truth be told.

image: source.

Hi, I'm Kathryn, (Hi Kathryn) and I haven't fb stalked for one hour and twenty-three minutes. (everyone clap).

Okay, I'll admit it, I have an uncontrollable addiction to facebook and the stalking that follows.

If your friends with me, I most likely have looked through most of your photos, know your favorite artist or band, and know who your auntie is. (yeah, it's creepy). And for certain individuals (who I do not care to name at this time), I follow every move, closely. Creepy, indeed. And completely wrong. I can't deny myself, though. I find it absolutely amusing, especially on summer days like this.

I enjoy mocking the "drama" that people are stupid enough to post. Or the pointless posts like, "I love puppies! (smiley face)." And what about the relationship status updates? Oh, those are precious. "so and so is now in a relationship with so and so." Six months later..." so and so is no longer in a relationship with so and so."  Ouch. Now the whole world knows about your delicious break-up. For all those stupid enough to post your private life on the most public social site in the world, this is a shout out to you baby, you're stupid.

But my most sinful stalking habit is...the men. Oh, yes, if I am lusting over some gorgeous blue eyed babe, or Mr. tall, dark and handsome, there is no doubt I will be all over his page, swooning over his photos, reading his status updates dating back to last year, mocking and stalking the girl he's with, (I need to know who my competition is). And occasionally I'll watch his updates in hopes he'll mention where he will be that weekend and I just "coincidentally" run into him.

(You know you do it, too).

 And the moral of the story...

Change your privacy settings on fb.

And if you block me after reading this, I'll understand. 

health bite. (because I know what I'm talking about.)

Hmm... what to have for breakfast this morning? I think I'll see what's in the garden. Is this a vegetable or a fruit? It's round and a pretty green. Well it'll have to do. Is this honey dew? No, it smells too much like squash. Doesn't matter, I'll just steam it and it should taste good.

10 minutes later...

This looks an awful lot like honey dew. Great. I've successfully managed to steam honey dew in water and olive oil for breakfast. Sounds delicious? Oh hang on a moment, this doesn't taste like honey dew. It cuts like zucchini, but it doesn't taste like that either. This squash like substance is kind of stringy. Ah, it's spaghetti squash, unripe steamed spaghetti squash. Doesn't matter, I'll eat it anyway.

This was my morning.

And yes, I did eat the unripe steamed spaghetti squash. Yes, you would think a health fanatic like me would know the difference between honey dew and unripe spaghetti squash. Yes, I'm fine with eating vegetables for breakfast. Don't you ever start your day off with spinach? Sometimes I'll have a spinach shake, aka green smoothie. It's lovely. 

And the moral of the story...

DON'T EAT SUGARED CEREAL! 

(trust me, you'll thank me when you're older, when all your friends are fat and have some sort of disease, but you'll be skinny and healthy and wonder what you did differently, and then remember, Oh, I didn't eat sugared cereal. I ate unripe steamed spaghetti squash, instead.) 

(you're welcome.)

peaches

 What can I say? You girls changed my life.

wind cave hike where I was almost attacked! by a rattlesnake I've decided to call it Lu. It's short for Lucifer.

We got sick of girls camp so we tried to hitch a ride back home. Ha! No, just messing with you.

kellie, work that outfit! Oh, I love you girls.

Girls camp was just about the most twisted adventure I've had in a long time. I almost didn't go this year. I'm 18, going to singles ward, why girls camp? Well, let's just say a little buddy of mine some people like to call the H.G. gave me a bit of advice. I thought he was just messing with me. I was wrong. Amazing things happened at camp, that's all.

Thank you girls for being my friend and letting me come. 

and a thank you to the girls of whom I stole the lovely photos from. I hope you don't mind.

Last day:

I'm coming home today and I look absolutely stunning. Like this:

image: here

If only...

But no matter how messy my hair is now, no matter how stinky I am after three days with no bath, no matter how dirty I am, always remember that no matter where you are you must always...

image: here

Camp advice #7: Be a lady. It does wonders for your self confidence when you smell like a campfire.

Girls camp is another name for nun camp.

This is what we do at girls camp. No, not the kissing. If you direct your eyes to the left side of the picture towards the back, we're the covered one. Hence, who we are at girls camp, Nuns, {in a way}.

image: here

No makeup, no phones, no hair irons, no electronics, no immodest attire and no boys. That is girls camp. It reminds me a bit of nunhood. {I don't think that was a word.} I do enjoy the break, though. Oh, girls camp.

Camp advice #93: flirting with the fisherman on the lake while canoeing, and then falling into the water in front of the said fisherman probably isn't the smartest or the least bit attractive.