Friday, March 19, 2010
When I was four years old I was at a carnival, and one of the attractions was a carousel with real horses. They were tied to a large metal wheel that allowed them to walk in a circle with a radius of about 20 feet. Somehow, my horse discovered that he was not tied tightly enough to the device, and he broke free. A few years later, I was on a vacation with my parents, and we went for a horseback ride with a long line of horses. My parents were nervous about me, and decided to take multiple precautions for my safety. Instead of a horse, I rode a mule. Furthermore, my mule was tied to the leader’s horse. My parents believed that a mule would be much more surefooted than a horse, and that nothing could go wrong if I were tied to the leader. As it turned out, the mule was just as surefooted as they had thought, but the leader’s horse got spooked by something, and started running around uncontrollably, and my mule had no choice but to follow.
Ultimately, the only unifying theme in all of my horseback riding experiences is that I have never fallen off a horse, or gotten injured while riding one. Horses and ice seem to have opposite effects on me. I wonder what would happen if I rode a horse on ice. Perhaps it would be like tying butter-side-up toast to the top of a cat: The bread always falls butter-side-down, but the cat always lands on its feet. Maybe the universe would implode.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Often, when doctors warn patients about risks, they will talk about very low probabilities. Before my doctor implanted bionics in me, he told me about all the risks associated with the procedure. Included was a 90% chance that one of my nerves would be severed. I was poking around at my knee a few hours ago, and I finally found out that I was among the 90%. I have a spot on my knee about the size of a ￥500 coin where I can feel no pain.
I can’t go into detail about this next note without slipping some major spoilers, but suffice it to say that as a Firefly fan, this makes me very happy.
Friday, March 5, 2010
I am giving up on ice, and all things slippery. Unlike a cat, I have neither pads nor claws to increase traction when walking. My current situation is not my first slip-related injury. In fact, just about every injury I have ever suffered was a direct result of a slippery surface. The first time I went ice-skating, 16 years ago, was the only time in my life I have done a split, which is why I went so long without ice-skating again. Last ski season, when I hit a large patch of ice, I had a big fall, and ended up finishing the race on one ski. In the 15-year history of my rowing team, I am the only rower who has ever broken a bone at practice. How did I do it? I slipped.
From now on, my water will not have ice in it. I will no longer use Pam, olive oil, butter, or even Teflon coated pans. I will cook all my food in a cast-iron skillet, which I will clean with a Bowie knife.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The day after I fell from grace, I went to the infirmary at my school. I put a sock and shoe on my right foot, but left my left foot bare. I can’t reach it, and I don’t want anyone else trying to force a sock onto it. After my appointment, as I was leaving the office, a woman who worked there stopped me, and told me it looked like my foot would get cold when I went outside. She gave me a wool sock to keep it warm. It is a great sock. Not only is it as soft as a kitten, but it is also loose enough to fit comfortably over my foot without requiring any force. Unfortunately, nobody else likes it as much as I do. My mom complained that it’s not a real sock because it’s open on both ends. One of my roommates asked me “What’s that piece of cloth doing on your foot?” My mom loved that description of it. I retorted “It’s not a piece of cloth. It’s a sock. They gave it to me at the infirmary.” “Of course,” he replied, “You went in there with a broken kneecap, and they gave you a piece of cloth. Typical. They probably also asked you if you were pregnant.” I don’t care what anybody else thinks. I love my new sock.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
I wanted the URL for this blog to be momo<3cats.blogspot.com because I love cats, and <3 kind of looks like a pictogram of a heart, which is used in western society to represent love. I also have fewer than three cats, so it works on multiple levels. Unfortunately, blogger didn’t like that. They just don’t appreciate high-brow humor, so the double meaning went right over their heads. They claimed that < can’t be used in URLs. Instead they suggested that I use morganscatblog.blogspot.com. Morgan [WHAT!?] blog? That’s gross! Hey Blogger, I don't know what gave you that impression, but I’m not into that stuff! Go peddle that smut somewhere else! Perhaps an Ella Fitzgerald blog might sink to that level, but you won’t find any of that here! Instead, I’ll stick with momoblogsaboutcats.blogspot.com, because I’m Momo, and I blog about cats.
I know many of you were expecting to see me in the Giant Slalom at the Olympics this year. Unfortunately, I injured myself, and my dreams of a gold medal will have to wait until Russia in 2014. Also, next time I’m going to stick to skiing, as it was an ice skating accident that put me out of commission. I asked myself “What would Brian Boitano do?” and I decided to do two salchows and a triple lutz while wearing a blindfold. Unfortunately, I have no sense of balance or coordination, so I fell before I could even get the blindfold on. I should have known from skiing that ice is dangerous, and should be avoided at all costs. I don’t even put ice in my water now. As I’m not going to get out much during the next few weeks, I’ve decided to do something constructive with my time, so I thought to myself, “what is the world lacking right now that I’m in a position to supply?” Thus, I decided to write a blog, but not just any blog: a cat blog. You’re welcome, world.