Naples...An Education

I’m about to head back to work and realize that I need to get all of my travel blogs done. So where were we? Ah yes, I was heading to Naples, Italy. From Naples we would drive to Pompeii to tour the city and hike Mt. Vesuvius. I had never hiked a volcano, so I was very excited about the prospect. It was an eight-hour day and let’s just say, I learned a lot of, um, well, hmm, interesting facts about Pompeii’s extra-curricular activities. 

Pompeii:

As previously discussed, I didn’t wear the headphones on these tours. I’m not into having things touch me when it’s 100 degrees out and I’m surrounded by thousands of people. Looking back, I probably should have worn the headphones in Pompeii. It would have saved this semi-conservative girl quite a few shocks.

Walking through the city:

Travel Companion: So that’s where they kept the gladiators. You know, women used to pay A LOT of money to be with gladiator.

Me: I know. I’ve seen the movie Gladiator. I know all about it. Anyway, do you hear her keep saying look at the arrows in the stone walkways?

Travel Companion: Yeah.

Me: Is it just me, but I’m not seeing arrows, I’m seeing, um…

Travel Companion: You’re not seeing things. That’s a penis. It’s a penis carved into a stone walkway.

Me: I knew it! Is she saying why?

Travel Companion: She keeps saying that it’s pointing to some street that we’ll go down.

Me: Huh. Um. Okay. Weird.

Travel Companion: Yeah. I’m gonna take a picture of it.

Waiting in line to enter a small building:

Me: Why do I keep hearing her say, “It was like McDonald’s?”

Travel Companion: I have no idea. I hope this line moves fast, it’s so hot out here.

Me (as we enter): OH! MY! GOSH! WHAT IS GOING ON?

Travel Companion: YES! Best thing I’ve seen the whole trip. I get the McDonald’s reference. Look at the menu!

Me: This used to be a whore house! So gross. What is going on. Oh! My! Gosh! Stop taking pictures of “the menu.”

Travel Companion: This is fantastic. I can probably tell you the names…

Me: Stop. No. Stop talking. Well, at least we have an answer about the “arrows” now.

Mt. Vesuvius:

And so after being scarred for life, we headed to Mt. Vesuvius. Did I mention that we would be hiking this volcano at 1pm in 100 degree weather? Did I mention that at this point my body had swelled so much that it probably looked like I was five months pregnant? Oh, did I mention that this isn’t like hiking a mountain, where as you climb it gets cooler? No! As you climb, in the ash, it only gets hotter. Like Hell.

Look at my face. No, a bee didn’t sting me. Freaking Mediterranean heat!

I was willing to put all of this aside because I was hiking a volcano. Now, I think we know that I have a tendency to romanticize things. So, while I was hiking this beast of a volcano all I could think about was that movie Dante’s Peak. I kept thinking I was going to see some lava. HELLO! If there were lava, we’d be in trouble. So when I got to the top and saw this…. I was a little annoyed.

DIRT! Anyway. We stayed up there for about thirty minutes and enjoyed the view of Pompeii. Then this happened:

Travel Companion 1: I really don't feel like walking down.

Me: It won't be that bad. At least it's down hill.

Travel Companion 2: I seriously wish there was a car to take us down.

Travel Companion 3: It will be fine. Suck it up.

Me: Hey travel companion 3, can you take one more picture of me and the view?

A few minutes later:

Me: Where did the guys go?

Travel Companion 2: See you guys down there! HA HA HA!

Travel Companion 3: Did that seriously just happen?

Me: It happened. That might be the laziest thing I've ever encountered.

Travel Companion 3: I'm going to say some not nice things when we get down there.

Thirty minutes later:

Me: I hate you all. Lazy. Just lazy.

Travel Companion 1: If it makes you feel better the driver gave us a really hard time. "You don't let ladies take the car? You not a gentleman."

Me: Couldn't have said it better myself.

After a day of education, exercise, and heat, we went to get some pizza. It was good. I liked it. I came home and ate at Beau Joe's and felt the same way about their pizza. Isn't this just awful? 

I went to Naples and all I got were some awkward memories...at least it was more enjoyable than Athens, Greece.  And I think we can all agree that after being considered a Turkish Tramp, this was quite the change. 

Next up? My trip to Vatican City...

Slurring S's & Rolling R's

I know. I know. “Dayna! Finish your travel blogs. You still have three cities and two countries to tell us about.” I will, but this is fresh in my mind and I think all the travel writing was giving me nightmares.

A few blogs back, I wrote about the repressed memory of one Mr. Nick LeMasters. I was soon chastised by Cousin Jenny’s “unidentified man friend” for not revealing my own childhood horrors. Well, a recent text from Cousin Jenny brought some really troubling memories to the surface.

A few years ago, my mom and I were talking…

Me: I think I have a lisp.

Mom: Yeah. You do.

Me: WOW! Thanks. You’re supposed to say, “No, Dayna! Your voice is great.”

Mom: No, seriously, you do. In kindergarten they wanted to make you go through some speech classes because you quote, “roll your r’s and slur your s’s.”

Me: Are you kidding me? How are you just telling me this?

Mom: I didn’t enroll you because I felt slightly offended.

Me: Oh. My. Gosh. This is horrifying. So not only was I chubby, but I had a lisp.

Mom: I thought you were cute and sounded cute.

Me: This may be why I’m single, just so you know.

Mom: I don’t think it’s that. I think it’s because you’re anti-social.

Me: And I think we’re done here. 

This has always been a bit of a hot button issue. Like you never say, “Dayna, say Mississippi.” So when I received the following text from Cousin Jenny yesterday, I was less than thrilled…

Jenny: I can see you rocking out an old apron while baking and thinking it’s fashionable. Also, I think you should be at Comic Con in San Diego.

Me: You are so odd. The image you have of me in your mind is like a weird mix of June Cleaver, Jess from New Girl, Oprah, Kate Middleton, and Tina Fey. It’s bizarre.

Jenny: Give yourself some credit. I’d say at least Reese Witherspoon.

Me: What version of Reese Witherspoon are we talking? Are we talking Legally Blonde, Sweet Home Alabama, or Walk the Line Reese Witherspoon?

Jenny: Oh. Geez. I don’t know. Like the cute lisp version.

Me: Don’t text me anymore. We’re done.

Jenny: That was a COMPLIMENT!

And there you have it. The lost childhood memory of Dayna LeMasters, brought to light by Reese Witherspoon.

Note: Cousin Jenny may have ruined Pleasantville for me. Just sayin’

You Military, Nick LeMasters?

Tomorrow my dad, Nick LeMasters, turns the big 5-4. We’re headed up to the mountains for some pizza, ice cream, duck feeding, and relief from the heat. HOLLA!

I think it’s pretty clear that my dad is up there on my list of entertaining people. I’d also like to add that he has come to be important in the lives of many of you lovely readers. How do I know this? Well, from the lovely young-lady that went up to him in TJ Maxx to say hello. Why is this an interesting tidbit…she knows him from Facebook and my blog. I was SO excited to hear this. Like I literally clapped my hands and yelled, “I’m making you famous. This is so exciting!” He just shook his head, but we all secretly know he loved it.

Over the past 90 blogs (can you believe it), we’ve come to appreciate the man, the legend, the Republican, Nick LeMasters. It seems that the lady at the cleaners also has the measure on him.

People have often told me that when they see my dad, he always has on a white-starched-shirt. This is funny to me, because I usually think of him wearing ties. I was so accustomed to him wearing a tie that I was thrown for a loop a few months back…

Me: Didn’t you just get home?

Dad: Yes.

Me: Where’s your tie? Did you take it off on the way home?

Dad: No. I didn’t wear one today. I went with the open-collar look.

Me: What is going on here? What is happening? Are you going through something? Oh. My. Gosh. Are you having an affair? I can’t deal with that. You know everyone will call me and make me deal with the effects of this. Oh. My. Gosh. WHAT IS GOING ON?

Dad: You need to calm down. I just didn’t feel like wearing a tie today.

Me: You’ve been wearing a tie since before I was born. I feel really weird right now.

Dad: I’m just trying something new. People have said I come off an intimidating sometimes. I think the whole “no tie thing” might help.

Me: Wow. This is troubling.

Dad: You so don’t do well with change.

Me: Whatever. Put your freaking tie back on!

The ties may have left, but the starched-shirts have stayed. Which is where this lovely story comes in…

Dad: So I’m going to a new cleaners.

Me: Why?

Dad: They are half the price.

Me: Okay.

Dad: That’s not the point of the story. The lady that works there, this sweet little Asian woman, kind of freaked me out.

Me: Do tell.

Dad: Well, the conversation went like this (please read the following with my dad doing a little accent in your mind).

Nick LeMasters: Can you put a crease on the sleeves of the button-up shirts?

Cleaner: You military?

Nick LeMasters: No.

Cleaner: You aren’t military, but you like crease? That weird.

Picking shirts up…

Cleaner: You not military, but you like crease? You weird. You go to church around here?

Nick LeMasters: Yes.

Cleaner: Where you go to church around here?

Nick LeMasters: I’m Mormon. I go to church down the street.

Cleaner: You Mormon? Mormons conservative people.

Nick LeMasters: Yes, I’m Republican.

Cleaner: You read Grapes of Wrath?

Nick LeMasters: Um. Wow. Yes. I read it last year for the first time. Have you read Of Mice & Men?

Cleaner: Of Mice & Men softer. That softer book.

Nick LeMasters: Okay. Yeah. I have to be off.

Cleaner: You not military, but you like creases. You weird.

Nick LeMasters: Okay. See you!

Later:

Me: Oh. My. Gosh. So funny! She totally has the measure on you. Can we also discuss the fact that she thinks Of Mice & Men is a soft book? Does she not remember the puppy murder scene?

Dad: I know. It’s weird though, right, the fact that she knew me?

Me: If it was me, I’d stop going there immediately, but that’s because I’m anti-social. You like that stuff. You like the small talk.

Dad: You’re not being helpful.

Me: You got the creases and it was cheaper, right?

Dad: Yes.

Me: Then you weird/conservative/Steinbeck lover…you keep going.

Button-Ups Through the Ages:

 And of course this...Intimidating, really?

Dayna LeMasters...Turkish Tramp

Next stop on Dayna’s European Adventure? Istanbul, Turkey. Istanbul, not Constantinople. I highly suggest a visit to anywhere in Turkey. I can honestly say it was by far my favorite part of the trip. Well…until this happened.

Before setting out for our tour of Istanbul we were informed that both men and women must have their knees covered and women must have their shoulders covered in order to enter the mosques. Now, I was fine with this, even though it was 100 degrees out. No problem. I even had the following conversation:

Me: In all honesty do you think this shirt is okay?

Travel Companion: Dayna. It’s fine. I’ve never seen you wear anything that they would think to be inappropriate.

Me: Okay. I think I’m okay. I mean I’m Mormon. I know all about magic underwear. It will be fine. If worse comes to worse I’ll just scream “I’m Mormon! We don’t do naked shoulders.”

Travel Companion: Yeah. You do that and I’ll scream out I’m Jewish…let’s see how far we get in that mosque.

Me: Whatever. I’m feeling good. I’m feeling confident with my choice.

See choice above.

Now before heading to The Blue Mosque, we visited St. Sophia’s…where this conversation happened.

Me: Who is that a portrait of?

Travel Companion 1: Seriously, Dayna? It’s The Virgin Mary and Jesus, even I know that and I’m Jewish.

Travel Companion 2: Oh. My. Gosh. What kind of household did you grow up in?

Me: I feel very confused right now. I don’t know what’s going on. I thought we were in a mosque, not a Catholic church. There are portraits of Jesus with Arabic words in a mosque. WHAT IS GOING ON?

Travel Companion 3: This is why you wear the headphones and radios they give you. The guide is talking about all this.

Me: No. False. This is why you travel with people who wear the headphones and listen to the guide. I’m not doing that, it makes me anxious, and also it’s bad enough I have to wear these little number stickers, I’m not walking around with headphones on.

Travel Companion 3: The British conquered Istanbul and turned these into churches…and some other BS that doesn’t really matter.

Me: See? Perfect. I don’t need headphones.

We then headed to The Blue Mosque...

Travel Companion: You do know that you have to take your shoes off to go inside, right?

Me: Yeah, I know. I'm not going to lie, it's kind of grossing me out. I mean, thousands of people walk through there daily. I really think I might leave with a foot fungus. Also, I've been wearing TOMS all day and I'm slightly concerned about the smell. Oh. Also. I think my feet are swollen, so getting my shoes back on may be an issue. Oh. Also. Do we think it's weird we'll be watching people pray? But yeah, let's do this!

Travel Companion: You truly think of the weirdest things.

Me: I know. I'm not proud of it.

We arrived at The Blue Mosque. I could smell some strangeness immediately. Not wanting people to smell something odd and think it was me, I headed to a secluded corner and removed my shoes. At this point I lost sight of my travel companions.

After removing my shoes I headed for the entrance. This is when it happened. The moment that will forever leave me thinking, "TRAMP!" 

Guard: Miss! Miss! Miss! Excuse me.

Me: Yes?

Guard: No. No. No. You can't go in like that. Absolutely not. Here, put a scarf around your shoulders.

Me: Oh. Um. Right. Yes. Okay.

I wrapped myself in a scarf and headed to the entrance with my head down in shame. That is until I saw that 3/6 of us were stopped for dress code violations. That's when I got the giggles. Not normal, this will stop in a second giggles. No. I got a full on giggle attacks. Look at us...what a bunch of tramps.

The first thing I asked when we left? How many people do you think wore that today? Because, in all honesty, I feel a little itchy.

You'll be glad to know my shoes fit (barely). You'll also be glad to know that soon after that I found a Turkish Starbucks and immediately wrote an email to my family telling them that I am in fact "A Turkish Tramp."

Turkish Delight

I know at this point in time, you’ve begun to think to yourself, “Geez, Dayna! Did you like anything about Europe?” Yes. Yes, I did. It was a little place called Turkey. I adored it. It was hot as hell, but beautiful and fascinating.

The photo above was taken before we set off on our excursion of Kusadasi. Please note my skin color…porcelain. I like to keep it that way. I’ve never been tan in my life and when I do try to get some sun I just turn different shades of red. Worthless. This fun little fact will be important as you continue to read.

We started our day in Ephesus, a city where only 10% of the ruins have been uncovered. I think I enjoyed this day because I had a full night sleep in a real bed and a shower. Well, “shower.” We’ve discussed the fact that I was about 2 feet too tall for the shower, but I digress. It was an amazing city and I truly enjoyed my time there…except for the lady who let off an SBD in an enclosed area. WHO DOES THAT? This was also the point in time when my face melted right off.

Following this tour you are led to a small Bazaar, where the shopkeepers swarm you. They scream out “Special deal. Special deal.” Right. What am I going to do with three Turkish rugs for 20 dollars? I’m out.

One of my travel companions did indulge in some Turkish Delight. I was SO excited for this. I kept thinking, “Finally. Finally I’ll know why Edmund would sell out his sister and Mr. Tumnus to The White Witch.” I’m here to tell you that Edmund, from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe was in fact a toolbag. He sold his sister and a little fawn out for a hard jelly-like, powdered covered, not that flavorful candy. Tool. Bag. I didn’t hate it, but I wouldn’t sell out a family member for it. Maybe a Sour Patch Kid. 

I decided to save my money for the small Bazaar we would visit before boarding the ship. I spent a small fortune of lanterns, and bowls, and jewelry. Now, I don’t consider myself a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I was kind-of-sort-of offended by the following exchange…

As I walked down one of the streets with a travel companion, shop keepers where screaming out, “Come to my shop! I make you special deal.” I was over being there and didn’t turn to look. That’s when I hear…

Shop Keeper: She’s pretty. How many camels you want for her?

Travel Companion: I kind of like her and I don’t need any camels, I think I'll keep her.

Me: Oh. My. Gosh. Is he talking about me?!?

Travel Companion: Yeah. Just keep walking.

Shop Keeper: I give you camels for her.

Me: Awkward laughter (as I keep walking)

Shop Keeper: Oh. I see. You’re an angry American. You’re like Angelina Jolie with your white skin.

Really? Really? A camel? Those things are dirty and they spit! REALLY? Oh and really? You’re going to bring up my white skin. REALLY?

This of course turned into a conversation at dinner that night.

Travel Companion 1: You are like Casper the Friendly Ghost. I mean honestly, one of the whitest women I’ve ever seen. Like you take white to a new level.

Me: Whatever. I think I’m worth at least 10 camels, by the way.

Travel Companion 2: Dayna, don’t sell yourself short. You would go for at least 15.

Me: Wow. Thanks. Stop talking.

Later in the week I received an email from a friend in the states saying she would pay at least two camels for me. What the hell? And lets be honest…I’m worth a lion. The king of the jungle and I are equals. 

My Big Fat Visit To Greece

First stop on my whirlwind tour of Europe? Athens, Greece. Now, I should forewarn you all that my tour of Athens took place following a three-hour flight from London, England. A flight where I sat in the middle seat and woke up with hot flashes every 20 minutes. We arrived at 3am…

Upon arriving to a deserted airport, I insisted that we take some time to clean ourselves up in the bathroom, as we hadn’t showered in 24 hours. I changed clothes, I put my hair up, I washed my face, I almost cried because I knew we still had a 12-hour day ahead of us. WELCOME TO GREECE!

An hour later we headed out into the Mediterranean morning. This is where we caught a cab. Now it should be stated that I’m not really a cab person. Like they kind of freak me out. My travel companion asked the driver to take us to the dock to board a cruise ship.

As we sat in the back of the cab, I kept thinking, “Oh. My. Gosh. This is The Bone Collector. Oh. My. Gosh. This guy is taking us to an undisclosed location to murder us. Oh. My. Gosh. I’m going to die.” Of course you’re thinking I’m ridiculous and over-reacting. REALLY? REALLY? You didn’t sit in a cab at 4am, driving in the middle of the high way, at 100mph, while your travel companion kept looking at the map with a concerned look on her face, followed by us taking an exit with graffiti filled buildings. WELCOME TO GREECE!

We arrived at the dock at 4:30am, where we would wait until 7am for the ship to dock. Did I mention he dropped us on the wrong side of the dock, so we arrived at our dock after a 30-minute walk? I know what you’re thinking, isn’t this the country with all the protest going on? Yes. Yes it is. WELCOME TO GREECE!

We waited. The boat arrived. We had 30 minutes to freshen up before heading out on an eight-hour tour. Oh. My. Gosh. Isn’t that the theme to Gilligan’s Island? Anyway, I digress.

We saw some ruins. It was hot. We saw some sculptures. It was hot. We went shopping. It was hot. I found a Starbucks…that rocked my world. Why? Free Wi-Fi that worked. Holla!

Also, this wonderful conversation happened…

Travel Companion: Who is that a sculpture of?

Me: I think it’s Zeus.

Travel Companion: No. Sign says Poseidon.

Two minutes later...

Travel Companion: Who is that a sculpture of?

Me: It’s the same face as the last one. Must be Poseidon.

Travel Companion: No. Sign says Zeus.

Me: Oh. My. Gosh. This is bullshit.

Travel Companion: Yeah. I think I’m done with this. Also, why are all the genitals cut off?

Me: Seriously. I’m really wishing I would have stayed on the boat and showered.

Travel Companion: Right? Yeah. I definitely smell like a homeless person.

I love that I look so happy in this picture. "I'm in Greece! Take my picture." No. What is happening in that mind of mine? "I'm literally going to kick someone in the face soon. What is that smell? Oh. My. Gosh. I think it's me."

Note: This blog may not present an accurate description of Athens, Greece. I can not be held responsible for my feelings on only three hours of sleep. 

Tell the Truth, Dayna

When you tell people you’re going to Europe, there is always the obligatory gasp. This is typically followed by the phrase, “I’m so jealous.” Sometimes people ask where in Europe you’re going and what you will be seeing. Then, if people have been to Europe, they tell you all about their trip. They make it sound majestic. I swear after talking to people I thought I was going to be in the film Roman Holiday. I kept thinking a Gregory Peck like man and I are going to ride around on a Vespa in Rome. I’m going to look like this…

I am here to tell you that this is all a ridiculous scam. People don’t tell the truth. They remember the amazing scenery, but block out the bits where they don’t shower for twenty-four hours because they’re on a plane. I’m here to tell you the truth about travel in Europe. As my cousin would say, “Dayna! Tell the truth.”

Before you freak out and think I’m committing some horrific crime against society, I will say calm down. Europe is beautiful and I loved my time there. I get it. I know that when I say I took the train from Paris to Rome it creates an image straight from a Harry Potter film. I just want to clear up some miscommunications. I now know the truth…so here we go.

The Boat:

When I told people I was going on a cruise of Europe, they freaked out. HOW AMAZING! HOW EXCITING! I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO A MEDITERRANIAN CRUISE! I’VE DONE THAT, IT’S SO AMAZING!

Here is what no one ever tells you. The shower on the boat is literally for an Oompa Loompa, okay? I had to literally stick my leg outside the shower in order to shave my legs. I was taller than the showerhead, so I had to squat down to wash my hair.

Here is what no one ever tells you. There are “At Sea Days.” I knew this going in. What I didn’t expect was for the unexpected “Two Days At Sea.” No one tells you that after one day on the water, with no stops, you begin to have what I have coined “The Shining Moments.” Moments when you think to yourself, I can totally relate to Jack Nicholson right now. Let me tell you, this was a low point. When you start relating to a horror film, you’ve got issues.

Here is what no one ever tells you. James Cameron is a LIAR! Remember that magical moment in Titanic when Rose and Jack are on the front of the boat and she says, “Jack, I’m flying.” TOTAL LIE! The front of the boat is freaking dangerous. It is so windy you can barely walk. I swear I got wind burned. My hair hit me so hard in the eye that it started watering. There I was with my camera, all ready for my front of the boat picture…what a sucker!

The Sites:

People are always keen to tell you what sites to visit. They say how breathtaking everything is. How stunning everything is. What they don’t tell you is that these sites are like Disneyland. I think we’ve all been to Disneyland at one time or another when they say, “Sorry, The Matterhorn is closed for construction.” Who knew, Buckingham Palace was the same way? I had this in mind…

What did I get?

WHAT THE HELL?

A separate blog will be coming about The Vatican. I will tease it by saying, that is the biggest scam in history. 

The Train:

You’re still thinking about The Hogwarts Express when I mention the train in Europe, aren’t you? Get that out of your head. Oh. My. Gosh. I will start by saying that I can never go to jail. Like seriously. I wouldn’t last ten minutes in a cell. Everyone tells you to take the train in Europe. The scenery! Oh, my!

No. False. What don’t they tell you? You’ll probably catch the train at night, so you can sleep, making the European Country Side a little fantasy. They will also not mention that all of the stops are covered in graffiti, making me wonder if I’m still in the US. They won’t mention that a double-sleeper is really more like a closet and you won’t be able to turn around in it. They won’t mention that you will be nervous about sleeping on the bed and will probably wrap your pillow in a North Face jacket. The best little tidbit that they will leave out? Italian Police officers will pound on your door at 1am for your passport and when you open the door you will be barreled over by a drug-sniffing dog. Doesn’t that just sound magical?

Totally wishing you were me, aren't you?

Your Phone:
Before leaving for Europe I knew I needed to turn off 3G because the roaming charges are ridiculous. "It doesn't really matter, everyone has WiFi." REALLY? REALLY?

What people don't tell you is that finding WiFi is a pain. Then when you do find it, your phone doesn't connect. The only place it did work? Starbucks. You know there is an issue when you're about to walk into the Turkish Bazaar or The Louvre and you think, "Oh. My Gosh. STARBUCKS! Hold on just a second."

Turkish Starbucks, friends.
Your Body:

The number of times I heard the phrase, “Oh! The pictures you will take.” They leave out one of the most important things a woman needs to know…

You will bloat. Between elevation change, constipation, lack of sleep, and the freaking Mediterranean heat, you will bloat. Like your face will look as if you got stung by a bee. Like you can just eat pineapple on the boat and your stomach will be bloated. So, when you take pictures, your face will look like this…

So glamorous...

But then you will get pictures like this...

Making the lies and bloating and heat all worth it.

Note: Break down of country visits to come. Stay tuned.

Confessions of a Cheesy Movie Lover

You know what I hate? When people ask what my favorite book is or my favorite movie is. You’re wondering why, of course. It’s because every time someone says, “Dayna, what is your favorite book?” I feel like I have to lie.

Those are the moments when some arbitrary, ridiculous, poorly written novel titles come to mind. I can’t scream out Can You Keep A Secret? or Harry Potter or God help me, (whisper) a Nicholas Sparks novel.

No. I always scream out Pride & Prejudice or The Catcher in the Rye or The Great Gatsby. Let’s be honest, those books are great, but I don’t grab them when I’m looking for some light and fun reading. I never imagine myself as the protagonist. I never think of these novels at the gym. I just think they’re well written.

I am convinced people do the same things with movies. We can never just come out and say, “Listen, I get sucked into Legally Blonde every time it’s on TV.” No. We answer with the movies that people will probably respect.

Don’t lie. I know you’re all sitting here thinking of that ONE movie you keep off your list. That one movie you bought on Amazon.com because you didn’t want to walk out of a store with it. Don’t lie.

And so…I present to you my public and private list of movies.

Public List:

5. Pride & Prejudice

4. Saving Private Ryan

3. Out of Africa

2. The Philadelphia Story

1. Roman Holiday

The Movies That Suck Me In…The Movies I Secretly Love To Watch:

5. You’ve Got Mail

4. Pure Country

3. Cast Away

2. Sweet Home Alabama

1. Titanic

Don’t lie. I know The Money Pitt totally just crossed your mind. Maybe Overboard? The Goonies! I know the Goonies was in your thoughts for a nanosecond.

Nick LeMasters: Victim of Boy Scout Hazing

Please refer to the above picture…I think we all know why he was hazed.

Tonight was full of secrets being revealed at Casa de LeMasters. I was shocked. I was horrified. I was entertained beyond belief. And so, my blog friends, I give to you the repressed “Nick LeMasters Childhood Memory.”

I sat on the patio chatting with my parents and this is what occurred:

Mom: Dayna, ask dad about his Boy Scout memory.

Me: Wow! What? You were in Boy Scouts? You have never told me this.

Dad: Yeah, for about two weeks.

Mom: I KNOW! He’s never told ME about this.

Me: Do I want to hear this? Is this like a creepy “Saturday Night Live Skit?”

Dad: It was early in my scouting life. We were at a campout at a location long since forgotten. All I know is that there were a lot of trees involved. I was initiated into the world of scouting.

The scoutmaster was Mr. John Casayrre. There were a couple of scout minions (following his majesty's orders) who tied me up to a tree. I swear one was an Eagle Scout.

Turns out Mr. Casayrre was quite the tool bag.

I was tied to a tree and was going to learn all about being a scout. This included Mr. Casayrre barking out questions about scouting, that I was forced to answer…while tied to a tree.

You’re wondering, what happened when I answered incorrectly, aren’t you? Well, Mr. Casayrre (the tool bag) sprayed me with a fire extinguisher filled with water…while I was tied to a tree. This was the same extinguisher that was supposed to put out our campfire.

The best part? Every time I answered a question I would have to say, “Yes sir, Mr. Casayrre, sir.” If I didn’t say it? I got the hose…all while tied to a tree.

Needless to say, I quite after two weeks.

Me: That is horrifying! Can I blog about this?
Dad: Maybe if you're nice to me I'll tell you about being left in the car for three hours on an excursion.

Mom: I’m concerned you’ve repressed more memories.

Me: Yeah…weren’t you an altar boy?

I Love A Little Cheese

I love when people appreciate my cheesiness.

As I was doing the wash tonight I found myself smiling. I pulled out a pair of socks that say, “Dad’s Sock” and “Dad’s Other Sock.” I bought these for my dad on a trip down to San Diego. The purchase stemmed from this blog. He’s not a sock sharer. Whatever.

Anyway. I found myself smiling because my dad actually wears the socks. I bought them as a joke...but he totally rocks them out when he is exercising. I LOVE THIS!

My cousin Jenny and her “unidentified male friend” came to visit a few weeks ago. Before she came out, she wrote to request “pictures with props.” This truly made me happy! The fact that someone other than my immediate family appreciates the weird pictures LeMasters’ take. I LOVE THIS!

I love that the people I work with indulge my strange need to become a part of literature. They totally rocked out Catcher in the Rye t-shirts. I may have mentioned The Great Gatsby t-shirts and may have been greeted with similar excitement. I LOVE THIS!

I love that I bring cheesiness into the classroom. I forced my students to make videos comparing Brave New World to high school. Following the awkward watching of the films we held “The Kennedy’s.” Get it…like The Oscars. I gave out buttons and trophies. It truly brought joy to my heart as I walked through the halls and senior guys were rocking out their Iron Man buttons. Like I almost cried from joy. I LOVE THIS!

I love that my dad, Mr. white-starch-shirt-guy, put this little hat on and said, “I wasn’t invited to the Frolic Fest last week. Take my picture.” I LOVE THIS!

My point? I love that people appreciate the cheesiness that is Dayna LeMasters. Holla! Thank you.

Worry Wart

Last night I went to see “The Avengers.” So good. As I was leaving with my friend the following conversation took place:

Jordan: I just love Iron Man. He’s so good looking.

Me: No. I would say Captain America is the better option.

Jordan: You’re kidding me right? No.

Me: Yes! Captain America in his little 1940’s clothes and haircut.

Jordan: There we go. Yep. Yeah. I totally see that and you.

Me: I’ll tell you what. The better option would be Captain America with Iron Man snarkiness.

Anyway. Not the point of this blog. It just gave me an excuse to post this picture…

You’re welcome.

Anyway. The point of this blog is to discuss my irrational fears. As I drove down the highway last night, someone threw a cigarette out the window. The cigarette embers flew and I drove over them. I know this is ridiculous, but I always brace myself for my car to blow up or my tire to melt or something just as dramatic to happen. Clearly, this is ridiculous, but I found myself thinking about my top five irrational fears.

5. Finding a reptile in my bed…typically a snake. There is no possibility of this happening. However, some nights, I pull those covers back and brace myself.

4. Being trapped in an elevator with someone who smells bad. Being trapped in an elevator is scary enough, but just imagine if the person with you had halitosis. OH! The horror.

3. My car blowing up from someone’s cigarette embers. See above.

2. My teeth falling out. The number of dreams I’ve had where my teeth have fallen out. Doesn’t matter that I know I have healthy teeth, I’m paranoid for the rest of the day. I find myself checking them periodically.

1. Contracting a disease from a toilet seat. Yes, I put toilet paper down or seat covers. Doesn’t matter. I always leave a public restroom thinking, “Today is the day I contracted a skin eating fungus."

Don’t judge. I know you’re going through your list as we speak.