three in the morning productions

a dash of stumble, drop of fall

You don't ask Kareen to give you a haircut. That's just shear stupidity.

That's just Nico. Moreover, he insisted -adamantly-. What was a big sister to do? His head is shaped funny to begin with so it was bumpy terrain for sure. But when I had finished performing my magnanimous favor, he glanced up at the mirror, ingrate that he is, and had the nerve to shriek horrifically "I'm bald!"

Well yees. It was that or a tomahawk. And in fact, that would have been very artistic of me. But I have a hunch he won't be asking me again for another haircut. Oh well, buzz buzz.

My arms are tired but I don't mind. My masterpiece is almost complete. Muahaha. Then ship off it is, along with some music and little knick knacks to a dear friend. And speaking of friends, this is the second Sunday that Marg, Cass, Karn and I have gone for a stroll in the park. It's become ritual really. The topic of conversation mainly on who gets to be what kind of Elf. Egads, we're quite the geeks. We got a little bit of a jog in too. Good for me as track season is almost here and you know with the time I've spent vegetating during the holiday break I'm sure that I'll have to resort to jumping -under- the hurdles. Nothing should embarrass me anymore, not after the bleeding humiliation I went through on my first meet. I remember.

I was running the most dreaded event of all - the 300 meter race of jumping agony. I had been consigned to the hurdles -the day before- and given that amount of time to practice. But to really get a feel for how horrible it was, the hurdles are about three foot in height. I'm four foot eleven. Was I nervous? Yaah, just a tad bit. I took off at the gun and paced myself very very badly so that by the end I was literally -stepping- over the remaining hurdles. There was just one more to go--one hurdle leering at me, and with the last ounce of my strength I made the leap. Of course my ass made a nice plopping sound on the pavement. But nevertheless, I was determined to finish. I scrambled up on my feet and made for the finish line when, hey, there I went again, down on my hands and knees. Way to go Kareen! But at that moment, all I really cared about was getting to that bloody finish line even if I had to crawl for it. But I made it. And I would have kept running... and running... and running to the remotest corner of the Earth, or at least to the bathroom where I could haved flushed myself down the toilet in utter humiliation. I cried like a baby. But it was okay! I was a silly little freshman and crying in public wasn't known to me as taboo then.

Hopefully nothing embarassing of that magnitude will happen to me this year. But better than hoping, I should actually -start- running.

Yaah... Kareen. Running. What a scream.

01.12.03 - 11:54 p.m.

	a dash of stumble, drop of fall You don't ask Kareen to give you a haircut. That's just shear stupidity. That's just Nico. Moreover, he insisted -adamantly-. What was a big sister to do? His head is shaped funny to begin with so it was bumpy terrain for sure. But when I had finished performing my magnanimous favor, he glanced up at the mirror, ingrate that he is, and had the nerve to shriek horrifically "I'm bald!" Well yees. It was that or a tomahawk. And in fact, that would have been very artistic of me. But I have a hunch he won't be asking me again for another haircut. Oh well, buzz buzz. My arms are tired but I don't mind. My masterpiece is almost complete. Muahaha. Then ship off it is, along with some music and little knick knacks to a dear friend. And speaking of friends, this is the second Sunday that Marg, Cass, Karn and I have gone for a stroll in the park. It's become ritual really. The topic of conversation mainly on who gets to be what kind of Elf. Egads, we're quite the geeks. We got a little bit of a jog in too. Good for me as track season is almost here and you know with the time I've spent vegetating during the holiday break I'm sure that I'll have to resort to jumping -under- the hurdles. Nothing should embarrass me anymore, not after the bleeding humiliation I went through on my first meet. I remember. I was running the most dreaded event of all - the 300 meter race of jumping agony. I had been consigned to the hurdles -the day before- and given that amount of time to practice. But to really get a feel for how horrible it was, the hurdles are about three foot in height. I'm four foot eleven. Was I nervous? Yaah, just a tad bit. I took off at the gun and paced myself very very badly so that by the end I was literally -stepping- over the remaining hurdles. There was just one more to go--one hurdle leering at me, and with the last ounce of my strength I made the leap. Of course my ass made a nice plopping sound on the pavement. But nevertheless, I was determined to finish. I scrambled up on my feet and made for the finish line when, hey, there I went again, down on my hands and knees. Way to go Kareen! But at that moment, all I really cared about was getting to that bloody finish line even if I had to crawl for it. But I made it. And I would have kept running... and running... and running to the remotest corner of the Earth, or at least to the bathroom where I could haved flushed myself down the toilet in utter humiliation. I cried like a baby. But it was okay! I was a silly little freshman and crying in public wasn't known to me as taboo then. Hopefully nothing embarassing of that magnitude will happen to me this year. But better than hoping, I should actually -start- running. Yaah... Kareen. Running. What a scream. 01.12.03 - 11:54 p.m.