I’ve never been much of an entertainer; I really don’t like hosting get-togethers or having people to my house. Growing up, my parents we never really keen on me having friends over and I think it’s something that’s stuck with me. I feel completely out of my element when hosting.

I forget to ask if anyone would like drinks, I rarely have anything entertaining to occupy them with and well, I just all around suck at it. I get nervous prior to their arrival, which leads to pacing at the door and watching out the window for their car to come around the corner. My heart stops each time I see a car approach and can only relax once it passes the house.

Performance anxiety maybe? Not sure… is there a phobia for entertaining people/friends?

Yesterday I was away on a client appreciation day, and knew that I wanted to have someone come take care of my humble little abode and let the dog out. Knowing full well I needed to have someone I could trust, that wouldn’t freak out at the sight of my beautiful pit bull greeting her at the door and wouldn’t go painting the walls with urine and feces. (Kinda like I did to Karen. Oops. Love you Karen!) Redneck Mommy was an obvious choice; but only after I had sent out the email and her trying numerous (failing) attempts to log her ass into my site (ultimately just having to do it for her) I began to contemplate what I had done.

Was I going to find her sex toys in my bathroom sink? (Oh, how I’d love to link that post, but I just can’t find it.) Or is she going to abandon my dog to fend for herself after she rips down the wasps nest outside? I quickly overcame my anxieties and knew I had made the right decision. What harm could she really do?

And I was right, she was well behaved and oh! so! charming! (As usual. Bitch.)

Don’t worry T., you’ll always be my Dooce. *smooches*

With T. at the helm I was able to enjoy the fact that I was up at the ass crack of dawn (ha!), boarding a boat for a day of fishing.

Fishing!

I haven’t done that since I was nine years old, with a 10 dollar rod from the local hardware store. I remember sitting under the bridge with my brother when I caught my first fish. I reeled it in, so very proud; there wasn’t much tension on the rod when I could see small splashes of water skimming the surface just off shore. As I landed the fish, I slowly placed the flip flopping fish; what must have been about 6oz, on the bank of the river and gently pressed down with my shoe as I tried to unhook it. After a short struggle I realized that I hadn’t place my foot as lightly as I thought.

I squished my wee fish.

Yesterday, my first time fishing since that fateful day was really no different.

We cracked our first beers as the boat left dock at 6:05am. My fault entirely.

And my 11:30, it was my time to shine. We’d taken turns up to this point for each person to have a chance reeling in a fish, and my time had come. Three of the guys on the boat had caught 20lb fish each. I was pretrified that I would have one that large on the line and be fighting it for ever to get it to the boat. I wanted to just sit, observe and drink.

As the deckhand yelled “Fish ON!” everyone called my name, I wasn’t getting out of this one. I made a grab for the rod and started reeling like a mad woman, just praying I’d be able to hold on.

Reeling, reeling, reeling… it began getting lighter and lighter. I lost my fish; or so I thought.

I kept reeling to bring the hook and bait back to the boat, then realized there was something rather shiny bobbing at the end of my line.  A fish! A small fucking fish. These guys catch 20 pounders and I get a maybe 2 pound fish. Size of bait.

As the deck hand unhooked it, the fish flopped around the deck. Me, half in the bag, tried to pick it up as the guys grabbed for their cameras to mock me and my wee fish.

As I gripped its floppy and slimy body, I may have squeezed a little too hard for within seconds he was over the back of the boat. Gone. My wee fish! You never even said goodbye! With a collective groan from the 8 men on board with me, I watched my little fishy swim back to his school.

I arrived back on shore, sans fish, and a shred of pride since I knew that the other boat hadn’t even been that lucky.

But at least I caught something other then a buzz.

Which I promptly headed home to sleep off.

I forgot how tiring it was to be drunk before noon.

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