Just fishing for words

Such a slacker I have been with posting lately. My apologies to the fans who have been long awaiting a new, overdue, witty, and clever post. I can tell by the mere 5 comments that I had left on my last post, that my blog is still uber cool.

I hope that everyone will come back and forgive me for my blogging crimes. I have been busy and wrapped up in some events going on in my life right now.

First off, it is the craziest time of the school year—the end. (Thank you Jay-sus!!) The kids are off the chain and I couldn't care less. I am already done with this year, too. Only 15 more left and counting!

I have also become very involved in a new type of Hotness Plan. I decided that cardio alone is not enough so I added some weight training in to knock me off this hotness plateau that I have been stuck on for a while. I even have a personal trainer, my dear friend Super Villain! He is killing me, but I am seeing results already! Sexy abs are on the way!

Have you ever felt on the verge of something big, as if something major is about to happen? This is the place where I am right now. It’s hard for me to describe right now, but I am feeling extremely excited, nervous, and happy all at the same time. I have no idea about how anything will turn out, but I do feel good things in the near future.

One of these good things has to do with major travel plans, which if it pans out, will be an absolute dream come true for me! I can’t say any more than that. I don’t want to jinx it! (Just because I don’t believe in Karma doesn’t mean that I am not superstitious!)

I feel that I have solved something in my mind that has always troubled me. You know the old saying about “There’s plenty of fish in the sea”? It always bothered me when someone (usually me) was out there searching for a “good catch” and was told this stupid metaphor. Yes, I get the comparison. There are plenty of men out there to “catch”; there’s plenty of fish out there to catch. Still, why did it have to be stinky old fish that we are searching for? Why couldn't it be exotic birds or something? Well, I’ll tell you why…There is no other comparison truer to fishing for men than fishing for fish.

I went trout fishing this past weekend with my dad. I love that stuff. I find it fun, relaxing, and challenging, too. Trout are smart. If they see you, they don’t bite. If you throw them something suspicious or make a big splash, they disappear and they don’t quickly forget your suspicious behavior. Just like trout, men are never interested in something being dangled before their face and if they have any inkling they are about to be “hooked” they run away.

There I was standing before my favorite fishing hole that I had to wade waist deep in, skirt small waterfalls, and climb boulders and downed logs all along the Chattahoochee to get to. I saw both rainbow and brown trout chilling out under the lip of a large rock. There were trout, trout, trout! I was so excited when I cast out into the pool. There were so many that I knew I would catch at least one! Well, they chased my spinner, they watched with interest as I slowly reeled my lures right by them. I even had a nibble. But it was no use. They wouldn’t take the bait. Again, this is very similar to finding available men, teasing them, almost catching one and then realizing that even though they fool you into thinking they are interested, they really aren’t.

This leads to frustration. It even brings out a certain amount of determination within you. I mean, you were SO close, right? Keep on trying! If at first you don’t succeed…. And that is basically what I did at that fishing hole. Just seeing those trout made me really want one. I tried and I tried!

Finally realizing I was defeated and just plain irritated, I let out my signature sigh of frustration and sloshed through the water back upriver and forgot all about it and played in the waterfalls. I mean life goes on, right?

I am done with fishing. I carelessly cast my line into water that appeared to be too shallow and rapid for any fish. I was just wasting some time. Just as I had truly put it out of my mind and had truly given up, I get a bite from the most unexpected area. (Not all that much different than the guys I meet at the grocery store or bank.) Not only did I get a bite that truly excited me, but I reeled the beautiful trout in. I have him in my hands. He is mine. As I prepare to put him away into my krill, he slips out of my hands, back into the river and swims away.

It was even worse to have gotten my interest and hopes of having a “keeper” to take home with me and then see him slip away than it would have been to have never seen a damn fish all day. (Do I even need to make a man to fish comparison here?)

I noticed many other fish hiding under the bridge and beneath some rocks on my walk back to the car. Yeah, I know they are out there. I know I’ll catch one. But why did I spend the rest of my day thinking of the one that got away?

And that, my friends, is why we compare catching mates to catching fish. Fish stink. Love stinks.

But you know what the kicker of all is? Despite knowing this, I feel like I am about to reel one in. No one in particular is in mind as I say this, but it's just a gut feeling...

One more thought…I realize that I have a severe attachment to parts of my mountains here in Georgia. (Notice how I called them “my” mountains?) As I was fishing in my hole along the river, another fisherman appeared out of nowhere. I never see anyone else there, so I was taken back just a little. What made it worse was that this guy was a jerk! He stood around acting as if he were waiting for me to leave! This is terrible fishing etiquette to begin with, but his rudeness appalled me as he moved right in and began throwing his line right next to mine! He was also a very loud and splashy fisherman, too. I glared at him and he overheard me mutter beneath my breath that “Well, if there were any fish around, there aren’t now!” He muttered something back. Then I told him, “You can’t push me out of here. I was here first! You don’t own this place!” He shot back at me, “And neither do you.” How I kept myself from beating this man into a bloody pulp is beyond me and not because of his words being a classic comeback, but because I truly do believe I own everything in the Chattahoochee National Forest…It’s my Blue Ridge Mountains, my hiking trails, my forest, my river, and my fishing hole! How dare he argue that!

I gotta go before I completely transform completely into an ugly creature and people begin to call me Gollum.