Full Moon Fishing Adventure and Mishaps

Glad to note no real werewolves (not those Twilight pansies) got me! But don't worry, keep reading. A long, but equally "worth it" story will follow.

Last night I went fishing with Brian Caruthers and Derrick, my hubby man. Brian was quite pleased to show off the this amazing speed boat he bought for $200 bucks and a little more than a thousand in repairs. What a steal of a deal!

We left about 4:00PM and got on the water at Stockton Lake around 5:30ish. Man, there was a lot of wind. When crossing the middle of the of the extremely choppy lake to get to a cove I realized my mistake of sitting on the side of the boat with a small railing while the boys were in comfy chairs. We hit a big wave and went airborne. Thankfully I didn't fly out of the boat or anything, but I landed down on a corner with such force I broke my butt and fell backwards into the boat. I have a hardcore, ugly, discolored, deep tissue and bone bruise to show for it. My recent gain of butt padding did not save me.

Anyways, just keep reading, it gets better. We started fishing and it was a slow start. But it provided a good learning experience because I never realized how much there is to know to be a good fisher. There are so many different types of baits, tools and fish. Then you have to be smart about reading the fishes mind, understanding what they want, where they want it, give it to them when they want it or they won't take it. I didn't say it at the time and it is sexist to myself really, but I kept wanting to say, "it's just like a woman!" Shame on me!







Pictured above is a Big Mouth Bass, Walleye and Small Mouth Bass

Brian caught a fish. Derrick and I caught a few sticks, rocks, and bushes. It was obvious Brian was a lot more skilled, but thankfully my luck started to turn when then full moon started coming up. Full moon fishing is so good because the fish can feed more because they can see the shadows due to the moonlight.

End totals-

Brian: 5 big mouth bass, 1 small mouth bass, and 1 walleye
Me: 2 big mouth bass (I am pictured with my second)
Derrick: Nill:(.

It was so much fun, but the story doesn't end here. A storm was starting to roll in and the waves were getting stronger. It was time to head home. Brian sat in the drivers seat to turn on the engine...and it barely rolls. Our battery is dead, its dark at almost 10:00PM, the storm is coming, we in an area with huge quarry rocks on the shore making a safe beaching near impossible and we aren't near a dock.


Against the rolling waves and wind Derrick and I had to paddle the heavy boat while Brian had to work our barely moving trolling motor trying to keep us strait. Thankfully we had been fishing close to a fairly high rise bride which spanned the cove. Although it was close it took us quite a bit of time just to paddle our way to the man-made face of huge quarry rocks stacked up to the bridge (pictured to the left is the exact view looking across the bridge we had).

Already having our strength wearing down our boat was scraping the bottom against the huge rocks. Brian and I braced ourselves against the rock face and hoisted Derrick up to get the truck about 3 plus miles away. It was hard for Brian and I. We keep looking across the bridge hoping for headlights coming towards us. With the water getting stronger we had to position ourselves and hold on the rock face pushing and pulling just to keep the boat from bottoming out and us from falling off the side of the boat. To make it worse this rock was covered in spiders. There was only one random pill bug amongst the spiders and their egg sacks to keep me sane. Oh, and the fun doesn't end there...the boat is taking on water making it even hard to control. Our strength is wearing out and our muscles are on fire.

No one would stop for Derrick. Being asthmatic and wore from the paddling he keep running and walking the best he could. Finally a family picked him up about a 1/4 mile away from the truck. Derrick drove it over to the side of the bridge we had been fighting against for an hour. He quickly checked on us and went back up the side to remove the starter battery of the truck so we can jump the boat. Ten more minutes pass and Derrick comes back down the side to our aid. Of course, this particular battery doesn't have the prongs on it making possible to jump. Brian and Derrick switched spots back and forth bracing against the rock and trying to the battery attempting hot wire it, rig, anything and nothing is working. Derrick then figured out a way to make a connection and the boat charges. I ran back and forth quickly from the rock face trying to turn the key. More minutes pass while the battery is charging and still no turn over.

Losing most of our wits and strength, Brian debated getting back in the truck, buying a battery and bringing it back. I had been cool and collected until this point. I about broke out in tears and admitted I couldn't hold the boat for another hour while Brian searched out a store in another small town that would actually be open and have a battery. I didn't even know how much longer I really could hold on period. None of us could.

Derrick right before the engine was discovered to be dead

That's when we decided we needed to collectively pray . We were stuck, the storm was strengthening and we running out of options. While Derrick said the prayer and Brian and I clung onto the rocks it felt like we were Peter of the Bible terrified of the storm. But we had faith. While we did not have Jesus literally calm the sea (or lake in our case) Derrick suddenly had inspiration to remove a spliced in wire and choose to try to jump one more time. The engine sputtered. Another minute passed while we attempted to further charge the battery. More sputtering, and then lights on the boat came on. The engine came to life. We were going to make it out.

After hoisting Derrick back up the rock face to reinstall the battery and meet us at the dock across the lake we pushed off. As Brian and I sped across the lake there was was rush of relief. At arriving at the dock we clung on once more and waited for Derrick. Derrick came and we lowered the trailer into the water. The engine even started once more and we removed the boat out of the water smoothly.

Out of the water Brian checked the damage since we had hit rocks several times. Guess what? It seems damage no had occurred to the boat. God is good.

We made it home at 1:00AM with minimal werewolf encounters under the full moon:).

Slashing?

An acquaintance of mine in my high school graduating class said today, "never thought she'd see the day when one of her classmates made national news for a criminal act:(."

I am in the same boat with her. It is surreal enough to see all your peers from high school getting married, having kids, making it big, passing away, etc, but this? A classmate slashing a deans throat?

http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/09/16/1290750/police-man-who-stabbed-dean-targeted.html
http://www.kansascity.com/2010/09/15/2227388/nixon-was-intended-target-of-assailant.html
http://ozarksfirst.com/search-fulltext?nxd_id=326615
http://www.kansascity.com/2010/09/15/2226205/suspect-in-penn-valley-stabbing.html
http://www.news-leader.com/article/20100916/NEWS01/9160358/Slashing-suspect-suffered-from-mental-illness-mother-said


Casey Brezik was a mutual "friend." We were not close. I always had this vibe he wasn't that fond of me and I always had an unsettled feeling around him. I took a lot of time from the friend we both shared. I was the best friend to our shared friend. The shared friend hung out with Casey but was more annoyed with him at times. Other than what seemed to be a dislike for me and being occasionally rude, Casey was nice. And I really do mean it when I say he was nice. But he was also quite a strange person. Not a typical person you meet on the street in ideology or in how he communicated with people. I didn't agree with him or approve in most cases, but you can't judge a person just off of ideology or weird quirks. Some of the best and most amazing people are not socially inept or are radical thinkers of time. Sadly, Casey went too far.

Like what a lot of us expected is that he was "off" in some way to mental illness. At least that's what they are saying now. Various reports are saying he is a schizophrenic and a pot smoker. But still, I wouldn't expect his off him. That hardened booking picture doesn't even embody the kid I remember.
Thankfully the dean is recovering and I hope the Dean's family is getting the support through the traumatic event that they need. But I also hope those in Casey's family aren't forgotten. They must be heartbroken for they are victims too.

Baby Got Back

There might actually be hope for me. I might actually be able to dance to Sir Mix A Lot's "Baby Got Back," without feeling like a total sham. For you see I have been gaining weight. Before you women readers who know me collectively feel or follow the urge to post a comment along the lines of "Gail, OMG, shut the bloody heck up before I punch you in the face, because you still freakin' look like a desirable anorexic by media standards," I ask you to hear me out and let me revel for a moment in my glory...

Growing up I have always had an obsession for anything scientific or medical. This love lead to me watching A LOT of shows on plastic surgery on daytime t.v.. For the most part I couldn't relate to the patients themselves. For example, I will never know the joys of having a breast reduction after years of pain or had yet feel the need for liposuction. But one day, revelation happened. A small Chinese girl on one of the shows came in to get- butt implants! I felt such pleasure as I watched the doctor prepping her for surgery as he rainbow sharpied her pitifully small, flat top hiney...which was just like my own sad excuse for a posterior. I knew I had to have a silicon butt for myself someday.

Then... I saw the price tag. Yikes! I don't remember what it was exactly how much it was, but I do remember me slowly expelling the previous breath with weight of crushed dreams. It seems I would perpetually be a victim of butt rumples in jeans and booty shorts would always be a mere fancy for my fabulous friends.

But ladies, my moment of glory has come. I wore booty shorts yesterday and they looked good. You know, the kind you wear to look sexy-sexy for your husband when he comes home and you pray to your God that your neighbors won't see you somehow through the deceivingly closed blinds ; although, if you live in a neighborhood like mine, you would be merely fitting in wearing shorts up your crack. Moreover, the last couple of days I have noticed my jeans are a lot more flush and rounded. Hallelujah!

The cause, yes, before that desire rises again in your throat to write nasty comment, is weight gain. I swear this isn't the first weight gain cycle (yes, I know you don't believe me), but this is the first one, maybe due to getting older, I have a nice bun and breast set to feel normal in. It so satisfying to look down either side of my body and not see Kansas. Even the husband commented how cute I look, and how I look better now than when we were first married and sporting a 5'8"-5'9", 105 lbs. body. If you know my husband, compliments are almost non-existent so you know it is serious and the desirable trait MUST BE HELD ON TO. It seems being a worthless excuse for a human being-couch potato with no job so far and no classes this semester has paid off.

The problem? What will happen to my new set of jewels when I start being a productive member of society again? What will happen when I finally internalize I haven't exercised since December and I really should do that again? I'll tell you what will happen. POOF! Gone. Disappointment. Body image confusion. Sad husband. My curse and gift from God, the ability to lose weight for doing things like finger dancing to much, will take me.

But until reality sets in that I can't be immobile and slothful the rest of my days, I will enjoy dancing to Sir Mix A Lot's one hit wonder and shaking my gluteous maximus with not as much guilt. No more than for a few minutes though or back to mosquito bites or mono-butt is sure to follow.

All the Mormon Ladies

Now sing that title to Beyonces "Single Ladies!"

Whoa, it has been a long time without blogging. Well, here is a random thought. Just bare with me.

I love to wear modest long shorts/skirts with long tops. It looks good on my body type. I am pretty tall and thin so the length in clothing doesn’t make me look shorter or any less shapely. Actually it makes me more so because the additional fabric layers to make more false curves in my otherwise not-so-curvy body shape. But what does make me look a fashion fool is most mid-height neck lines that typically fall below the collar bone by no further than a inch. You know, the ones most Mormon ladies wear if they haven’t chosen a high neck line garment for the day. I have a long neck and extremely long torso; a mid-height neck line makes it look like my boobs have been melted. So what do I do? I wear a high neck line or show a minute amount of cleavage with a lower neck line.

This has leaded me to not think ill of a Mormon woman showing a little cleavage. I know to a lot of people, like the one lady in my Ward who always gives me dirty looks on my cleavage days, it may matter, but really, my undergarments are more than covered so I don’t really care. I still have many callings and respect from my leaders. Obviously I am not TOO offensive.

But this last Sunday a woman in my Ward wore a dress that was about 3 1/2 inches off the knee. My first thought was how immodest this person was and confusion on how were certain garments weren’t showing. But then I thought about it and realized I was being judgmental. This dress looked AMAZING on her. It showed off her legs perfectly without being risqué. With her body type her bottom garments would come up higher; just like how my garments on my top naturally lay really low due to my body type. Though, I couldn’t have a dress that high off the knee modestly because of how my own garments tend to lay on my body shape.

That instant made me realize that we all have different body types that can “get away” with different things. Most, I imagine, judge more harshly what they themselves cannot get away with. Also, some can’t help some things, such as women with bigger breasts will always battle their revealing necklines. As LDS sisters, we have to keep this in mind. As long as it is not blatantly distasteful and against modestly standards we need to make a fuss within our internal or external selves.

This is my personal opinion. If it covers, it’s cool. If it doesn’t show the stitching in your bra, underwear lines, or the article of clothing isn’t struggling to stay in its intended shape- it isn’t too tight. As Mormon women we need not to dress ourselves in bags and treat our bodies like something shameful. Too many LDS women have this idea that modesty is dressing in things as shapeless and baggy as our male counterparts. We are allowed to look good AS WOMEN and that means more than simply wearing a skirt or dress. Personally, I feel best when I look sexy. No, I don’t want to steal the hearts of men other than my husband, but it just makes me feel beautiful. Sexy doesn’t always mean mini-skirts, ultra cleavage and tube tops. It just means you look hot by dressing to your body type. End. Of. Story.