My plagiarism problem

Well I just got my Loma Linda University School of Medicine acceptance letter, so at this point I'm very certain that I will be starting medical school next year. Not that I was ever really worried. It's funny; I got a personal email from Dean Hadley (the Roger Dean, not the Dean Dean, who isn't a dean as far as I know) informing me of my acceptance, and in it he addresses me as "Johnny," which I found humorous because it seems that even though we are on informal terms, a letter from the school of medicine seems like it might be more formal. Espy went to the tae kwon do class we just signed up for (at $2.50 a month), and said it was fun. I sat it out (or really, lay it out; I was asleep on my bed) for ankle reasons. OK, that's another story. Espy and I, for a few weeks now, have been asking the management of the compound to invest in the repair of the basketball hoop here, and just the other day we went by it to find that it was fixed (in the it finally has a rim sense, not in the rim being on straight or at 10 feet sense, because it's not straight, and I can dunk). So I ran back to our apartment and grabbed the only ball we have to play witha soccerball. Short story shorter, after playing a while and then chasing the ball through a flower bed that actually had an invisible wire fence around it (so it wasn't really invisible; it was just night and my vision wasn't so spot on) (also, if you don't understand the idea of a wire fence, think of it as a barbed-wire fence without the barbs, but able to tear the skin just from it's ability to withstand the force of a night-blind boy trying to run straight through it) I found that I wasn't so much in the mood to play any more. I'm also quite out of shape. So I returned to my apartment, only to discover that I'd left my keys at the court, so I once again ran there, and then back, and on my way back I rolled my ankle because it was dark and I was tired and the sidewalks here can be mountainous. It was this ankle issue that kept me from TKD tonight. Oh, Espy and I also got a note from one of the ladies who works in the ADRA office (actually, the same lady who took me to take the motorbike test, who happens to be the same one who went back to pick up my motorbike license today) asking if she can use our oven "to bake the bone of a black cat to make medicine for [her] son's asthma." Of course, this is no bother to us, but even if it was, I would have consented out of sheer curiosity. So i guess it's true. Curiosity killed the cat. A black one in this case. PS. The title of this blog will make sense to just about one person, and it's a gift from me to that person for allowing me to copy much of the material that is posted here from a personal letter to that person. That being said, I'm sure the title makes sense to a couple more people as well. PPS. Thank you all those lovely people who leave blog comments. I have finally achieved my myspace-long goal of having as many comments as posts.