I Have it all Figured Out for the Year.

I hate going to the company Christmas parties. You’ve been there: you are assigned to a table, you make small talk, you eat too much of a buffet meal, and then the dreaded part…the lights start to flash, the disco ball comes down, and the music starts to blare.

My heart goes thump-thump-thump, but not to the beat. Do you know why? If you ask anyone who knows me they will tell you that I am tone deaf. I can’t hear the beat, feel the beat, or even know that there is a beat. In a nutshell I dislike dancing- thank you very much. I have a tiny secret that gets me a free pass out of dancing: I put on really high heels that I can not possibly walk in and by the time it is time to dance my feet hurt too much, “Oh well maybe next year.” (Insert big sigh).

David is a different species all together he is what I refer to as a homo-disco- sapien. Let me put it to you this way: He received a disco ball as a Christmas present from a co-worker. He will dance with anybody , to anything and he looks so happy doing it. I do catch him staring longingly at me as if to say, “I wish this was you.” To which I respond with exaggeratingly pointing my finger to my feet, and making a sad "Oh I wish this didn't hurt so much" face. To his credit he never dances the slow songs with any one other than me. If I am not willing to dance he will sit at the table and look at me with puppy dog eyes. (All right I give in.) We go to the dance floor and we start in the waltz pose, however I forget which side we hold our arms up. David whispers in my ear, “Love let me lead.” No problem with me. However that is easier said than done. We end up doing a push-pull-marathon on the dance floor, to which I am not keeping beat to. Finally David gives up and we end up dancing like junior high school kids: His arms at my waist with my arms around his neck and our feet just slightly moving side to side. David is a good sport, because he keeps taking me to these parties each and every year.

My third and final task of this year is:
To learn rhythm (to the best of my God given ability.) And then to take dancing lessons with David, mainly to learn what arm we are suppose to put up when we are slow dancing.

Also dancing lessons will enable me to let go and to let him lead. Oh yeah and most importantly dancing lessons will give me more dancing moves other than the ones I learned in middle school.

David sweetheart this last accomplishment is for us. I want you to twirl me around the dance floor. I want to be the only lady who gets your attention and dancing feet moving. I want to dance in the moonlight with you. I am going to end this blog because I have to break out the disco ball…now where did I hide that thing?

Number Two on my List!

I have some fantastic news! I have come up with accomplishment number two! I must give you some background before I explain why I have chosen this particular activity.

For the last couple of summers some old friends, and us would venture down south to a cabin with a trout lake. Supposedly everyone caught at least a couple of fish during their short visits. We believed we should have no problems whatsoever right? We bought our fishing licenses and rented a rowboat with motor. We all had the same thought: “We are totally going to clean this lake out.” We were so cocky that we pored over the rules and limits to how many fish we could take back. When we got to what we considered the “perfect” fishing spot, we dropped our lines. I threw my line in over my head, and everyone else took cover. We waited thirty seconds for a bite, and had no luck. (Apparently we lacked patience.) So we decided that it must be our bait, so we tried different bait: cheese ball bait, green bait, orange bait, and marshmallow bait. We also tried different lures. It didn’t help. During our time on the boat we noticed that there were Canadian geese making loud obnoxious laughing noises. Normally we wouldn’t have paid much attention to these geese, but because of our lack of superb fisher-skills we had the impression that they were laughing at us. Between the birds laughing and our laughing we did not manage to catch any fish. However I did catch some mighty fine seaweed, which the birds found hilarious!

The next year we decided to endure the same adventure. Thank goodness the birds were on a v-cay because there was no laugh track during our fishing adventure. My greatest moment was when I actually caught two fish! One was too small, so we had to set him free. (Good thing we had read the rules the year before.) But one was just right. IN YOUR FACE FISH; I AM A FISHER WOMAN! That night the fish was eaten and that was the best day of our trip*

*Disclaimer:
I used a closed line, which I feel is totally acceptable. My friend had to tie the line, put the red and white bobble thingy at the end of my line, and put a hook on too, because I had no clue how to make a knot. I put my bait at the end of the line, but most of the time it fell off, so the fish received a “free lunch” When my line got tangled everyone had to untangle it for me. Did I mention when I casted my line out everyone still ran for cover? I am not sure why. When the fish were caught I refused to touch them, so my friend had to unhook the fish and “take care of it” Soprano’s style. When it was time to scale the fish I watched with my eyes closed most of the time. I reluctantly held the fish for a picture, but of course that was for bragging rights. I almost forgot I named the fish Frank. To my credit I was the only one who actually caught seaweed or a fish. I did not eat the fish. I do not like the taste of fish especially when it was cooked in Frito-Lay chips and taco seasoning. (We were not as confident on our second trip that we would actually catch anything, so we did not bring anything remotely great tasting to bring out the proper flavor of Frank.)Yuck! Poor Frito-Lay-Frank, as we refer him now.

I got hooked on fishing. I would like to learn how to be a “some what” of a fishing expert, hell I would just be happy with the following: Knotting my line. Preparing of my pole so it is strong enough to reel in the “big one” (well at least a small to medium one.) I want to make sure the fish do not get a free lunch. I want friends to be comfortable enough to not have to run cover every time I cast out. I want to learn to gut a fish. I want to learn how to prepare a delicious fish dish that even I would eat. (Those of you that have stock in Frito-Lay I am so sorry.)

How am I going to accomplish such a feat?
The good news is that I live 20 minutes from one of the best fishing spots in British Columbia, so there are no excuses.
I can dress like a fisher-person, because I can buy cute fisher-clothes, and fisher-items, because I like to shop
I could read a book, or I could take expensive lessons. Or… I ask my wonderful brother Monte for his help.

Monte has worked at fishing resorts and he knows everything about fishing. He is my little brother and if I am not mistaken I think there is a clause that says a little brother must do what ever a big sister asks him to do. I asked Monte to read my blog and I don’t want to guilt him (too much), but he holds the key to my second accomplishment to this year.
Why this accomplish is important to me: Fishing gives me great joy and more importantly peace; I am ecstatic when I am out in the water with the hopes of catching a fish. At this point my skill set does not allow me to go fishing whenever I want. I could now but I have a feeling that I probably would end up in the emergency room with a fishing-something-or-other sticking out from an important body part which I need. I desperately need someone more experienced to teach me, so I can not go whenever the mood strikes. I don’t want have to depend on someone else. I want to be able to do what I want whenever I want. (I also want to spend extra time with my brother.)

I love you Monte!