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.

You're Never Too Old

I love the zoo. It is such a happy and calming place to explore. My family was fortunate enough to be invited to a sneak peak of the new elephant exhibit at The Denver Zoo. It is truly amazing. I am so blown-away by the passion and creativity that has gone into creating this new habitat.

We are regulars at the zoo. We go every Thanksgiving. When family comes we make sure to plan a visit. We try to go as often as possible. This week at work has been exhausting and the moment I walked in the zoo, I felt myself relax and be in the moment. I feel like I grew up at the zoo. I’ve seen it transform year after year.

The elephant exhibit has always been my favorite exhibit. I am in awe of these majestic creatures. They are so smart and so calm and so beautiful. Yes, I realize this is ironic as I fell of a stampeding elephant as a child, but I’ve gotten over it.

Tonight I stood in complete awe as I saw Dolly, a 43-year-old elephant explore her new home. Dolly has been given the gift of space after years of being cooped up in a small, bare exhibit. She’s still adjusting to her newfound freedom.

The following is the ridiculous conversation that took place as I watched Miss Dolly cross a bridge for only the third time. I felt like a proud mother. Pathetic. I know. Deal with it.

Dad: Are you crying? Why are you crying?

Me: I don’t know. I just feel so proud of her.

Dad: You’re proud of an elephant?

Me: Yes. She’s 43, has blisters on her feet, is 3,000 pounds, and is making an effort. How can this not have an effect on you?

Dad: It’s great. It’s wonderful. I’m not going to cry.

Me: Whatever. I think it’s amazing. She’s learning new tricks. I think this proves you’re never too old to learn. I think this proves you’re never too old to change. It’s amazing!

Dad: Wow! That was profound. You went deep there.

Me: I know! Ridiculous. What is happening to me? I’m very emotional.

Dad: Oh, so just a regular day then?

Me: Nice. Really hilarious.

Note: Please calm yourself Robert and Jenny. I know you’re thinking that an elephant took your blog spot. But seriously, elephant trunks cousin.

 Look at her face. It has a smile on it! She's thinking, "I DID IT!"

My Life...How Ironical

i·ro·ny [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-] noun 1. a technique of indicating, as through character or plot development, an intention or attitude opposite to that which is actually or ostensibly stated.

Holden Caulfield once said, “It was very ironical. It really was.” Now, I don’t know that ironical is actually a term, but I do know exactly what he’s talking about. Goodness. Holden Caulfield…that kid just kills me.

Anyway. I’m about to finish my first year of teaching. Let’s be honest, there aren’t enough blogs in the world that can completely capture this year. You’ll have to wait for my first book, The Life and Times of LeMaster-Blaster.

As I reflect on my time as an English teacher, I often think to myself, “my life is so ironic.” If you saw me in high school, you would have thought, “There’s Dayna LeMasters. I bet she studies a lot.”

I wasn’t into pep rallies.

I didn’t like football games.

I had no desire to go to prom.

I literally would have preferred to rip my hair out rather than dress up for spirit week.

Ugh…yearbooks. Gag me with a spoon.

Ugh…graduation. So many things I would have rather done that day.

And so. You will agree that my life is totally ironical.

I sit through hour -long pep assemblies, where I cheer and I scream like a high school senior. I would like to mention that the music has not changed since 2005.

I go to the football games and make sure to rock out my Kennedy High School T-shirt on game days.

I actually went to prom. Like I went. Like I had to stand there and watch kids get their groove on. I would like to mention that the music has not changed since 2005. I would also like to mention that I do not regret not going to my prom.

Yes I do get my spirit week on. Crazy Sock Day rocked my world. I totally looked like Meryl Streep from “Out of Africa” during Safari Day. Neon Day? Forget about it. I looked like a prisoner in my bright orange jacket, but I loved it!

That’s right. I’ve been asked to sign yearbooks. I can officially say that entries have not changed since 2005. I can also say that I find myself still at a loss for words…I did refrain from writing “Having a kick ass summer.” Aren’t you proud?

And yes. I will be sitting through graduation. Graduation. I will wear the black robe. I will pat kids on the back. I will be thinking, “When will this be over?” I will be thinking, “Oh. My. Gosh. They are still playing Garth Brooks’ The River and Green Day’s Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).” God help me.

I have and will love every minute of it. Why? Because I get to go to work everyday and have fun. I get to see kids learn. I get to talk about books. I get to dress up like Holden Caulfield and talk about phonies. I get to teach!

Note: Yes. I’m aware that I may appear to be Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus.