Good... And Good for You

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.