Dude! I'm old!! So all the grandkids visited this Christmas. It was awesome! they're so fun! I love it when they visit. But... they're huge! Holy cow my oldest niece is in 5th grade! No possible way! How in the world did I get to be in college?(Amen. How did I make it to college with my grades?) Since when was my fiance coming home so soon?How long have there not been bumper chairs in Michael's car? Why do I get invited to old people parties and talked into dancing? When did I get de-moated from the kids table to the boring adult one for dinner? Why doesn't anyone know who Lamb Chops is anymore? When did my room turn into storage space? And I am not in relief society!! Agh!! Wow I'm a complainer and a half huh? That's kind of what I use my blog for probably. Anyway I guess I've always had a hard time coping with getting older...getting old! I hate my Birthday. I don't like standing on the scale(wait! aging is not an excuse for that! Scream! I've got some major New Years resolutions!). I read a book once about these two twins that discover this room where you can go and time slows down tons inside the room but keeps going outside of it. I shouldn't have read that book. Sometimes I think my own bedroom is like that room and time has no effect on me. Then somebody slaps me back into reality with a phone call or alarm clock or something. Geeze. Well what can you do though? Just accept it I guess. But I just accept everything! I only live my life to survive it. Does that make me a better person? Ofcourse not! Woah where is this conversation going? Is this even a conversation? I think I need more sleep. Well yeah anyway I feel old. The grandkids play with each other while us old people talk. They've replaced Greg and I. The other night I talked with my cousin. We didn't play ping-pong or sardines or anything we just sat and talked about boys...well she talked about boys. Seriously what is the world coming to? "Aunt Snugly" wants to stay snugly and not handle the responsibilities of an adult. And since when was Aunt snugly, Aunt snugly? I don't know though I need to grow up sometime. On Thursday night I started writing down my goals and things I'd like to eventually be able to do. I wrote eleven pages before I fell asleep and most of those pages were covered with adult-like behavior. I just worry that I'll lose my identity if I try to be my own age. Will the real Kathryn still be in there somewhere? I sure hope so. But who in the world is the "real Kathryn?!"Anyway I need more initiative in my life. I feel like such a huge slacker. Especially when I come home around my family. They are insane people. I wish I could be more like them. This year I was sort of stuck in the middle of everyone. The only teenager. No one knows quite what to do with me. Holy cow this post is getting way too long?(It should be it's 11:30pm and that's when I start getting creative). I should probably be safer and go start writing in my journal. Man I wish I could copy and paste this into my journal. Speaking of New Year's resolutions dude I need to be a better journal writer. My first semester of college down the drain. Now I'll never know what it was like from day to day. I think my journals are definitely going to be the next Scriptures one day and then I'll learn to tie my shoes and the shower won't sound like the heater anymore and make me late for work. Um g'night.
Wow. I'm actually writing a blog! Yay! Well a lot has happened in my life since I last wrote. Now I live on campus at BYU. Yeah, don't ask me why. But it's tons of fun. It's been an awesome experience. I have outstanding roommates and I've learned so much. I'm loving it. I should probably work on getting more sleep though. Nah. Well there you go. Now I don't know what else to write. Hmm... how about some thoughts on... on... chocolate! Which is better? Chocolate? Or chocolate ice cream? Undoubtedly chocolate ice cream is better. Chocolate is great by itself, but so is ice cream. If you combine the two it's paradise. Wow! I need a life. More importantly I need a drink of chocolate milk. G'night.
I felt like blogging again, but I couldn't think of anything to write. Cute dog. Wonder if he's actually holding the pancake? I don't like pancakes...or waffles or pretty much anything that's served for breakfast in the morning.
I'm not sure why, but I have a huge love for hunting down and swatting bugs. It's so rejuvenating! Yesterday there was this humongous fly in our kitchen. He was really annoying and I had tons of energy so I took it upon myself to be its killer(I usually let the spiders do it. I like spiders... except for black widows. They eat flies. Have you ever read Be Nice to Spiders? Holy cow! Such a good book! It will change the world.). Anyway for some reason I was determined to swat the fly while it was still in the air so I was chasing him around all over the house. So fun!! Let's just say it's amazing what a little bit of not playing tennis can do to you. Finally after my mom started getting frustrated because I was making the house shake, I decided to just get rid of him. He had innocently landed on the side of a counter. On top of the counter was a nice china bowl. Without alerting the fly, I cautiously set up my shot and slammed a perfect forehand . I whacked the fly right on the nose, but the only problem was I had added some top-spin(which I do improperly) to my swing. I brushed up with the fly-swatter and suddenly the china bowl on the counter went sailing across the room and landed in the sink. What an experience. Luckily the bowl didn't break, but it made me realize just how much I look forward to hunting down flies and other bugs. I can't wait to start going,"moth hunting," in my basement with my dog this summer(I find them and she eats them. We're a good team.). Anyway so there's my new joy. Why am I writing about this?! I really need a life.
AGGH! I've been feeling so stressed today. Why? "Stress stinks." What's the use of it? It just makes your eyebrows hurt. I'm very much against stress. I think it was invented by the communists. Is anyone else feeling stressed this week? But I discovered something today. Little kids are amazing at helping you cope with stress. I had three tests today and tomorrow I have two humongous flute thingys in Salt Lake and a piano recital straight after that. I'm surviving now, but last night I just wanted to shoot myself(not really but ya know). But today 2 of my little nieces were visiting and I got to babysit. First we watched,"Odette," then we ate,"espettios," then we made paper bag puppets and read books forever until we all fell asleep on the couch. It was so relaxing. I really can't remember the last time I had a conversation about living in the sky and not being able to get food or use the telephone. And I definitely can't remember how long it's been since I've indulged in a burping contest. Anyway I was just surprised at their power. Being a youngest child I don't always get little people to play with. They're great. They help you relax and forget things. Man I envy all you people with younger siblings! I'm sure they can be annoying sometimes(after all that's their job) but isn't the camaraderie great? Ohmigosh! That word was on a multiple choice practice test in English today! And it has communist connotations! AHH! Anyway I wish I had a younger sibling. Someone to boss around and tease and play sports with. I hate being an only child. I guess I'm just missing my fiancee again. Well, I like fudge and I'm too tired to write anything else coherent so g'night.PS Marie Calenders
Well I'm frustrated. Yes that's right I haven't written a blog forever but when I finally do I'm frustrated. So read this at your own risk or if you're curious about the effects of tennis skirts on an innocent girl's life. So it happened again. I was out playing tennis against my garage today(in a tennis skirt naturally) and I've come to the decision that...well maybe I haven't quite come to any decisions yet so I'll start from the beginning and you can give me advice, or just ignore this cuz it might be kinda strange if you haven't heard one of my nylon or tank-top speeches. So one day I was out playing tennis against my garage(in a skirt) and all of the sudden one of my neighbors who's like 20 and scary and doesn't always go to church starts walking up my driveway. First I thought he was just walking through my yard(people do that because of my yard's convenient location), but then he just kept standing there. So I look over at him expecting him to ask a question about our phone lines(cuz his family kinda ran into our phone box with one of their 4-wheelers) but what does he say?"I don't believe we've met."Argh! It was horrible! I was just trying to play tennis, I had no intention of flirting with some weirdo. He just kept talking. Couldn't he tell I was out there to play tennis with the garage?! So anyway that was episode one. I wasn't going to let that stop me from playing tennis in my front yard so a while later I got out there in my neon green skirt to show my resilience and keep in shape with my tennis. But there he was on his front porch just standing there staring at me. Freaky. Anyway but I stayed strong and continued to play tennis because I like tennis and I want to get tan. So then things settled down for a while. I got busy with school and took a break, but today I decided I was feeling fat and needed some exercise. So I got out there in my plain white and black Adidas skirt and started hammering away. I was doing really good too. But then slowly people started accumulating at my neighbors house. Now you have to realize they're the only people who have somewhat of a view of my driveway so I feel justified enough in wearing a tennis skirt. Plus what else do I wear when I play tennis? Sometimes I get the feeling people think I'm just showing off. So anyway I was there first, but then some kind of group of monkeys started forming at my neighbors house. But I didn't care. I was enjoying myself and it felt,"so good," to finally be out playing tennis again. But then a strange incident occurred. The ball hit the crack on my driveway and I did a terrible swing and the ball went over my other neighbor's fence. So I walked around our backyard into the garage and got another ball. But when I came back, there was a ball just sitting there next to the fence, I was sure I hadn't missed it before. But it was in my yard so I stuck one ball in my spandex and continued hitting. But then the group of monkeys I could tell commenced at trying to get my attention by whistling. Hymph. I was having a good game day and I wasn't about to stop. However, when I heard someone say the word tennis I decided I'd been out there too long and went inside cutting my tennis secession short. So what's the deal? Do I not have the right to play tennis in my own yard anymore? Do I have to wear shorts instead of a TENNIS skirt when I'm playing TENNIS? I'm frustrated. Now I'm scared of going out there. I'm gonna spend the rest of my life cooped up in my house getting fat cuz I won't be able to play tennis. I just don't understand it. Do those guys think I go out there for them? Do you think it has ever occurred to them that I go out to practice my tennis and when a girl plays tennis she wears a tennis skirt?Anyway maybe I've come to realize that tennis skirts can get you the wrong kind of attention. But why? I guess this shows you the power of the way you dress. Maybe that's why girls have so much power...or so little whichever way you look at it. But tennis skirts are wonderful! I don't want to transition back to shorts! They move all over the place and can't hold balls worth beans! It just not fair. I don't want to be whistled at but, I do want to wear tennis skirts! What should I do?! Well g'night.
Finalement, j'ai fini! I'm done! I feel great! No more stress and stupid interviews! Whoo! I can finally move on with my life! Never again will I answer the question,"what do you think of the culture in France?"or"tell me about your leadership positions." Interviews are over-rated. It's all lies! Lies I tell you! Chezzy questions deserve chezzy answers which promote phony-ness and ambiguity. I wore glasses to my interview today(along with my contacts) and nobody ever knew how fake I was. Do interviewers really think they're getting the real person in a matter of minutes just off of how well someone presents his/her self? One day I'm going to go into some crazy interview and ask real questions like,"what color is your toothbrush?" and,"how many pairs of socks do you own?" Anyway I'm happy. And I'm finished. I need to put up a picture of something that makes me feel good...hmm how bout this?
I'm ready for summer! Lately life has been pretty blah. I was looking through pictures for my annoying sterling scholar portfolio over the weekend (I'm finally done! Whoo!) and I discovered how great my summer was last year and how much I should've appreciated it. This year summer will be n
ice since I'm graduating and I'll get to move my liripoop to the side (yes look that word up it's my new favorite) ,but then again it won't be so nice because I'm graduating and I'll have to work and make money. Summers will never be the same again(until I turn sixty-five and retire unmarried). But I'm still excited for summer, cuz I've pretty much had enough of gross wintry air and runny noses. Yep that's about it. Sorry I don't feel much like writing today. I haven't felt much like eating or going to school today either so I'm trying to trick my mom into thinking that I'm being productive. Anyone else excited for summer? I think school was over-rated after about the first hour of the first day in kindergarten. Actually that might be over estimating. Oh! I've forgotten to analyze something. Let's see. School is the pits because it always has been and summer is great because there's no school and I miss Fra
nce... and I'm probably in a bad mood right now and I need a life so I'm going to stop writing. But here I'll put a beautiful picture of Versailles up so you don't think I'm too...querulous today.
Here I sit in a commodious colossus, trying to be seminal and recalcitrant by burgeoning my loquacious elocution as a paragon for the latent cavorts as if I were cogent and gregarious. Daft! I am not deft, nor do I use the proper cadence for such meritorious entomology. I redact and recapitulate my myopic circumlocution like an ostracized tome. I am a voluminous pariah without verbosity! I need to be placated.
I'm hungry. My church started at one o'clock today(for the first time in my life) and it was fast Sunday. I almost died. Why did I almost die? What's the deal with food? Sometimes eating food feels great and sometimes it's painful. Sometimes we just can't stop eating and other times we don't eat a thing. I'm probably the kind of person who likes to snack all the time. That's right, I'm that annoying girl in the back of a dead silent room, feudally trying to open a bag of chips without anyone noticing. And I even carry around a back up supply of food just in case. But then again sometimes I forget to eat. It's kind of weird. A couple days ago I had to go to school early so I didn't have time for breakfast. I was in the middle of my second class(which was French where you can't eat) and realized,"Wait a minute I haven't eaten yet!" So I thought,"Oh well, I'll eat between classes." But then I forgot to eat between classes and after that I had a meeting at lunch and forgot to eat again. I got home from school and went straight to practicing the piano cuz I had piano lessons that day. Then I went to my lesson and came back excited to practice my new music. Anyway it went on and on like that. Finally I realized it was 6:30 at night and I still hadn't eaten a thing all day. I felt fine. I wasn't really hungry, but I thought I probably should eat something to satisfy my mom, so I finally did. But then why do I have such a hard time with fast Sundays? Sometimes I almost faint on fast Sundays. Yet, I die when I eat out too much. I wonder what it is? Some people see eating just as a necessity. Others do it for pure joy. Which one am I?Which one are you? Well I don't care anymore!All I know is that it's fast Sunday and I'm hungry! But ya know, I met this lady in France who was a baptist or something and she would fast for weeks at a time. When we asked her how she did it she simply said,"Faith." Maybe I just need more faith to survive fast Sundays.
