Thursday, March 27, 2003


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 who have fun dressing themselves and their roomates up. then they get boyfriends and so they dress them up. as time goes on they have fun dressing up their daughters who are dressing up barbies. and thus we see it is a cycle. i just hope i don't end up with all sons because that could get pretty warped, what with me insisting the g.i. joe tuck in his shirt and put on matching shoes.

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

personalities defined

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.

platonic girl

if i were a superhero i think i'd be “platonic girl”. yep. this whole normal, everyday, byu student thing is all a fa├žade. 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.

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

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.

Friday, March 21, 2003


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't the first time i'd been embarassed about it. but it is the first time that i felt freakishly tall, or that being tall was a strike against me. and such began my crusade to deemphasize my freakish height, my collection of flip flops, and my issue where i won't date anyone shorter than me (since short boys would definately not want to date a freakishly tall girl).

*the year? 1996. the instigator? many people. what was said? "hehehe... you play basketball like a ballerina."
the result: i stick to all things dance related.

*the year? 1998. the instigator? mr torgerson (my choir teacher). what was said? (during a final concert to the audience) "i like kathryn because she's tall", (during class) "it takes kathryn longer to stand up because she has further to go", "let's have you guys stand with the tallest in the middle to short on both ends. who can guess where kathryn will go? sigh... maybe we should have her stand in back with the boys", "for this part, let's have kathryn stand up, because everyone will be able to see her, and pretend to get shot and collapse onto the baritones."
the result: i won't sing in choirs (granted that's also because i realized that i can't sing), no matter what.

the year? 2000. the instigator? ummm... let's just call her spliz. what was said? a limerick about my nonexistent chest was emailed to all my friends (to prevent a comment war i will add that we were having a limerick contest, splincoln being the judge. guess which limerick won? that's right.)
the result: although this wasn't even close to being the first time i'd been teased because of a lack of cleavage, again it was the first time i felt freakish about it. and i can think of at least one incredibly funny, and yet potentially humiliating experience that happened last summer as an indirect result (that' right spliz!! i blame you!).

the year? 2002. the instigator? he who shall not be named. what was said? "you smell"
the result? just ask my roomates how paranoid i am now with body spray, gum, etc.

the year? 2002. the instigator? the same un-named he. what was said? (grabbing my hips) "check out your love handles. you should start exercising. i don't have any fat anywhere on my body. don't believe me? go a head and grab anywh...OW!! i said grab, not pinch!"
the result: you would think it would result in me doing lots of sit ups, or eating healthy, wouldn't you? but you'd be wrong.

the good part of the story is that for as many random insecurities people give me, there are random compliments that come along... like how my grandmother thinks my eyebrows are perfect, how in 8th grade kate said i reminded her of audrey hepburn, how mandy told me she really liked my nose, how when i was 18 carolyn said she'd never realized how funny i was, how liz, i mean spliz told me i'm striking, how when i was 17 dave had to choose who he thought was the prettiest of all my friends and he chose me (if you saw my friends you whould know the true impact of such a statement), how bryson was obsessed with my stomach, how my dad told me when i was 17 that he didn't understand why i didn't have dozens of boys wanting to date me, how my home ward deacon fan club encouraged me to run for "miss utah", or how my same eyebrow grandmother told me she didn't know what my family would do without me.
so you see, the good far outwieghs the bad.

Thursday, March 20, 2003

too hard

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) hours, spend about 2 hours eating. add to that the time is takes to get ready in the morning, run errands, and drive (or if you’re me, walk) everywhere and you’ve used up about 20 hours. that leaves 4 hours to be divided among family, friends, and leisure. oh wait! you’re dating someone? ok. add another hour to getting ready and you’ve got 3 hours every day which you must spend with that special someone and no one else, in order to prove your undying love and loyalty.
REASON #151: pet names like “pookie”, “honey buns”, and “booboo”.
REASON #699: guys don’t like to talk about their feelings.
REASON #700: and they don’t have an obsession with chocolate.
REASON #701: and they don’t notice when you get your hair cut.
REASON #702: and they don’t know to immediately point out how skinny you look in your new jeans before anything else is said (forcing the dreaded hint, “i look fat in these don’t i?” you see guys don’t understand that a girl takes hesitation to mean that since you couldn’t say anything nice you’re not saying anything at all.)
REASON #3: i quickly dismiss guys who are shorter than me, thinner than me, wear more jewelry than me, laugh when people get hurt, aren’t animal lovers, wear turtle necks, don’t understand sarcasm, aren’t strong in the gospel, aren’t working towards a college degree, don’t laugh at adam sandler movies, do laugh at the three stooges, say the word “ain’t”, have ever made fun of a girl they thought was fat or ugly, swear, drink, smoke, like to argue, have longer hair than me, don’t like my friends, think that sarcasm or wit is when you say something mean and then laugh afterwards, are prettier than me, etc, etc. the list goes on and on thus going back to REASON #97, i am high maintenance.

Sunday, March 16, 2003

a first time for everything

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, 17?
cg#1: she's 13
cg#2: what?!
cg#1: 13.
cg#2: wow. i thought she was like, 17.
cg#1: (turning back to me as i slowly edge away) how old do you think i am?
me: i don't kno-
cg#1: come one! how old do you think i am?!
me: 17?
cg#1: haha... you're great. but really.
me: ummm... 25?
cg#1: close. i'm 32.
me: ok
cg#1: ya, so, what are you doing after you're throu-
me: i have to go now.
cg#1: what?
me: i have to go now. i have some things i need to do so i have to go now.
cg#1: wha-
me: bye.
and then i literally ran away and hid in a raquet ball court for the next half hour. i was completely confused, and scared, and creeped out. still am to this day. two factors continue to disturb me in that scenario... 1.i am not that attractive, and me as a pre teen was even worse, what with the growth spurt and the lack of makeup, a figure, a comb, and good hygeine. 2.the guy was 32, hitting on what he thought was a 17 year old. that's not cool. 32 years olds shouldn't do that. heck, i don't even think 17 year olds should hit on other 17 year olds. it's all very weird. oh! but what's worse is that when he found out i was 13, he didn't stop. ew!
so there you have it. in a way i suppose it was a rite of passage. it ushered me into a whole new era of creepiness. (do you realize that by now creepy guy #1 is 40?!?! it's just so very wrong.)

Saturday, March 15, 2003

hair: so bad, it's good

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.

Friday, March 14, 2003


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 nobody...

Wednesday, March 12, 2003


(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.

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

small world

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.

Monday, March 10, 2003


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.

efficiency, or lack thereof

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. it's warm and sunny outside today!!!!

Tuesday, March 04, 2003


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.

Monday, March 03, 2003


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.