When I get my knee fixed, I'm going to do so much stuff!

My physical abilities have been handicapped for five years. No more!

In no particular order:

RIDE A MECHANICAL BULL
I'm a Texan. I grew up on horses. I've competed in rodeos. I can tell you what all of the straps on a saddle are called.

But I've never gotten hammered and ridden a mechanical bull. This is blasphemy.

Naturally, since I'm a cute female (or so I've been told), I have to be obnoxious about my maiden ride. I'm going to wear a really tight shirt, jeans that show my G-string and a cowboy hat.

I'm going to walk up to that headless, metal body and mount it like it was Cillian Murphy (I think he's totally hot, okay?). Then I'm going to hang on and whoop and holler until I'm sure every man in the bar is looking at me. Then I'll dismount and wait for the free drinks to come my way.

If I fall off of the bull, oh well. I'll just make sure to puke on it before I leave the ring. Riding a mechanical bull isn't about class, after all. It's about being a redneck. A drunk, gyrating redneck.


GO ROLLER SKATING
I was never ever good on skates. I was the kid who wore the knee pads, the elbow pads and the wrist guards. And it's a good thing, too. Because my safety gear got lots of use.

But screw it! I'm going to get on some skates and awkwardly skooch my way around a rink.

And you know what else? I'm going to do it in style.

We're talking short shorts, knee socks and pigtails. Oh, yeah. Getting my knee fixed is really about wearing trampy things in public.

GO INDOOR ROCK CLIMBING
Despite my crippling fear of heights, I used to enjoy indoor rock climbing. I mean have you seen my guns? And by guns I mean super-ripped arms? And my super-ripped arms, I'm not talking about torn skin. Oh, no. I'm talking about all of this fine sinew I've got stretched over my bones.

And by all of that, I mean my toned yet deceptively weak girl arms. I'm going to need a good belayer.


DO RANDOM ACTS OF GYMNASTICS
Oh, look! There's a knee-high obstruction that I must step over. But why step when you can CARTWHEEL!
Booyah.


PLAY ON SOME RANDOM CO-ED SPORTS TEAM
Softball. Volleyball. Tetherball. Any sport, really. Not that a knew ligament will make me good at sports. After all, despite my athletic physique, I'm about as coordinated as Dick Cheney with a gun (oh, I went THERE)*

But seriously. I always dreamed of being an adult and playing on a corporate team. And at DDB, I couldn't play on any of the teams. Because when you're physically incapable of running, you're not really an asset. That's going to change!


JUMP ON A POGOSTICK
I might be the best pogosticker in the world. Despite my aforementioned lack of coordination, for some reason I rock the house on a pogostick. I even won a hundred bucks once because my mom's friend bet he was better than me. He got about forty jumps in a row before losing his balance and dismounting.

Then, because I'm nice, I gave him one last chance to back out of the bet. He said no.

I stayed on that pogostick for god knows how long. I even pogosticked with my hands up in the air. I won a Benji and the respect of a bunch of old people.

Another time in the third grade (I think, it might have been fifth) I wanted to get in the Guiness Book. So my friend and I went to the driveway and she counted as I jumped on the pogostick.

Somewhere around a thousand (or was it threethousand?) jumps, she wanted a turn. So I let her have one.**

So when my knee's better, I'm going to hustle people in the park with my pogostick. And yes, I own one.


KICK SOME ASS, LITERALLY
It's about time I take a self-defense class. I've always wanted to. And I busted the knee when I was finally ready to try. But once this puppy is fixed, I'm gonna make some big, muscly man cry with my kar-rah-tay!
I'm no stranger to getting punched and kicked (hello, gymnastics coach for years!). So there's really going to be no stopping me.

Except for these damn, girly arms. Maybe I'll just do reps with my hand weights the few days post surgery.



*Lewis Black is on in the background. Have you seen "Red, White & Screwed?" Hilarious. I was not paid to tell you that.
**I can't even stress how true these stories are.