i showed some picture i.d. i had a credit card with my name on it. i had a library card with my name on it. i had a cell phone with my name on it. i had a social security card with my name on it. i'm me. i'm most definately me. the bookstore lady wasn't convinced. that english book is a tease. i went to get a school i.d. so i could get the book. the school i.d. lady

turns out i'm the "girl who people ask out but never actually go out with" (i'm also the "girl who inevitably spills all over her new white shirt", but that's a different tirade for a different time and a different place). i don't go on many dates- much to my mother's chagrin- and i'm okay with it since dates scare me and promote shopping therapy (which promotes an empty bank account). what i'm not okay with is the recent realization i've come to that i get asked out quite often with no results. the dates always get cancelled, or postponed, or morphed into the dreaded "non date". i believe i know the reason... i eat a lot... a lot. i can only deduce that these poor boys ask me out with the best of intentions only to realize the immensity of my appetite. and they can't afford it, so they're forced to back out. i feel really bad about it. poor boys. from now on when i get asked out, i'll promise to order a

all of a sudden, out of nowhere, taking me by complete surprise, it has become... fall. many of you who know me well, might be wondering if i'm having my traditional autumnal break down. surprisingly i remain immune. there are some factors that we need to go over... factor, the first: i've been too busy to dwell. factor, the second: fall fashions. factor, the third: comfort from the fact that even at it's worst, this fall couldn't possibly be as horrid as last fall.

hehehe... a confession: my freshman year of college my roomates and i had a band and we performed on campus a couple of times, and we made a cd, and we never had a name, and we drove some of the freshmen boys wild. i don't like to dwell on that part of my college history, but it's there none the less. sigh... i just got recognized from it. i ran out of the room. it had to be done. the guy even remembered one of the songs we wrote. ...and i think i might be blushing.

i went to moab with my parents this weekend and came away from it with some new lessons learned. here are some important DO's for a peterson family vacation... while nobody's looking, DO go through the "travelling cd's" and hide anything with the phrase "... classic country story ballads" in the title. if the mythical "organic black crust" is found while hiking DO jump up and down and shout "le sol vit! le sol vit!" when my mom enthusiastically explains her plan to leave her key chain collection as a legacy to my children, DO exclaim "why?!" with a look of fear and repugnance. if a rattlesnake is encountered at dead horse point, DO burst into a crocodile hunter impression in front of all the non-english speaking tourists. while watching "i love the 70's", DO explain that the commentary is sarcastic and not meant as a personal attack against the osmond's. when my dad accidentally drifts off the canyon road,

right when i think i'm on my way to becoming this wonderful, glowing, grown up type person, i find myself responding to situations like a 15 year old. no even worse, like a 13 year old. it's not good. i see this. the glowing grown up in me sees that this isn't good. but the 13 year old... sigh... the 13 year old wants people to cater to me. the 13 year old is stressed and moody and just wants ice cream and non stop sunshine.

i'm mutating into the type of person i've always feared becoming... my mother. i've noticed that i start up conversations with random strangers in grocery store lines, at lagoon, in clothing stores... then the spirit of my mother exits my body and i'm stuck making small talk to somebody who i don't really care about but who it turns out is very oppinionated about the california governer situation, or the price of eggs, or their junior high teacher, and so i nod politely and will the line to move faster. which i think might mean that i'm also mutating into the only other type of person i've always feared becoming... my father.

at the moment i feel as though i could be an episode of the "mary tyler moore show". you know, the episode where after a summer of tomfoolery she decides to buckle down, find a quick way to get a college degree, sign a rental contract, and find the most demeaning job she can. but wait! just when you thought it couldn't get any funnier, mary decides to become independent both financially and emotionally and so she pays for the rental deposit out of her "saving up for a really cool electric guitar" fund and makes an eye appointment. then she walks downtown, twirls in a circle, and throws her hat up in the air. i have my 22nd year plan. by the end of this year i plan to have a college degree, a little bit of money saved up, an idea of where i'm going to move to next summer, and a gibson electric guitar. i'm sorry if i've seemed on edge lately, but you see... i'm poor, i'm overwhelmed, i'm impatient, and quite frankly i've been hype

how is it possible for an idea to seem so simple and straight forward when you talk about it during relief society and then suddenly turn complicated and not-so-cut-and-dry in practice during the week?

i've been brainwashed by my society's grading system. i realized this today while i was driving on i-15. i consistently do a little something i like to refer to as "solid speeding". if there were a speeding class i'm pretty confident i would get an "a". and i like a's. they make me feel superior to everyone who didn't get an "a". i can't go under 65mph. i can't. that would be failing, and that would be wrong because i know i can do better, i can go faster. i don't understand people who are satisfied with their non speeding. as i pass them, i like to look them in the eye hoping they'll catch the vision. as i fly past them, i leave them inspired.

as promised, yesterday at 6:45 i turned over a new leaf. so you don't have to worry anymore guys.

i'm sure you've all heard this story, but i really enjoy telling it. last summer, there was a delightful young man who lived in the villa. i called him kevon (because that was his name). sometimes he was a bit off putting. he would lure me into his car using rasberry cheesecake as bait. he would whisper creepy nothings into my ear. he would kidnap me and try to take me to parties. but deep down he was a cool guy. when kevon moved into a much nicer apartment, he took me on a tour. and that day something came over me. i'm not sure if it was the lack of cinder blocks, or the lack of lead based paint, but i was caught up in the moment and offered to be his new roomate. kevon laid down the law, "i would never live with a girl unless she was my girlfriend." happy to be playing a fun new game, i said, "ok." then the mood changed to one of complete gravity as kevon said, "umm... i think it would be better if we were just friends." was kevon

this is a story about how bad timing can be a good thing... today i ran errands. eventually i ran a grocery store type errand. only when i got out of my car i realized that i... had... no... CREDIT CARD!!! i stopped in the parking lot and shook my head in frustration. then i drove home and ran inside and got my credit card and ran out and drove back to smith's. as i pulled into the grocery store parking lot i made grumbley noises. because i was upset. and then i noticed someone walking in front of me. and it... was... JAMES!!! i did what any of you would do, i swerved into the first parking space i saw. and i turned off my car. and i ducked. and hyperventillated just a little. i watched him drive away and i laughed at myself. however i was still a little weirded out by the "what if i'd had my credit card and had gone in 5 minutes earlier and ran into him and had to talk to him?" thought. so i bought myself a lot of flowers for my room. and

i try reeeally hard not to cry. but let's face it, i have a sensitive soul. there are certain things that always make me cry. like a little girl. to the point of sniffling... *the last 5 minutes of the fifth season finale of "buffy" *denzel washington in "glory" *boys (sigh... a moment of pathetic candidity) *animals dieing (seriously, if you hunt, don't tell me. DON'T.) *my mom

sigh... sadly, with my newly dyed hair i have to renounce my scandinavian heritage. it's heart breaking. my hair looks so pretty, but i look so... so... west side story. crap. maybe i just don't realize how good i look. oooo! catherine zeta jones has really dark hair and she's quite possibly the most beautiful woman in the planet. ooo!! courtney cox is beautiful too. sigh... i just looked in the mirror to see if my hair had faded at all. it hadn't. i thought maybe if i put more make up on, it would draw attention away from my hair... now i look like elvira. in completely different news, i've decided on july's "fox of the month" . better late than never is what i always say. maybe now that you've seen my dream coach , you'll better understand why i was convinced i was athletic for a full afternoon.

i return to provo a better woman because... a. i now know how to change a tire, for real. (did you know that there's a spare tire AND a tire iron AND a car jack all under my trunk? i know! i didn't believe it either. that would be a good way to smuggle drugs.) b. i am not a married young whippersnapper. c. i rinsed my hair with vinegar this morning. d. i bought a new perfume to cancel out my new vinegar aroma. e. my three day stint as potifar's wife in the high school musical will forever, in local circles, live in infamy. (my potipher's wifey scene was recently put in someone's wedding video. i jest not.) f. oprah whinfrey is the number one pop icon. (obviously. i watched oprah religiously when i was 15. she is wise.) g. i finally understand this quote: "i've got a fever and the only prescription? more cow bell."

um... hypothetical situation... let's say you're a creepy guy. and you're wandering around provo at 12:30 at night. and you see a girl scrubbing her kitchen and airing out her apartment. let's say you go and stand in her doorway. and you startle her. and you start talking to her. and you sing a "negro spiritual" you wrote, to her. and the melody is the same as the theme song to "MASH". let's say that she continues to scrub the kitchen. and she keeps on saying things like, "well it was nice to meet you." and "i hope you have a nice night." let's say that you refuse to leave. and you stay. and you stay. and you stay. let's say that you stay until she can take it no longer. and so she says, "well, maybe the next time you're wandering around writing songs and i'm having a late night scrub session we'll run into each other." and you take that to mean: "i want you. i need you

i don't know whether or not i'm having a good day today. i'll give you the facts in a cold, analytical manner. then you decide... fact #1: i'm wearing dark red lipstick. fact #2: my mom called me to tell me our dog has a genetic blood disease. fact #3: i lost 2 lbs during my road trip. fact #4: i have a very large, chocolatey cake in my kitchen which i'm supposed to save until friday. fact #5: i just remembered that last night someone told me i look like woody from "toy story". in any case, i've decided to go get mexican food tomorrow for lunch. whether i go to los hermanos, corenas, or su casa is yet to be determined by what kind of day i decide i had.

honestly, i'm stressing out. i don't like transition periods. i have no idea what i'm doing next year. i know all the things i'm not doing. ya, there are a lot of things i'm very much not doing. there's so much that happened to me last year, that really i'm not going to ever tell most people about, but it effected me in a lot of ways. i got really restless, and found myself discontented with everything i was doing. so i stopped doing everything. however, i failed to realize that ceasing to go one direction doesn't necessarily push you in another direction, much less the right direction. so here i sit. like a duck. like a bored, restless duck. i have a lot of options. but again, none of them seem right. nothing seems like the right direction. i'm sitting here listening for the click. but sadly, no click. no light bulb. no nothing. man, what if there's never a click? i'm not sad. i'm just impatient, and a little ridiculous because

ok. i started reading this article online fully intending to mock it, but now i've decided it's completely valid. it has to be written by a woman. a woman who i could be friends with. best friends with... THE PROPER EXECUTION OF THE FIRST KISS "Some guys have a natural, effortless mastery with women, but they are a minority. And most of the guys who are highly skilled and confident with women aren't usually motivated to take the time and caring to help other men become more successful with women. The way most of us learn how to "do it right" is by trial and error -- lots of error and always on trial. All right Clint. Here is some priceless information that will make a big difference for you. The number one rule of proper first kiss execution is certainty that you have built a strong sense of comfort with your date before you make your move. She doesn't have to be in an altered state of blissful romantic anticipation, but she must feel physically

ok... i can't hold it in any longer. people need to grow up before they start dating. they need to get some self confidence. and some patience. people are messing up! everywhere i look! and i just want to shake them, shake them all and tell them to go to their rooms and think about what they're doing. here are the new restrictions on dating. for the love people! if you are constantly looking for someone better to date, looking to trade up... you should NOT be in a relationship. if you see yourself as constantly being wronged by the opposite sex... you should NOT be in a relationship. if you're attracted to a person's independence but are upset when that person doesn't need you... you should NOT be in a relationship. if you are freakishly preoccupied with how much a person likes you, rather than how much you like them... you should NOT be in a relationship. if you aren't happy... you should NOT be in a relationship. if you have a history of ch

this has nothing to do with anything. i just thought it was funny... "sunday, september 23, 2001 ...after sacrament, the durr boys went to sit by their family. W sat next to the random girl sitting with the durr family. i assumed it was a new beehive. i thought it was nice of him to fellowship the young beehive aged girl. during the talks i noticed that W was cuddling with the young girl, however the durr family didn't look shocked. it comes to this... W's... dating... a 12 year old!! i sat on the stand wondering if the congregation could see my ego deflating. apparently i am the most unattractive, undesirable woman on the planet. boys who've been rejected by every other woman they've met choose to date junior high students over me. gaaa! i'm repulsive. i must lose 5 pounds immediately. after sacrament the girl disappeared. i can only assume she went to primary."

i am not a member of the cool club, but i do have a subscription to the newsletter. here's this month's featured article. i feel this is worth sharing.. July 2003 To All Members, To minimize the recent confusion which has run rampant amongst society of late, we have compiled a brief list of common "anti-cool" behavior. We readily acknowledge the irrelevant and repetitive appearance of said list to our members, and hope that the standards stated in it will be spread to those whose behavior necessitate an intervention. Cool: Making a joke. Hard to Forgive: Laughing at your own joke. Unpardonably Lame: Laughing so hard at your own joke that you somehow hit your head on a water glass. Cool: Spending the day at the beach. Hard to Forgive: Wearing a bikini. Oh! and you're 60. Unpardonably Lame: Yelling at a cop for not letting you, your husband, and possibly your young kids drink the beer keg you brought. Cool: Seeing your neighbor at Disneyland with h

when i'm blue there are two things i do to cheer myself up (besides having a massive chocolate binge)... #1 i go to the pet store and play with the puppies. #2 i go to my home ward and hang out with the youth. i just spent three days and two nights doing #2. i'm very happyfor you see it turns out that i'm a thin, super model/ pop star, who needs neither make up nor a comb. every muscle in my back is relaxed, as i apparently need to be nurtured and massaged non stop, even while walking across the plains. i'm also ready to collapse. and quite frankly my neck has been rubbed raw. i would really like to sleep for several years now. wake me up when i'm 40.

time to trek. oh! and relax on the beach. are you guys gonna miss me? i bet you'll miss me.

yesterday, blogspot was my only friend. i was bordering on obsessed, and i'm hoping that none of you have site meters. before you pass judgement on me, let me just say that i was really bored yesterday. so bored, and lazy, and migrainey that the idea of leaving my apartment caused me physical discomfort. and also, before you start humming the police's "i'll be watching you" stalker song to me, i want you to know that i've placed restrictions on myself today. and i also have big plans to get real friends today, even though i'll most likely talk to them in comment form ("'lol... that story made me laugh out loud. you rock my world.' posted by kat on 6/17/03 at 1:03 pm."). i hear real people can be nice too, even though they tell you that they like your "crazy hair" ("is it CRIMPED?!"), and explain that you'd be a demanding girl friend. and even though they take you away from your real friends on blogspot. so ple

why ? why ?!?! i mean really what's the point! i am a stupid, STUPID person. i can't believe i thought that living in provo would be a good idea. clearly i should've stayed in salt lake! it's so clear !! and liz, you should've stayed in salt lake with me. hind sight is 20/20 . why do the fates conspire against me? WHY ?!?!?! i never should've quit su casa . **ok. maybe this will help. david boreanaz went in and ate at su casa. sigh... liz's older sister waited on him. sigh... does this make more sense now?

i've run out of things to say. i blame summer.

thus endeth the blogger marathon.

how much does a man live, after all? does he live a thousand days, or one only? for a week, or for several centuries? how long does a man spend dying? what does it mean to say "for ever"? pablo neruda

sigh... sometimes i want to go up to people who are frustrating me, grab them by the shoulders, shake them, and say, "will you just be normal?!" i think someday i will go on a shaking spree. who knows. it could be a good thing.

i think i might be growing as a person... wait, no. i'm just hungry.

"i'm, i'm so in love with you. whatever you want to do is alright with me, cause you make me feel so brand new and i want to spend my life with you. they say it seems, baby, that since we've been together, loving you forever is what i need. let me be the one you come running to. i'll never be untrue. oo baby, let's, let's stay together. loving you whether, whether times are good or bad, happy or sad. whether times are good or bad, happy or sad. why, somebody, why people will break up and turn around and make up, i just can't see. you'd never do that to me, would you baby? being around you is all i see, is what i want to do. yes, we ought to stay together. loving you whether, whether times are good or bad, happy or sad. c'mon, let's, let's stay together."

what do you call your "hip hop" dancing when you're not "hip"?

did you know that raucous and ruckus, while very similar, are not the same word? it's true. one is pronounced rAWkus while the other is pronounced rUHkus. one means loud and boisterous, while the other one... well... pretty much means the same thing. but they are NOT the same word. raucous... and ruckus... ya... i don't care either.

"as i emerged from my bath daniel was lying on the bed giggling, 'i've got a new diet for you,' he said. 'so you do think i'm fat.' 'ok, this is it. it's very simple. all you do is not eat any food which you have to pay for. so at the start o the diet you're a bit porky and no one asks you out to dinner. then you lose weight and get a bit leggy... and people start taking you out for meals. so thne you put a few pounds on, the invitations trail off and you start losing weight again.'" bridget jones's diary

do you think moths can be trained? since these moths insist on remaining in my apartment, they could at least learn how to fetch.

oh shoot. a shameful memory from my less self assured past. one time on oprah a top model scout explained that only cute, little, turned up noses were acceptable. so every night before i fell asleep i would do nose exercizes. i did them for about 8 months. sadly, all my hard work was in vain. my nose refused to be cute, little, and turned up. and thus we see what is to blame for my lack of super modeldom. i know. it's very sad. oh! i also used to pull my hair at night because i thought it would make it grow faster.

"in each of life's events we have emotions, thoughts, desires, and eventually actions. it is the expression of that process that we call self revelation." it's probably wrong of me to always need "self revelation" from everyone. i'm bad at it myself. but i'm working on it. really.

it's blogger MARATHON day!!!! come spend a day in kat's head... i know this is random, but last night someone said something that reminded me of an article i read about meekness. the spanish translation of meek is "manso". something which is manso isn't unassertive or placid, but obedient and fearless. last night i remembered that i would like to be manso, "strong, enthusiastic, talented, spirited, zealous." quick to do what i should. ya. that would be pretty great.

let's say that you are taking a nap. and let's say that you wake up. and you go to fhe. and everyone is really nice to you. and they ask how you are doing. and then you say that you are "good". and then they say, "no... really. you can tell me." and so you think everyone really really cares about you. and then let's say that you look in the mirror. and you see your red eyes and smeared make up. and then you know the truth.

...i think i'm hung over.

dear guardian angel, i think your job would be a lot easier if you didn't have to deal with my whiney, irrational mood today. here are a few simple things you could do to get me back into my usual cheerful form... please stop christina aguillera from blaring over the pool intercom about how she is beautiful no matter what i say. coerce somebody somewhere to answer a phone so that i can buy a ticket to see the foo fighters tonight. give me two excedrin and jumbo sized mountain dew. let me win the bonnet battle with my mom. i swear, if you help me through this i'll never ask for anything again. love, kat. p.s. i know i just said that thing about never asking for anything again, but if you could somehow send christian bale to my doorstep i'd really appreciate it. p.p.s. oh! and i'd also really like a job. p.p.p.s. and the ability to fly.

best veggie pizza EVER!!!: pizza pipeline best ice cream creation: the chocolate blast best musical: "singing in the rain" best quote of the week: "that waiter spells his name 'rian' with an 'i'... that really bugs me." best pet: sadie best recent pop release: "miss independent"

to: the guy who started kissing the picture of me wearing a blonde wig... although i appreciate your support, at this point in my life i see your actions not as a compliment but as encouragement to remain a brunette. to: the not-so-young man who said he could only think of two nice things to say about me... wow. that's twice as many as i can say about you. to: the person who repeatedly groped me at the pool during a friendly game of "power ball"... that's not what i meant when i said it was a "full contact sport". to: the man driving the very nice, very loud motorcycle very fast, who took the time as he was passing my car to give me the upward nod... wear a helmut. to: the guy who said that hating me was so last year... bite me. to: the young man who was supposed to have moved to idaho but instead quit his band, bought a dirt bike, remained in orem, and tried to visit me the other day... thank you for your phone call. you can't

did i mention that "the ramos" was gonna take me to hawaii with him and his family? he had an extra ticket... or at least he did until his brother decided to take the ticket. hmph... stupid brother. no paradise for kat. but that reminds me of when i was a little kid playing at my grandmother's house and it was all rainy and i was incredibly bored, so i decorated a corner of her living room so it resembled my 5 year old mental image of what a tropical paradise should be. then i put on my swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and layed in the corner exclaiming "my, it's so hot out here today." maybe that's what i need to do all next week. ya. that would totally be the same as hawaii. stupid brother.

i don't know a lot. but the random tidbits that i do know have come in pretty handy this past week... -sometimes i shouldn't say words. -james has uncanny timing. -big girls don't cry (even when elbowed in the nose). -brother howlett is evil... pure evil. -ants don't die, so you might as well name and befriend them (so far i've got rufus, treeny and todd, and li'l moe). -my dad, the kindest person in america, deserves all the good things that come to him. -liz on lortab is f-u-n, fun. as you see, the information is useless to anyone who isn't me. that makes me feel special. like i have magic powers. oh!! p.s. i love you guys!!

Willow takes off her pack, reaches in and pulls out a banana. Willow: (with resolve) I'm eating this now. (daringly) It's not lunchtime, I don't even care. Before she can begin peeling it, Buffy and Xander walk up to her. Buffy: Hey. Xander: Willow, did you remember to tape Biography last Friday? Willow: (absently) Uh-huh. (struggles with the banana) Buffy: (to Xander, proudly) See, I told you. Old Reliable. Xander nods and smiles. Willow is not amused. Willow: (sourly) Oh, thanks. Buffy: (taken aback) What? Willow: 'Old Reliable'? Yeah, great. (reprovingly) There's a sexy nickname. Buffy: Well, I-I didn't mean it as... Willow: No, it's fine. I'm 'Old Reliable'. Xander: She just means, you know, the geyser. You're like a geyser of fun that goes off at regular intervals. Willow: (disgustedly) That's Old Faithful. Xander: Isn't that the dog that, that the guy had to shoot... Willow: (incensed) That's

i've been really tired for the past week. i'm not gonna lie to you i'm afraid to feel well rested. what if i actually start remembering where i've put things? i'm going to think i'm psychic... "man! where are my keys?... (as though receiving revelation) in my pocket... (as i reach into my pocket and pull my keys out)... HOW DID I KNOW THAT?!?!"

my mom and dad got engaged 28 years ago this month. they met at a single's ward activity. my dad said that he fell in love with her while they were playing "fruitbasket". they dated for 3 years, and broke up about 20 million times. my dad would sporadically take my mom for walks around the capitol building and have dtr's, and then he'd dump her... or she'd dump him... or somebody would dump somebody. and then they'd get back together. that seems like torture to me. all of it. it's also the reason why i hate going for walks, having dtr's, and playing "do you love your neighbor" (the "fruitbasket" of our time). the way i figure it, falling in love and having a family had better be the BEST THING EVER. otherwise it's not worth it.

i had one of those conversations tonight where i wanted so much to make that person feel better, but i didn't know how. i hate seeing people lose hope. i hate that this particular person lost hope because of things done by people i love. i need to be more thoughtful and careful of how i treat people. i also had a conversation today with the coolest old lady in the hospital waiting room. her name was nola, and she's a feminist/artist/nonmusician. she was wearing a pair of blue toe socks with some red flip flops. she likes to ski and rollerblade. i think she just might be my hero.

"it's hard for me to say anything cool, or witty, or at all. i can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then i have to go away." sigh. it's true. especially in awkward situations. why? because i don't hide my emotions well. that reminds me of another quote... "happy, smile. sad, frown. use the corresponding face with the corresponding emotion!!"

for the past week or two, i've been thinking about choices. president hinckley said, "the course of our lives is seldom determined by great, life-altering decisions. our direction is often set by the small, day-to-day choices that chart the track on which we run. this is the substance of our lives- making choices." for the past year i've forgotten how important it is for me to actively make choices. i'm indecisive by nature, and a lot of times i sit and wait passively to see what happens. i suppose that's in and of itself a decision, but not a good one. it's not alright. i regret so much of the past year. i regret the many, many non choices i made... and i hate regretting. when i read that quote by president hinckley, it made me remember the perspective i used to have on agency. i've been trying to put it back into practice. for the past weeks, i've been actively choosing what i do and how i do it. it's so good. i feel like i'm making t

sigh... it's an end of an era... i watched the series finale of "buffy" tonight. i'm not ok with it. "buffy" has been my constant in a world filled with chaos. friends come and go. classes, apartments, pets, boys, everything comes and goes, but "buffy"... well, "buffy" was my constant. one question keeps running through my mind: "what am i supposed to do now?" i'm depressed. at least i still have "angel" and "buffy: season three" on dvd. nope. still depressed. at least there will be repeats all summer. and maybe a spin off? sigh... i need some chocolate.

last night i had a dream that i was a star soccer player. it was all in the style of "bend it like becham". i was running all over, kicking like a maniac, and had actual coordination. oh! and did i mention that i had a really cute coach with an irish accent? i woke up feeling really invigorated, until it hit me... i don't play soccer. i'm not athletic. i have the coordination of a 4 year old child. but maybe things can change. maybe i have a bunch of latent athletic potential in me somewhere. or maybe not. we were gonna play volleyball for fhe tonight, and as we walked off together mike threw a ball at me. i watched it intently as it came towards me. i admired what a perfect parabola it was making. i wondered why mike was playing with such a flat ball. then as i walked past the ball, and mike, and david h., i said, "kat doesn't catch." which i don't. my attractive, irish, dream coach made me forget. i walked past the ball, mike, david hardie, and the

i went and saw the lunar eclipse tonight. i'd never seen a lunar eclipse before. i was very excited. i had a lot of fun. everyone was acting freakish (including me). i blame the moon... or lack of moon... or moon with earth shadow on it. hehehe... lunar eclipses are fun. buffy question: what would happen to oz during a lunar eclipse?

today i want a band aid to cover the scratch on my arm. the normal band aids aren't big enough but i don't think my scratch (tang called it an "abrasion" but i don't know what that means. sounds way too serious and technical for my purposes) necessitates the use of a butterfly bandage or even worse... gauze. i found a little booklet (or would it be pamphlet?) in a first aid kit and i hoped maybe i'd find a chart telling me what size band aid to use. rather than a handy band aid chart, there's a step-by-step guide to first aid. it was all fun and games while i read about dressing wounds, and sun burns, and how you need to stay calm while you "assess the situation" since victims need psychological support. but then we moved on to third degree burns, and heat stroke, and compound fractures with bones sticking out, and cpr, and now i'm anything but calm. uggghhh... i hope i never have children because they'll inherit my clumsiness, and someda

when i was little, i had quite a few hiding places. i knew all the little bug free corners around my neighborhood. it might stem from the fact that i liked to play hide and seek, or maybe that i convinced myself that those places were mine and mine only. back to my point. i liked to hide. i like to hide. i believe that running away and hiding is a good thing. still.

last night while i was doing an indiana jones moves under brother howlett's garage door, i just wanted to be reading my jane austen book. and when brother howlett sprayed us with a hose, i wanted to be eating cake. when i was climbing up a pile of logs and jumping over a fence, i wanted to be in bed. as we sped off in our get away car i realized that i've hit a whole new level of evil. hijinks have become a chore. an obligation. a responsibility. i must be an evil genius because last night, when liz got angry at me for switching sides, i defended myself by saying that i was trying to keep everything fair. i mean sure i'm evil, but that's no excuse for poor sportsmanship.

the other day i was browsing the candy aisle at walmart trying to find the perfect item to satisfy my chocolate craving. as i walked back and forth along the aisle, i noticed a little old man studying the candy just as intently. i realized that the little old man and i were doing the exact same thing. and that's when it hit me... i'm going to get old. i'm going to get OLD!! i'm going to be wandering around walmart trying to find a caramelo, only they won't make it anymore because i'm so OLD!! then i started to hyperventillate. then i grabbed two very large chocolate bars and ran.

my first entry of may. i feel like i should attempt to make it inspirational... or witty... or something. but i have nothing to tell. nothing. that's kind of sad. i've been typing this blogspot pretty steadily for more than 6 months now, and i have a sneaky suspicion that i've run out of anecdotes to tell. oh dear. this is getting ridiculous. maybe i should just recap... i'm kathryn. i like dancing, "buffy the vampire slayer", flowers, chocolate, running into things (i actually don't like it but i tend to do it a lot), and summer. i don't like bowling, being tall, people thinking i'm mean or stupid, and winter. there you have it. and while i'm on this recapping kick, let me just say that i'm NOT insincere. i AM overly sensitive. i'm NOT immature. i AM egocentric. i'm NOT vain. i AM weird. i'm not strong or motivated or mean or thoughtless or manipulative or brave or uninhibited or audacious or abrasive. i'm just kat.

a conversation i had yesterday... person: where's liz? me: i don't know. person: is she in her apartment? me: i don't know. person: why did you buy artichokes at the grocery store? me: i don't know. person: how do you cook them? me: i don't know. person: where's that fella of yours? me: i don't know. person: how are things going with him? me: i don't know. person: how was "american idol"? me: i don't know. person: you don't know very much. me: ...i know.

i used to think i was a social person. oh no! turns out i was acting under a misapprehension. i am not a social butterfly type person. i am a recluse. all day today i've been doing everything in my power to get a little alone time. EVERYTHING!! i just want to sit on the couch and read my book, but people keep on coming over. i went so far as to lock the door, but i didn't have the heart to ignore the constant knocking. i feel that i can type this entry without worry because i can say without hesitation that i would love a day long visit from every single person i know who might read this. to all of you i say, help me. help me!! take me somewhere. somewhere quiet. please... please.

my parents took a vacation to las vegas and stopped in provo on their way home. as they peeled themselves out of the car we had the following conversation... mom: hi me: hi. how was the trip? mom: good. you'll never guess who we saw. me: who? mom: guess. me: sigfried? mom: no me: roy? mom: no. me: one of the tigers? mom: this is someone you care about. me: in las vegas? mom: your dad took a picture with them. me: oh. who? mom: sarah michelle gellar me: ...no. mom: yes. me: no!! mom: yes. me: wow... just...i...who...wha..wow. cool story, right? my mom and dad met the star of "buffy". but then later, when i was bragging about it to emily, i noticed my mom chuckling... me: what? mom: nothing. me: you did see buffy, right? mom: yep me: and dad had his picture taken with her, right? mom: yep. she's doing her fighting pose. me: cool. you guys are so cool. i didn't used to think you guys were cool, but this has completely changed my mind. i just want you both to know tha

apparently the color that best represents me is... "Champagne A sophisticated soul like you is best matched with a classic color that's always tastefully chic. That's why Champagne is your perfect pairing. You're probably known for your impeccable taste in everything from clothes to music to restaurants. And it wouldn't surprise us if you also had an unparalleled ability to know just what to say or do to handle almost every situation gracefully. Don't get the idea that your simple elegance ever makes you boring: You've got a charming flavor that makes others hang on your words to the last drop — and you're not afraid to let your bubbly personality sparkle. Sure, you may get teased at times for your love of life's finer things, but you've got diplomatic skills that are likely to take you far, both in social, and professional, situations. So here's to you, Champagne. Cheers! "

i function so much better in the summer. i'm seriously considering hybernating next winter. summer kat is happy and friendly and easy going and sunshiney. winter kat is grouchy and over sensitive and always hungry and unmotivated. summer kat is good. winter kat is evil. this may sound a little extreme but... well... it should, because it is a concept which is both extreme and complex. i am a very complex person. sometimes i'm good, and sometimes i'm evil, and sometimes i'm... well there's really just the two. you get my point though, don't you?

i wanna be part of the club . can i play guys? can i?!

...for showing me this .

i've come to the conclusion that my guardian angel was working overtime today. picture this, i went swimming with em this evening. at one point, after having raced, i stood in the shallow end and talked to emily. i splashed my hands in the water lazily, enjoying the beautiful spring day. eventually i looked down and realized that i was enjoying the spring air a little too fully as my swimsuit top had completely fallen down to my belly button. i screamed and pulled my swimsuit back up only to find that is had disintegrated and i was essentially wearing toilet paper. here's where my guardian angel came to the rescue. even though she'd been busy all day keeping me sane, she still had the energy at this very auspicious moment to somehow distract the entire villa, thus saving me from pure mortification. i don't know what she did, but for those 30 seconds NOBODY in the entire world was looking at me. tomorrow i go swim suit shopping.

life doesn't get any better than this .

after having a family lunch on sunday, everyone gathered in the living room to watch the final session of general conference. everyone that is, except for my grandmother who was hard at work scrubbing the kitchen. i wandered back into the kitchen and offered to do the dishes so that grandma could listen to president packer speak about the grandparents in the church. this is how my conversation with grandma went... me: hey grandma, why don't you go listen to president packer. i can wash these. grandma: no, no. i should do it. me: it's no problem. g-ma: no. me: but you can go and listen and i can do the dishes. g-ma: no. you need to hear the talk. me: i can hear it from in here. g-ma: no. me: (trying to get in front of the sink) here. just let me have the wash cloth... g-ma: NO! (i grab the wash cloth, but she doesn't let go) me: grandma, come on. just give me the wash cloth! g-ma: NO!! (i try and pull the wash cloth away, but she refuses to let go, and starts to shove me out

i think billy blanks might be evil. i lost my taebo video about 7 months ago and rather than find it i just haven't exercised for about 7 months. but then a couple of months ago my roomates all got gym passes and so i've been feeling very guilty. finally, yesterday i went to walmart and bought a new taebo dvd. to reward myself for such good intentions i also bought " angel " season one on dvd. it seemed only fair. the taebo dvd is very exciting because it has an instructional portion, a beginning workout, and advance workout, and an 8 minute workout. i opted for the advanced... again i say, i think billy blanks might be evil. he has this minion who is particularly threatening. this little 76 year old woman. it's INSANE! she never stops. she kicks and kicks and then punches and punches and then kicks and punches. the 76 year old lady kicked my trash. especially when it came to sit ups, billy went and grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her into the air and she sta

10. i run into things... a lot. 9. i think tap dancing is cool. 8. i do funny voices for my pets (and sometimes for young children). 7. i have all the songs from "newsies" memorized. 6. i think that having a regular exercise regime means sitting on the couch, eating cereal, and watching "taebo" three times a week. 5. did i mention that i run into things a lot? i mean a lot. 4. i watch "golden girls" 3. i'm on the slim fast diet. i eat slim fast with every meal. 2. i have no sense of smell. 1. i have every single episode of "buffy the vampire slayer" recorded and catalogued

hoorah!!

i was such a girly little girl. i know, i know, it's hard to believe since i'm so tom boyish now, but it's true. i played with barbies everyday. my barbie collection was emaculate. my favorite thing to do was to dress them up and get them ready to go on dates with the few obligatory ken dolls i owned. i would spend hours getting them ready, so that by "date time" i was completely spent and ready to go play tag with the neighborhood kids. i miss barbie time, making barbie look stylish and irresistible to ken. sigh... although, now that i think about it i've actually become my own barbie doll, not in the sense that i'm blonde or insanely proportioned or made of plastic or created by mattell, but i do have a lot of fun getting ready for dinners, activities, dates, church, everything. i wonder if this is abnormal. no, i don't think it is. i think barbie promoted this characteristics in a lot of little girls. i see it manifesting itself in all my friends wh

1. kind= well… kind. 2. nice= kind. but no sense of humor. 3. sweet= nice + stupid. 4. cool= kind + funny. 5. geek= would be cool if they weren’t always running into things. 6. nerd= kind + smart. 7. dork= laughs harder than anyone else at their own jokes. 8. spaz= loud 9. audacious= a spaz with a dash of coolness. 10. egotistical= looks at themself more than at others. 11. cocky= takes the time to tell you why they look at themself more than at others. 12. jerk= looks at others more than at themselves… so they can laugh at them. 13. slacker= would be motivated if it didn’t require energy. 14. crazy= strange and off putting. 15. creepy= a crazy person trying unsuccessfully to convince you they’re cool. 16. flirt= every conversation is laced with bad sexual innuendo. 17. leery= constantly looks like their thinking something dirty. 18. perfect= spends time making lists. like unto this one.

if i were a superhero i think i'd be “platonic girl”. yep. this whole normal, everyday, byu student thing is all a façade. for all intents and purposes i am platonic girl. with my uncanny ability to stop hormones in their tracks and to cut through sexual innuendo like a knife, i’d be unstoppable. my arch nemesises... umm... nemesi... er... nemesese might try and set traps for me, but since i'm blivious to all signals given off by the opposite sex i'd never fall for them. and to be perfectly honest, part of being platonic girl means not realizing the existence of any would be nemesis. you might wonder, “how does platonic girl save the world?” she doesn’t. i mean you can’t have everything.

i know everyone makes fun of the phrase "ignorance is bliss", but last night at around 2:45am i decided that i'm a lot more blissful when i don't know things about people. knowledge is power, and power turns me evil. plus, the stuff i learn about people a lot of the time proves to be very much skewed. oh! and i've also decided that instant messaging can go to the bad place way to quickly and easily, so i'm going to disconnect it for awhile and see how it goes. i like talking to friends face-to-face better, as they are very attractive and delightful. that's all.

i think it's ridiculous that i've had the same insecurities for years and years, mostly because they all came from random comments given to me through the years. i guess i just assume that when it's given randomly, it has validity. here, let me give you some examples... *the year? 1989. the instigator? my mom. what was said? "you should always have bangs because you have a high forehead" the result: i had bangs until i was a senior in high school in an attempt to cover my freakishly big forehead. then, one day i looked in the mirror and realized that i don't have a big forehead, at all. i don't know what my mom was talking about, and yet, to this day, i still have to have hair in front of my forehead. *the year? 1995. the instigator? a random boy in my choir class. what was said? "man! you're like a bean pole!! move so i can see!!" the result: let's get one thing straight, this isn't the first time i'd realized i was tall. it wasn

i wrote this about a year ago when the idea of being in a relationship terrified me and (even though i'm dating a very nice boy at the moment who is most definitely not the reason for writing this) i think it still holds true... REASON #73: i have yet to met a man who loves both rogers and hammerstein musicals and “buffy.” REASON #456: you have to say you’re sorry when you’re not. REASON #103: you have to rub their back during sacrament meeting. REASON #7: i don’t care what anyone says, boys are sensitive like unto girls. ultra sensitive to what you say, do, and, most especially, don’t do. REASON #97: i’m high maintenance. any girl worth knowing is. REASON #946: when guys are mad or hurt, what they call handling their pain in a strong, silent, manly way, is actually just pouting. REASON #20: as there are only 24 hours in a day you tend to phase out your friends. let’s see… I sleep for 8 hours each day, go to class for an average of 3 hours a day, do homework for another 3 (ok, 1) h

a story about the first time i was hit on when i was 13 and playing at the deseret gym... on the last day of 8th grade i went with some of my friends to the deseret gym to go swimming and celebrate summer freedom. i was playing basketball when all of a sudden i was accosted by two men. this was our conversation... creepy guy #1: hey there (said in a creepy tone, which i'd never heard before.) me: hi. am i doing something wrong? cg#1: on the contrary. me: (very confused) umm... ok. cg#1: so, do you come here a lot? me: to the gym? cg#1: yes me: no cg#1: oh. me: are you ok? cg#1: what's you're name? me: kathryn peterson cg#1: i'm creepy guy #1 (i don't remember his name. for the love, it was almost 8 years ago) me: it's nice to meet you. cg#1: how old are you? me: 13 cg#1: 13?! me: (scared) uh hu cg#1: no way. me: way cg#1: i thought you were, like, 17!! me: ok cg#1: hey! creepy guy #2, come here!! cg#2: what's up. cg#1: how old do you think she is? cg#2: like

this morning i woke up and my hair had not changed at all from last night. it was amazing. maybe it was the pommade, or the hair spray, or the red goo, or all of the above, but my dredlocks were still perfectly in place. it seemed a shame to wash it all out and go back to hair that moves and doesn't have red goo in it. i felt like a quitter.

i hate that i tell people things. for the past 2 years i've been making a concentrated effort to NOT gossip. i was doing really well until my friends and family started to get offended when i wouldn't tell them things. so then i reached a compromise where i have me "core" group of people who i tell everything to. there are two problems... #1- it's a flood gate, and #2- i don't know who's in my core group and who isn't and i end up telling friends things which i instantly regret. so i've been trying to go back to my "don't tell nothin' to nobody" rule, not very successfully. last night my mom told me that i just need to learn who i can trust. she's right. but she also only knows my dad, my grandmother, and my dog. until i have a dog and a husband, i have to figure out who i can trust through trial and error. i've made lots of errors in the past few months. sigh. don't tell nuthin to nobody, don't tell nuthin to nobo

(this blog is inspired and written for spencer's benefit) i had an instant messaging discussion last night about smoothness. i don't believe it exists outside the movies. when a guy/girl acts smoothly, it's just that, acting. everyone is unsure about how to act around the opposite sex. what it comes down to isn't how smooth you can be but how smooth you can act (this is reminding me about my "poise" theory from the other day). maybe i'm wrong. maybe there are truly smooth people walking amongst us every day, completely sure of themselves, but i've never met them (and am most definately not one of them). plus, i feel a lot better believing that my freakishness is the standard, not the exception.

today i was walking to class and i saw a boy who i accidentally "stood up" two years ago. ever since then when i see him on campus, he focuses a bit too intensely on the side walk in front of him. today i would not be ignored. it was great. very great indeed.

i took dance lessons for 13+ years. in all that time i don't think i learned much about dancing but since i was such a shy, insecure kid, those dance lessons taught me how to make it through some pretty embarassing moments. there is no way that any teen can have any real confidence while they're doing a solo as the wicked queen in a production of "snow white", wearing a shiney purple unitard. but that's where "poise" comes in. i think i've decided that poise is actually just fake confidence. 13 years of dance lessons and essentially i learned how to wear a big smile and not fidget while i was humiliating myself. i need to start taking dance lessons again, because i suspect that i've lost all my poise. sigh. if only you guys knew.

if i did everything i was supposed to do each day, i would have no time for my favorite things (re: eating, sleeping, staring at my bedroom wall, and shenanigans in general). in an attempt to become the motivated "working machine" i know i am deep down, i wrote up a schedule for this week. it's horrible. there's no way i can get everything done. i need about 5 extra hours every day. i need a miracle. this morning the old adage "if you want something hard enough and your heart is pure, wonderful things can happen" proved true once again, because i slept through my alarm (it's a miracle!). this gave me ample time to eat, sleep, stare at the wall, etc. oh! and it also gave me time to write this blog. some of you might wonder why i didn't get started on my paper/ photography assignment/ test studying/ spatial drawing/ activity for mom's mutual/ sketchbook/ grocery shopping/ trip to post office/etc. all i can say is, it wasn't in my schedule. p.s.

everyday this very old man takes his very old dog for a walk around campus, and every day at exactly 6 pm at the top of the rb stairs, the very old dog starts barking viciously into the gutter. i kid you not.

i went to salt lake this weekend and came back with the following... 1. 1 box of cheddar fetti crackers 2. 1 box of cheesey whale crackers 3. 1 industrial size bag of chex mix 4. 2 cans of shredded chicken 5. 1 box of ritz assorted flavor crackers 6. 1 $10 bill to be used to buy a healthy lunch (will be used instead to buy taco bell) 7. 1 box of mini peppermint cream oreos. 8. half of a baked potatoe i need never go hungy again.

8 more weeks everyone. only 8 more weeks of school. i can do that. oooo! and i don't have class on fridays so if i ignore all non-class days, i only have 32 more days of school. only 32 more days everyone! and really, i can't count today. 31 more days. just thirty one more days. plus, think of all the time during every day when i'm not in class. only 248 more hours. only 14,880 more minutes. only 892,800 more seconds. 892,799. 892,798. 892,797...

i've been sick for the past week, but apparently not as sick as i look. random strangers have asked me if i'm ok. an old lady gave me kleenex. our maintenance man told me i looked horrible and should go back to bed. so today i am sitting in the computer lab on byu campus with way too much make up on and lunatic hair. this way, if random people ask me if i'm ok, it won't be because i look sick but because i look like a freak. it's good to have things back to normal.

my mom and dad are going through what the understaters of the world would call a "rough time". in my lame attempt to make things better i called them on valentine's day while i was running errands like a mad woman. i tried to talk to my dad, but for the past month every time i talk to him he disappears while i'm midsentence and hands the phone to my mom. not that i blame him, my anecdotes are hard to sit through. the most pathetic part of all is that every time i hang up the phone, i feel guilty. my parents are going crazy and i'm running around provo playing, and watching movies, and focusing entirely on myself. i guess you could say that i feel bad for not feeling bad enough. do you see what i mean? pathetic. i know that a lot of my problem is simply me not dealing. whenever stuff like this happens i try and ignore it, not care about it, and wait patiently for it to go away. but then that apathy spreads into all aspects of my life. i stop caring about classes, a

the way i see it, i am a genius at exactly 2 things... #1 quoting adam sandler movies, and #2 procrastinating. if you ever want to rationalize your way out of doing something- be it homework or errands- come to me and i will help you. i suppose this makes me more of an evil genius. hmmm...

here are the top 10 reasons why i LOVE valentine's day... 10. cinnamon bears 9. valentines with a picture of a train saying, "please choo-choo-choose me" 8. the opportunity to show off my uncanny ability to draw really symmetrical hearts 7. heart shaped, dark chocolate dove promises 6. the general acceptance of me watching corny romantic comedies. 5. the complete ensconcing of the world in red and pink. 4. seeing everyone separate into one of three groups: #1 the gushy "in love" couples, #2 the joy filled, general love effusing type, and #3 the "i'm alone and dwelling in my bitterness" type. all three are delightful in their own way. 3. hearing 80's love songs like "in your eyes" and "lady in red" which remind me of my 8th grade valentine's dance (where i got to slow dance with john, jeff, AND andrew) 2. this 1. RED HOTS!!!!