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. 

The Lorax Was a Hit...Dr. Seuss Was Full of S**t.

Last night we took the kids to see “The Lorax.” It’s that new Dr. Seuss film that is full of lessons for kids to learn: Don’t cut down trees…love nature and animals…and most importantly, don’t feed Marshmallows to strange little bear-like creatures.

As I watched the film I couldn’t help but wonder, “Hmm. What is Nick LeMasters thinking, while he munches his popcorn, sips his soda, and watches this movie?”

You should know that my dad is a staunch Republican. How can he not be? He has the perfect Republican hair. He LOVES Ronald Reagan and Abraham Lincoln. Oh. And it should be stated that he enters “The No Spin Zone” regularly.

Registering as a Republican when he was eighteen-years-old went against Phelan family tradition. You see Nick LeMasters was named for his grandfather Nicholas James Phelan, a big time Democrat. The day Nick came home and outed himself to his mother was a sad day in the LeMasters’ household. The story goes, Joan LeMasters said, “Oh! Nicky! If Grandpa Nick knew you were a Republican, he’d turn over in his grave.”

When the film ended last night, Nick LeMasters picked up his grandson and left the theater. They were deep in conversation and it wasn’t until we dropped the kids off that I learned what that conversation entailed.

Me: Did you enjoy the Dr. Seuss propaganda?

Dad: That movie was so full of PC garbage.

Me: You loved it and so did Zach!

Dad: On the way out I said to Zach, “You know Zach, sometimes you need to cut down trees?”

Me: Stop it! You did not say that.

Dad: I did say that. I didn’t want him walking around with that PC message in his little mind. Anyway, he already knew. He told me, “Of course you do, Gramps. We need fire wood.” Kid after my own heart.

Me: That is horrible. You know that fire creates air pollution, right? That’s why you can’t burn on some days.

Dad: You smell that, Dayna? It’s called bullshit and Dr. Seuss was full of it.

Me: You just rhymed.

Dad: Well, what can I say? The Lorax may be a hit, but Dr. Seuss was full of shit.

Dayna LeMasters & The Big Scare

I always feel like my blog titles sound like the name of a Berenstain Bear book. Remember those? Those rocked. My childhood is full of little lessons from those books. But I digress.

Have you ever had one of those days when you just aren’t clicking with someone? It could be your husband, your boyfriend, a friend, a sibling, or a parent. In my case, it was myself not clicking with my dad…starting at 2am on Friday morning. That’s right, friends. 2am.

Growing up I remember begging my parents to let me sleep with our dogs. The answer was always no. Absolutely not. Never gonna happen. Well, things change when your dog turns 16, can’t see, can’t hear, has issues sleeping, shivers uncontrollably, and wakes up at 1am. That’s right, friends. 1am I was awoken by one of the most ungodly sounds imaginable. It wasn’t a bark, it wasn’t a whine, it sounded like she was being tortured.

Shelby the dog started waking up at 1am sometime over the summer. The doctor told us she probably wakes up and doesn’t know where she is…due to the Alzheimer’s. I’m totally not joking. So, I started sleeping with her from 1am-whenever.

Then I started complaining. Why you ask? Well, apparently my neck is a fantastic pillow. Apparently she snores. Oh. Did I mention the morning she fell off my bed at 3am, then got stuck under the bed and started whimpering? I couldn’t find her. It was like that scene in “Poltergeist,” when the kid gets sucked into the TV.

So, to shut me up, my mom went out and bought Shelby a portacrib. Yes. A portacrib. Like a child. We put her in at bedtime, thinking she would be happy that she was in a warm house and happy to be in her own bed. NOPE! 1am wake up call for Dayna.

I know at this point you’re asking yourself, “Why is Dayna dealing with the dog’s shenanigans?” I ask myself the same question everyday at 1am. I was told, “They don’t hear it.” THE LIES! I know they are sitting in bed and laughing and saying, “Don’t get up, Dayna will handle it.”

Won’t I make a great wife/mother? I’m going to be amazing!

Anyway. After falling down the stairs, Shelby got a sore, it got infected, and she went on antibiotics. The antibiotics made her sick, so she had to go on another medication. We were warned that this medication could cause “bathroom issues.” AND OUT OF MY BED!

This is what happened Friday morning:
I woke up at 1:30 to the sad sounds of whining, but told myself she would fall back asleep…so I covered my head with a pillow.

30 minutes later:
Me (A large shadow is hovering over my bed): AAAAHHHH! AAAHHH! AAAHHH!
Dad: What are doing?
Me: JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Dad: I’m bringing Shelby to you.
Me: I don’t want her. That’s why I didn’t get her. Why do you think there is a pillow over my head?
Dad: I don’t know. Here (drops Shelby on the bed).
Me: No. Seriously. I don’t want her.
The sound of my door closing and him leaving me with Shelby.

Later that day…
Me: Seriously? What was that?
Dad: Yeah. What was that? You are ridiculous. I’ve never heard you swear before.
Me: Are you kidding me? You were hovering over my bed, starring at me! You’re lucky I didn’t hit you.
Dad: You threw a pillow at me!
Me: You’re lucky that’s all I did.
Dad: I think we learned an important lesson today. If you’re ever attacked while sleeping, we’ll definitely know!
Me: Wow. That warms my heart. I’m still pissed off.
Dad: Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Me: Well, with Shelby in my bed, that’s a definite possibility.

*Yes. We are aware that Shelby sounds pathetic. I know you’re thinking it’s her time. We have been assured by the vet that it is not her time…She’s a trooper, so am I.