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Showing posts from 2005

work it

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i'm not really in a "christmas with the peterson family" story telling kind of a mood. so here's a picture of my dad, carolyn, and me dancing. and if you don't find it that funny, maybe you should look at it again but this time hum something like "hypnotize" or "let's get it started".

gaaaaaa!

i don't think my title needs any explanation.

ho ho ho

dear family, friends, and other, merry christmas! you all mean so very much to me. and that's why for your gifts this year i've made a donation in your name to the "save kathryn's car" foundation. because it's all about giving, really. love, kat.

tragic

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according to several sources, the ugliest dog in the world died. days before his 15th birthday. may he rest in peace.

get L O S T

this weekend i experienced what will go down in history as the great L O S T athon of 2005. pretty self explanatory, it involved laying on my homemade futon with chocolate mini donettes, diet coke, and my lap top and rewatching the entire first season of " L O S T " in a 72 hour period. sigh... oh, " L O S T ". and i was L O S T . 100% emmersed in the show. and now that i've pretty much L O S T touch with reality in a way that only a person who's been doing nothing but watching fictional characters play gilligan for three days can, let me tell you... sawyer has a very fine abdominal section and i'm glad he's so very proud of it. locke is still creepy. second only to walt. and the french lady. and i'm telling you, the "monster" is something mechanical. the numbers are everywhere. did i mention sawyer's abs? if iraqi soldiers are all like sayid then i don't get how they L O S T the gulf war. michael's totally going to go af

yikes

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there are certain things you can pull off in your youth... that you can't continue pulling off when you're no longer "just a girl"... i don't know why. it's true though. and for the most part i've come to terms with it. i can't dye my hair purple, i can't wear plastic jewelry, and i should probably get rid of a good portion of my t-shirts. but at least i'm not wearing leggings. stupid gwen stefani.

you're fired

stuck in my head: "ice ice baby" by vanilla ice. i'm not proud of it. reason #217 why i wish i'd called in sick today... caught in between two sides of an extremely catty power play. and i've watched "the apprentice" often enough to know that the person who lets themselves get caught in the middle usually ends up being fired.

forget me not

yes. the rumors are true. i forgot my mother's birthday yesterday. i'm pretty sure you can go to hell for something like that. my karma's completely messed up now. on my way to work this morning i HIT A GARBAGE CAN and shattered my side view mirror. something must be done. something drastic. something to reallign the beautiful cosmos of my life. so i've been going through the list of presents i've bought recently but haven't ended up giving people to see what i can give my mother to appease her. trendy bright green necklace? no. wallet with bunny that says "buy me stuff and i'll be nicer"? probably not. darth vader mask? hmm... not bad. a can of chicken and stars soup? perhaps. gift certificate to book store? that actually might work. chocolate, lot's and lot's of chocolate? duh. a kite with a dragon on it? hot chocolate mix? a pair of earrings that broke? my first born?? i'm in so much trouble.

brrr...

stuck in my head: "it's judy's turn to cry" but just the chorus, cuz that's all i know. reason 77 why i hate winter i woke up late, jumped in the shower, jumped out of the shower, threw on some clothes, ran out the door... and died. froze to death. right there. on the sidewalk. i knew this girl (or knew a girl who knew this girl) (or something) who grew up in alaska, and was on the swim team and after practice they'd have to run to the locker rooms with were in a different building. and the girls' hair would freeze. and once another girl karate chopped her frozen hair and it BROKE OFF!

letter from alanis

dear the public , remember when i was all angsty and bitter at canada for turning me into their version of debbie gibson thus compelling me to make a grammy winning, multiplatinum album whose popularity i could never eclipse no matter how reborn and at peace and singing about india i was? ya? well, i don't know that you do remember because i've just been informed that after 10 years, album sales are starting to taper. and that's not going to work for me. there's this little thing called " a lifestyle " which i have become accustomed to- you know, taking trips to asia, heading up anti bush campaigns- and i don't understand why you people refuse to keep me in it. i've tried other methods of appeasing you. remember when i made that video where i was thanking random things and was naked the whole time and on the subway and standing on a corner and everyone was suddenly so thankful for the invention of the blurry dot? and then there was the whole "i&

hmph

the holidays. that most wonderful time of year where you dread getting on the bathroom scale for fear of what you will find there.

rent

broadway musicals inevitabley get made into movies. you get the cheap, homogenized version of an on stage classic. thank goodness. i grew up watching those movies. i love LOVE movie musicals. and maybe most of the energy and performance quality gets sapped out when you watch a actor lip syncing on the big screen. maybe it is kind of annoying when you talk about a beloved musical and someone says, "oh definitely! and minnie driver was great." but i don't live on broadway and i'll take what i can get. that said, i saw "rent" yesterday. growing up it was one of three musicals i wasn't allowed to see. and since i will always feel the need to rebel against my mother in any way i can, i went to see it. and it was fine. mediocre. not very good. but at least i got to see the context of all the songs i've listened to over the years. plus, in the opening scene one of the characters is wearing the exact same outfit that carlton used to always wear on "fre

thanksgiving 2005: adventures in armoury

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crazy cousin once removed: where are the green beans? WHERE ARE THE GREEN BEANS?? great aunt: they're still cooking. ccor: great. GREAT! you make everything you like, but the one thing i want it STILL COOKING!! me: seriously. she's so selfish. great aunt: they'll be done in 5 minutes. ccor: GA A AH! (five minutes later) ccor: FINALLY!! me: it's a good thing you didn't over react. ccor: what? me: no. seriously. you played it really cool. in an attempt to break with tradition , i decided that this thanksgiving i would bond with my cousin. and with the above exception, i pretty much stayed on his good side. i listened to him talk about 'nam. i went with him to walmart and helped him buy a water pik. i admired his gun collection (not a euphemism, so don't even go there ) . and when he said he'd hidden the last gun in his collection upstairs "just in case", i smiled and said, "good thinking". i've turned over a new le

credo

i inevitabley have to deal with people who test my personal credos. especially when my credo is that i should be nice to everyone, no matter what. extraspecially if they come up to my office and say, "um... there's someone in the men's bathroom." and i'm all like, "oh... that's too bad." and they're like, "i really have to go. is there another bathroom?" and i'm all, "well, there's a girl's bathroom on the other side of the factory, but i wouldn't recommend it." and they're all, "i reeally have to go." and i'm like, "hu." and they're like, "so what should i do?" and i'm all, "i guess you just need to summon up all your willpower." and they pause for a second and then they're all, "summon up all my willpower? what does that mean?" and then i decide i've had enough and i turn back to my computer and i say, "that means hold it." i&

ambitious

in my opinion, setting a goal is terrifying. because you might not acheive it. maybe "goal" isn't the right word to use, because i set a lot of goals everyday which i don't keep. and i don't really have a problem with it. i've already made it my goal twice today to "stop with the caffeine already". nope. "goal" isn't the right word to use. but neither is "dream". it's a little too corn bally with a bit of martin luther king jr thrown into the mix. to appease the semanticism of this particular ernie sabella entry let's say this, we all have our ambitions. our mt. everests that we say we're going to climb someday, but pretty much we just day dream about it. turning the whole effort part of it into a happy little mantage in our heads, kind of glossing over the hard work part of it, and mostly thinking about how fun it would be once all the hard work/mantagey stuff is over. and there's nothing wrong with that. ever

sense and sensitivity

today my mom left a message on my phone saying her brother had died. . . . i was not aware that my mom had a brother. and what an inappropriate time to spring that information on me. and then i remembered that i knew she had a brother. and a sister. 2 sisters? maybe even three. and maybe a few more brothers. but step brothers and sisters. or half. i'm not really sure how it works. but they're all my grandmother's age. and i've never met them. well, i met one once. but it was a long time ago and she was old and i thought she was my great aunt. i called my mom back and didn't really know what to say, because i'd never met this step/half brother once removed (can step/half brothers be once removed?). and i don't know how close my mom is to him since i've never known her to call him, or visit him, or write him a note. or really even talk about him except when she would talk to my grandma about how he did geneology and he'd become really really fat. wait

blogettes

dear ernie sabella*, i like being busy. i like, what those of us who speak the chocolate biz lingo refer to as, the busy holiday season. but i don't like that there are things i don't get to blog about when i'm busy... i hate dr. laura. i went to best buy on saturday and insulted salesguy tristan. there is nothing that easy cheese doesn't make better. i tried to take an online quiz about what my political views were, but somehow ended up taking a relationship quiz which said i was "deliberate", "brutal", "a priss", and that i "use sex as a weapon". duh. tell me something i don't know. the third time i bought a diet coke during one guy's shift, he said, "again?" and i said, "apparently there's not enough diet coke in the world to satisfy me today." and he said, "hu. i don't drink soda." and i said, "i don't know how to talk to you." and left. i think this older (the "

power of love

if you're totally busy and you end up taking a late lunch and you're driving along sandhill road around 3:15ish, you might be lusky enough to see my favorite couple. they get around on a skateboard. it's adorable. because tiny blonde girl stands on the front of the skateboard and backwards baseball cap boy stands on the back and pushes and holds tiny blonde girl up. and if you listen close enough you can hear "the power of love" playing in the background. i can't help thinking that the skateboard couple is a metaphor for something. i don't know what.

what happened to miss independent?

she's right here... she's right here. i spent all day yesterday finding, buying, and building A FUTON. it took me all day because i'm very much not good at lifting, loading, reading directions, screwdrivering, and all that jazz. i'd like to give a shout out to walmart's ryan and tyler for trying to shove a box full of futon into my two door car. and i'd also like to explain to 17 year old ryan and married tyler that me asking them when they would be at my apartment to unload, was not a proposition but a joke. but if it hadn't been a joke, tyler, you showed a lot of integrity and ryan, um... thanks? and while i'm dishing out gratitude, thanks to random glasses man for helping me balance the box-o-futon on my cart. and thanks to random buying shampoo girl for helping me steer my cart. and thanks to the family in the mini van for not laughing at me when i tried to go down the ramp and the cart tipped over and the b-o-f rolled out in front of them. and thank

"i was whack." "no, i was whack."

first of all, let me point out that this morning i woke up in a puddle of mattress because my air mattress had sprung a leak at some point during the night. my reaction? hit snooze and try to roll over, and when that proved impossible, shrug. and go back to sleep. i had to go to work without brushing my teeth, because my roomate was in the shower and i was very very late. the last time i went without brushing my teeth was... now let's see... way back in.... oh ya, that's right NEVER! oral hygeine is very important to me. i feel very uncomfortable right now. because i have this obsession with bad breath. so i'm chewing an insane amount of eclipse: polar ice gum and keeping everyone at arms length which, actually, i should have as a work rule anyways, and figuring that i can probably go home to brush during lunch if i skip the lunch part of lunch. anyways, waking up in a destroyed bed... running hideously late to work... that had no effect on my mood, but not brushing my t

odd

dear diary, i went to olive garden last night with my second favorite person ever*. i, of course, spent 10 minutes assuring the seating hostess that she really could do her hair like mine, she just needed a lot of aquanet and a smaller curling iron. and that, no really, that's all she needed. our waiter was odd. now, when i say that i mean that his name was "odd". and also that he acted odd. i've actually had odd as a waiter before. he's reeeally touchy about his name. he doesn't like for you to ask him about it. and when he explains that it's short for "oddysseus" (yes, with two d's) he doesn't like for you to ask him if his parents are into epic poetry. and when he says that actually his parents were bikers, he does not appreciate your snickering. so last night i knew to smile politely, to say that everything he did was perfect, and to not question the fact that he brought six extra forks with our desserts. which i think, all in all,

van down by the river

dear those of you who always thought i could make it as a motivational speaker, this might change your mind. yours, kat. ________________________________ life rarely goes the way i plan it. phew. yet inevitabley i plan. because the way i'm thinking it works is that fate/dumb luck/life require that i make the first move before they can take me in the opposite direction. and i'm also thinking that i can't sit around and wait for things to happen. because then i would be a fatalist and fatalists think that nothing they do matters and they're victims to circumstance. i hate fatalists. even though i think that as a mormon i technically fall into the fatalism catagory. crap.

wrong

listen, i'm not entirely crazy. there are certain impulses that i know deep down are just plain wrong. like how i want to buy cowboy boots. it's wrong. and my desire for a personalized t-shirt that has a cartoon monkey in a school bus on it. so wrong. but then there are times when the wrongness line isn't as clear. like when i propose to the mall ice cream man. er, boy. well, not a boy, but not yet a man. i'd like to think that there's no shame in that kind of whirlwind, chocolate-icecream-brownie-hot-fudge-volcano-centric romance no matter how mrs. robinsonesque it might be. i'd like to think that being invited to his band's nursing home gig that night was nothing but adorable. but because i'm not entirely crazy, i have a nagging feeling that my short lived affair with the icecream manboy was, well, wrongish. man... remember the part about the hot fudge volcano? it's like i was proclaiming on friday, when it comes to the female obsession with chocol

easter bunny

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my work related mental blocks often require that i google image my brains out for new ideas. today i was looking for something old fashionedy . and easter bunnyish. and this is what i found... . . . . . . the picture itself is called "easter bunny from hell". and i cannot stop laughing. hehehe... that poor baby. sigh... that just kills me. who knows what kind of candy labels will come from this.

as per request

in response to nessa's list... 7 things i plan to do before i die own my own business go to europe go skiing get a manicure live outside of utah get my cavity taken care of read les miserables 7 things i can do the splits make candy labels sight read music watch "billy madison" from start to finish in my head say "shut up and kiss me" in 12 languages draw slip through very small cracks in windows 7 things i can not do keep a straight face watch a movie without announcing who the actors are and what else they've been in smell drive the speed limit an even somewhat convincing impression of wayne from "wayne's world" stand still when there's music playing 7 things i find most attractive about the opposite sex kindness sarcasmy sense of humor height big smile unassuming talented motivated 7 things that i say most often "and that's fine" "hey how ya doin' whatchya doin' wh

had to be

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"you're funny ... ...you know, they say pretty women usually aren't funny because they never had to be. were you a fat child?"

not dead yet

back to the land of the living. kind of. normally i wouldn't wear a "wanted: one cute cowboy" hoodie to work. but for the most part it's back to the land of the living. bring it. which reminds me*... i enjoy reading and i mean, really who doesn't? . when people ask me, "so... what do you like to do?" reading usually makes the list, although i wouldn't say i'm well read . ok. i would. if you were a boy. and i wanted to impress you. because you looked like you're into brainy chicks. and i felt like i needed to somehow negate my hoodie. if that happened? i'd say i was well read. but i wouldn't mean it. i'm a slow reader and impatient, so it usually takes 100 pages of forcing myself to focus before i get into a book enough to enjoy it. but then there are the books that make me love reading. a handful of incredible books that i become immediately engrossed in. and all of a sudden i choose reading over tv, or sleep, or staring at a w

last will and testament

i'm dying. this isn't exactly the way i wanted to go, but... you know... it happens. i have pink eye. at age 24. and now i think the pink eye has spread to my throat. and ears. and nose. and brain. in the last hour i've put 5 excedrin, 2 prescription eye drops, a glass of airborne, 20 cookies, a chicken quesadilla, 30 billion mentholated cough drops, and 20 ounces of diet coke into my system. and i just found some old codeine. that'll probably be next. but what i'm saying is... if the codeine doesn't help, i'm going to chop my head off. and in that eventuality, i need to settle a few things... mom, to you i leave all the stuff i've stolen from home over the years. daddy, you can have my laptop so you will no longer need to borrow it and say, "i need to get one of these... how do you turn it on?" liz, my "buffy" dvd's are all yours. lincoln, you get the container of artificial sweetener i stole from chili's. kate, to you i leav

flights of fancy

i fancy myself a moderately healthy person. and by that i mean that i think to myself, "heh, i should so not be eating this" as i shove yet another parmisan cheese pretzel into my mouth. i fancy myself a moderately active person. and by that i mean that i think to myself, "heh, i should so be outside doing something" as i lay on my couch and watch "simpsons". i fancy myself a moderately reasonable person. and by that i mean that i think to myself, "heh, i should so not be freaking out about this" as i pretend to talk on my cell phone so i can leave a room crammed full of my awkwardness and sit in a random bedroom and spend a half hour organizing some playing cards i found on the dresser. a part of me realizes that what i want to be and what i am are two very different things. which is why i'm sincerely glad that the bigger part of me... is delusional.

code

in case any of you were wondering... no, i am not a computer programmer. i don't know html. to me, the inner workings of the internet are better left undelved. just in case anyone was wondering. side note: does anyone like country music? because i suddenly find myself with 2 free tickets to brooks and dunn tomorrow night. who's brooks and dunn?

groan

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my memory is full. i'm bad with names, dates, places, and pretty much everything that has to do with remembering because i've filled up my pretty little head with too much uselessness during high school and college. and now there's no more room for anything new or important. i want to clean out the hard drivein my head. i want to find a way to get rid of the words to the canadian national anthem. i want my 9th grade locker combination gone. the song i played at my piano recital when i was 15, the church's young women's theme, all the episode names to "buffy" seasons 2-6, the code names i gave the boys i liked my sophmore year, the fact that ron howard's brother is in every single one of his movies, the pythagorean theorum, the words to salt n peppa's "shoop"... it can all go. because i have to learn a new program for work. by tomorrow. side note: and to quote my good friend liz , i'd like to give a "good old fashioned 90's st

quarters

a lot of people look to my blog to keep them abreast of today's "hot topics". because i never shy away from controversy. no way. i look controversy straight in the eye and i say, "you don't scare me, bucko." that's right. i hate that there are state quarters. it's idiotic. i was getting a diet coke from the vending machine, as i've done before and as i will do again, most likely very soon, and i grabbed all the change out of my pocket and realized that i was checking the backs of all my quarters so that i wouldn't spend a new one. because should i find a 2005 one, i'm supposed to save it and give it to my mother and grandmother who have these cardboard maps of the u.s. with a space for each state's quarter. luckily i didn't have any new ones. only ohio and connecticut. so i was able to get my soda. in a society that's been known to have a "beanie baby craze" why would our government introduce collectable currency?

mix cd

i leave it to you... best break up songs (sappy, heart break ballads need not apply)

number 300 a.k.a. chicken pot pie

you might ask me why i'm in a good mood today. and i might tell you it's because i get to put all my belongings which i somehow managed to cram into my little two door car (sans the box of cheerios my mom woke me up to remind me to take) into an apartment. an apartment. my apartment. courtesy of this man and his wife. no. more. commuting. and no more exorbitant weekly gas expenditures. (there are way too many big words in that sentence) to show my gratitude to my parents for their patience with my boxes lining their hallways for the last month, i decided to make sunday dinner. chicken pot pie . my own recipe. which i invented. while i was making it. on sunday. now that i look back at it, i think my main weakness with cooking is that i approach it the same way i did when i was ten... if it looks good, throw it in. this is the technique that led to the banana/tang/peanut butter smoothie of '91. and the black bean surprise of '98. i will say this about the chicken pot pi

deleted

every couple of years i go through my cell phone and delete the people i don't call anymore. it's a big event, because i can't help feeling that deleting a phone number is the same thing as deleting a person from my life. and, i mean, really it is the same thing. because i don't have any phone numbers memorized. and i never have the energy to look one up. then, i go through my instant messenger list. and really once you're off of my hotmail contacts list, you're out of my life. this is not something i take lightly. which is why i only do this every couple of years. if i did it any more regularly i'd be a horrible, callous recluse. so, what have we learned today? that i'm not ready for pizza pipeline to be gone from my life.

proof

"lost" is the best show on television. and i intend to prove this statement. but please bear in mind that i haven't taking geometry since i was a freshman in high school and even then, i wasn't good at proofs. given: a group of blog readers with good taste in tv shows. prove: "lost" is the best show on tv. axiom 1: people with good taste want to watch something besides the 5 billion copycat reality shows out there. ("martha stewart's apprentice" theorum) axiom 2: a good non reality tv drama has a lot of intensity, plot twists, and action. ("dallas" theorum) axiom 3: intense situtions are made more intense and believable if the characters are dynamic. (my 11th grade english teacher talking to us about shakespeare theorum) axiom 4: dynamic characters are made more interesting when there's a love triangle. (every movie ever made theorum) axiom 5: especially when there's a bad boy in the love triangle. (han solo theorum) axiom 6:

concession

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ok ok. maybe i've been a bit hastey. maybe utah's autumns aren't all bad. and maybe the indian summer part of utah's autumn is the most beautiful time of the year.

subliminal

this morning, all my stuff had b een moved to another desk. i d o n't know why. i don't r eally care why. they can mov e me to the closet if they want, and my moo d won't change.

batu

if there's anything i've learned from watching "star wars", it's this... everyone needs an obiwan. or a yoda. or even just a mentor. and i have one. batu. seriously, his name was batu. he was my intermediate drawing professor. really all he ever did was compliment my drawings a lot in a really thick mongolian accent. but that's kind of yoda-ish, right? the point is, he made me want to be an artist. later on, i had so many insane professors who told me my contour drawings were not up to par, and i had no handle on what cubism was, and once a professor walked up behind me and said, "gosh! you SUCK today!"... but somewhere in the back of my mind i could here batu saying, "ooooohhhhh.... so beauteefull! so deleecut." it was my own little, "use the force the luke" mantra.

jabber

when i was six years old, i broke my nose. and i when i say i broke my nose, i mean that my sister and i were playing superwoman on our swingset in the backyard and i got swung too high. and when i say that i was swung too high, i mean that my sister laughed diabolically as she swung me higher and higher until i slipped off the swing and fell on my face. but don't feel bad for me because i gave as good as i got. and when i say i gave as good as i got i mean that i have a very distinct memory of rushing at her one time and biting her. hard. awkward. now then... because i have a broken nose, i have a rotten sense of smell. i didn't always know this. until i was 19 years old, i thought i had a normal sense of smell. and when i say i thought i had a normal sense of smell, i mean that i never really had cause to think about it. and when i say i never really had a cause to think about it, i mean that i just assumed everyone else was exaggerating or being over dramatic when the

thinking backwards

but what it all comes down to is that, in the end i can fool my mind, but not my hair. plus the possibility of a muddled, backwards blog. or you might have to put effort into remembering what you're not thinking about , which involves a lot of step retracing and thinking backwards. and experience what people call a pang . you might remember it all of a sudden. but eventually you're going to have to remember what it is you're not thinking about . and worry about them later. and i'm forgetful anyways, so it's really easy to shove things to the back of my mind. especially about things i can't control. because i don't like to be stressed or worried or angry. and 2 nd , it reminded me that i repress things. 1 st , that i might have been more stressed last month than i realized. but their appearance reminded me of two things. they're gone now. *this morning i found 2 grey hairs . *maybe you should start here and read up.

instinct

there is an inate desire deep within us, to not live at home. and if there isn't, there should be. it should be instinctual. i don't want to seem ungrateful. i've been crashing at my parents house for the last 2 1/2 weeks. and i love my parents. i get along really well with them. my mom even made me a lunch to take to work with me today. the exact same lunch she gave me all through elementary school and junior high... half a sandwich cut diagonally , chips, an apple and 2 cookies. my parents are great. but there is an inate and profound drive for me to not live with them. which is why it gives me great joy to tell you that i am signing a lease for my new apartment today at 5 o'clock. it's all very exciting.

work conversation

"ecstasy is a drug you should do with a lover... and not with your cousin... trust me." and this is why it's important to be able to talk to the candy packaging kids in the back room. because you'll never be bored. sure, you'll shake your head and seriously wonder about the direction their life is taking, but you will never be bored.

choices

in high school there was one decision which defined you. your morning radio show. the morning show that you listened to as you drove to school. so that when you sat down in first period, you could look over at the person next to you and say, "did you listen to ________ today? " and really, as far as my waspy , teen angst y social circles reached, there were only two shows to choose from. chunga or radio from hell . top 40s or alternative. personally? i was a faithful radio from hell fan. x96 was as edgey as a skinny, honor roll, cheerleader girl like me could pull off. i've since been introduced to tupac, metallica, tim mcgraw, and even jazz. but as far as morning shows go, if it's not monotone mockery , i want no part of it.

it's a whole new season

september 1st is my new year. cuz that's when school starts and that's when my birthday is and yada yada yada. and more importantly, it's the start of a new tv season. any tv show worth anything, knows that the first episode of the season needs to be entirely expositional because it has to catch me up with everything that has happened since i saw it last. and that exposition will somehow end up driving the story line for the rest of the season. real life seems to parallel that. every september i meet new people or remeet old people and our conversation is entirely expositional . because we need to catch each other up on the random little details that will somehow drive our plotlines for the rest of the season. so happy new year everyone! might i suggest spending new year's eve working on your upcoming expositional monologues, really making them shine. because they're going to set the tone for the rest of your season . no pressure.

not about the money

just when i think i'm out... they pull me back in. i don't know guys. i leave it to you. the c.e.o of our company just pulled me into a meeting. and offered me a $5 an hour raise to stay. in utah. what would you do? **and did i mention the promotion and double the hours?**

sprint

i hate jogging. i'm not good at it. i look goofy doing it. and it feels awkward. and i've never experienced a runner's high. and even when i used to go to the gym, i'd only do the cardio stuff if my sister was with me, cuz she liked to do the elipticals. my parents have a treadmill which i've ignored for the last 5 years. until this morning when i did something i've always wanted to do. i raced. i tried to figure out how fast real runners go, and run as fast as them. i definitely lost the race. did you know that olympic runners are really fast? but i still ran as fast as i could for five minutes. until there was serious danger of me tripping. and my parent's dog was completely scared of me. and when i was done, i had enough adrenaline in my system that i didn't even get a diet coke today. i always wanted to do that at the gym. stretch a little, get on the treadmill, stare at the stranger next to me and say, " ok. on your mark... get set... GO! &

plans

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i think i've found a job in gilbert, arizona. i don't really know where that is. but that's not the point. i don't really know how to find an affordable apartment- that isn't in the ghetto. does arizona have a ghetto? -by looking online. but that's not the point. i think i've found a super cute nannying job. it's all very exciting. and terrifying. and exhausting. but that is not the point. the point is... look at this freaky picture of a baby that i found on a nanny website. shudder...

hyperventillating

um... i just quit my job. for real. . . . so this is what it feels like to cut your safety net.

hip

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i saw a tv show once where this guy runs into an old friend who last time he saw her was trying to buy a computer and he goes, " so which one did you end up buying? " and she's all " i went with the mac. " and he stares at her intently, sits down next to her, and goes, " you're a mac person? " and then they date. or something like that. i am that guy. this summer i found out that a guy who has annoyed me for the last two years of my life owns a mac, and suddenly he didn't seem so annoying. because he's a mac person. i'd like to tell you that i love compy a.k.a the 15" powerbook g4 because i'm a graphic designer. or because of the suprisingly good technical support. or because it's completely reliable and higher quality than a p.c. which are all valid points. but i like compy cuz he's pretty. and shiney. and hip. i feel so hip. when i use compy, i feel like i've taken my first step towards my fantasy where i work i

phunky

yesterday was a bad day. the specifics of which aren't important. although... you know... bad days always seem to follow the same pattern. they start out disguised as an "any other day you might have" kind of day... lulling you into a false sense of security with their any-other-dayness. and there are always a few up s that mingle in with the ego bruises and second guessing and worrisome phone calls, so it's not until you're lying in bed at 2 a.m. with your eyes wide open that you realize that you've just had one . bad . day. but what i really hate is how a bad day sticks with you. you wake up the next morning feeling sluggish and "knot-in-your-stomach"ish. and then 2 seconds later you remember why. and you think to yourself, "whatever. that was yesterday. i'm fine today." but then you see yourself snapping at the gas station attendant kid because your 32 cent tuesday's diet coke cost 62 cents due to new ownership. you see yours

downhill

true "i can do two pull ups." white lie "i weigh 140 pounds." accidental lie "i'll call you back." default lie (due to lack of sarcastic tone) "wow. sculptural welding? sounds like a class i'd love." bold faced lie "sounds like fun." bolder faced lie "oh, sorry. i can't hear you... cuz i got these headphones on." boldest faced lie of all time "sure, i know what i'm doing this fall."

dad

my dad is a 6'4", 240 pound teddy bear . he knows a lot about history. he can remember every meal he's ever eaten. my dad can't carry a tune and he memorizes the jokes from readers digest. he likes john wayne movies. and also he likes golf . in fact, he went golfing on saturday. well, why don't i let my dad tell you about it. dad: i went golfing on saturday. me: ya? and how was that? dad: it was ok. there was a man there with his daughter, so i asked if he wanted to team up and he did. me: that's nice. dad: and then he said that he doesn't get to golf as much as he'd like because of his job. me: his job? dad: ya. i asked him what his job was, and he said he was an apostle in the church. me: ...wait, [actually paying attention now] what? dad: ya. so then i realized that i was playing golf with elder eyring . me: are you kidding me? dad: no. and i guess he doesn't get to golf as much as he'd like to. so i told him that was a pretty good argument

the last 24 hours

yesterday, i went to the bank and ordered a credit card, thus compiling my non-credit history. it was very exciting. one of those "i don't want to go to work right now, i might as well start building credit" whims. also, the make shift photo studio my boss ordered came today. today i'm a photographer. i'm a jack of all trades. like bert on "mary poppins". tomorrow i'll be jumping into chalk drawings. i went to the park last night with the three kids i was babysitting. a dad came up to me and said, "these aren't your kids, are they?" yet another occasion where complete strangers sense my lack of maternal vibes. i told him, no, they weren't mine. and he gestured towards his wife and said, "see? i told her there was no way you'd had three children." i guess that means i'm skinny?

six degrees

back when i was one of the candy packaging grunts, we would play the 6 degrees game . one person would name two random celebrities and then everyone would try to be the first person to find the movie chain. and i loved it. because i'm a huge movie geek. and also somewhat of a movie snob. not in a film criticky kind of way, but in a "you've never seen 'pillow talk'?? what kind of a byu co-ed are you?" kind of way. but i degress. the 6 degrees game used to make time go by so much faster. what? we have to package 32 cases of orange slices? no problem... someone name two celebrities. but now i work in the office with all the grown ups. and time goes by much, much slower. much slower. so i try to play the game by myself. mickey rooney and pauly shore. go! ok. mickey rooney was in "breakfast at tiffany's" with audrey hepburn. who was in "robin and marian" with sean connery. who was in "the rock" with nicholas cage. who was in "

deja vu all over again

i used to feel so smart. until i was maybe 8. then it all went down hill. that's not really what this is about. but it's a little bit what this is about. in elementary school, i was in the rabbit class. cuz i used to be smart. i memorized my times tables, i learned how to spell, i took the tests and moved on . 7 times 8 equals 56? fine. i believe you. can we hurry this up? ah, to be young. in life? i'm dumb. i'm in the turtle class. i see that now. because the same problems keep repeating themselves over and over and over. and i just don't seem to get it. i want to get it. i want to learn motivation, and self awareness, and integrity, and especially common sense so i can move on . and learn something new. after i passed off my multiplication tables, i got to go in the hall with the other rabbits and play "simon says" . and all the sad, stupid turtle kids would watch us play while the teacher explained to them for the forty-seventh time that 7 times 8 equ

travel the world and the seven seas

dear kat, you seem like a seasoned traveller. tell me, what's the best place ever? yours truly, an ardent reader* p.s. you're pretty. dear ardent, i live in a beautiful state. but in the past few years i've been to some amazing places. here, we'd better look at this logically. i mean, massachusetts has the T. it has charming little restaurants on the north end like giacomo's. it has people standing in the street watching red sox games. it has my sister. but utah has streets that follow the grid system. there are mountains and canyons and arches. there's no humidity. the water doesn't taste like cigarette butts. but in massachusetts most of the men over 25 are still single. but in utah most of the men don't come up to you on the street and ask you to sleep with them. ( "i have lots of money. i could buy you anything you wanted." ) and then there's arizona . it has sun all year round. and no daylight savings. and the grand canyon. mexico h

gloat

dear friends and enemies, i'm in boston right now. i've been here since last thursday. i'll be back on wednesday. i am cool. and you are not. because i am in boston. ha.ha.ha. ha. kat

back up

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it's important to have a back up. i don't know why, but it is. wait. why is it important to have a back up? seriously. oh. that's right. because you don't want to die alone . ok. i'll buy that. i don't want to die alone. all alone. except for my cats. and shot glass collection. but i don't plan on dying for quite some time, people. and i don't have problems with living alone. all alone. except for my cats and shot glasses. and maybe a ferret or something. which is why my back up plan doesn't come into effect until i'm 80. so picture this... ...but add 60 years. and pretend we're in a nursing home instead of an olive garden. (mmm... black tie mousse cake) living out the rest of our senility together. please note: the past couple of blogs may or may not be me revelling in the fact that i found a way to scan pictures in at work. please also note: this particular blog may or may not be the result of lincoln sending me a forward that made me lau

finally

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i hope i edited out everything i needed to. i almost forgot to cover the account number. wait a second, what does it say in the "for" category? for "being the hottest girl ever " ?? why yes. that is what it says. hu. interesting. and now it's time to play... list all the responses that jumped into my head when i got this check (yipee! hooray!) i'll start... "it's about time i started making a living off of my good looks." "do i have to pay taxes on this?" "easiest 47 cents i ever made." "i wish guys would do this instead of buying me dinner." "...and my mom said my looks would never get me anything." "this is better than the monthly check your mom sends me so that i'll talk to you!"

stuck

doesn't it seem like the songs that get stuck in your head should be stuck there for a reason? like, some inner part of your soul wants the outer part of you to know exactly how both of you are feeling. and those feeling would best be expressed through song. the song choice should mean something. sigh... i was never aware that i wanted to rock and roll all night and party every day.

just a thought

"Wednesday was happy hour with Nana, a semi interesting black man I met in San Jose." some commentary... f irst of all, that's one of the best sentences i've ever had emailed to me. it makes me want to write a book just so i can make that the first line. s econd of all, why are epithets or aphorisms * so rarely used in real life? t hird of all... well, i guess i only have the two points. *a tersely ** phrased statement of a truth or opinion. **brief and to the point; effectively concise.

independent

there's so much that i don't know. and i don't mean that in a philosophical "oh! the world is so big and i am so small " kind of way. no. and i'm not trying to be vague or ambiguous either. no. i don't know how to drive a stick shift. or rent a u-haul. or apply for jobs when you don't know someone working there. or find a good apartment. or sign up for utilities. or turn a pile of savings bonds into a high interest earning nest egg. or get good credit. or use online plane tickets. or set up a server on my mac. or afford health insurance. so... pretty much what i'm saying is... i don't know how to take care of myself.

unrelated

i've been busy at work today 1 designing packaging for a new product called " chocolate animal droppings " which are actually chocolate covered nuts and raisins humorously offputtingly entitled by the canadians, and 2 planning my trip to visit my sister in boston. wicked awesome. i leave in 10 days. i pretty much just want to eat good seafood. the other day i watched "a patch of blue" , an old sydney poitier movie chalk full of social commentary as all of s.p.'s movies seem to be. there's always some sort of serious "don't superficially judge me" undercurrent to his movies. and my incessant "man he's hot when he monologues" comments seem horribly inappropriate.

overheard

"i saw the worst movie last night. 'hitchhiking the galaxy' or something like that... and i'll tell you, it made that idiot from idaho, what's his name?... 'napolean dynamite'. ya... it made 'napolean dynamite' look good." -40 year old man on cell phone

fire bad. tree pretty.

writer's block. head like clogged up drain. like drain full of hair. and semi opinions. be patient. will find figurative draino. fix everything. yay!

prepared

saw "war of the worlds" last night and left the theater happy to have seen a well made version of an "oh crap aliens are killing everybody let's run" movie. that's what it had promised to be, and that's all i really wanted. i like movies where the earth is going to be destroyed by aliens/meteors/the earth's inner core freezing/godzilla(ok, maybe not godzilla)/a giant volcano/etc because i feel like i'm being prepared for the real deal. bring it. first of all, in case of a real life "oh crap aliens are killing everybody let's run" event... i'm staying far away from the u.s. army, cuz they'll definitely be the first thing to go down. and new york will be the second. and in the face of real devastation, i'm going to strategically rip my shirt and find either the most eccentric scientist i know, or the best looking guy with undiscovered potential ** (or if i'm really aching to live, the aging scientologist * with a fet

sentiment

today was a sad day in my life. today i realized that i now prefer diet coke to mountain dew. i mean, and i knew this day would come. i've been working towards this for awhile, and i thought i wanted it, i really did. no more sugary sodas, that was my goal. but i can remember buying my first can of mountain dew from the high school vending machine when i was 14 years old. granted, mostly because it correlated with meeting one of my best friends and also, because my mom thinks caffeine and "the simpsons" are evil so rebelling against her has always been memorable. i feel so petty, because it's not like i love diet coke, it's more just that i've grown accustomed to its taste. it almost makes the day begin. i've grown accustomed to the tune is whistles night and noon. it's joys, it's frowns, it's ups, it's downs are second nature to me now. like breathing out and breathing in. i was serenely independent and content before we met. surely i

smart

i'm pretty good at those "word power" quizzes in reader's digest, the utah grid system makes perfect sense to me, i can count to 84 leaving out all the multiples of 7 and numbers with a 7 in them, and i'm really good at "cranium". which is why i feel like i can tell people that i'm smart. not freaky intelligent. just smart. when i'm sleep deprived? ya, it all goes away. all of it. the vocabulary, the numbers, the ability to cope in the real world... gone. and suddenly eating curry four meals in a row seems valid. taking an hour to find american fork seems valid. watching "the 'burbs" seems valid. and all the well rested people of the world seem... well... psychic.