Windtalker

The other day I had a student come up to me and say: “I forgot to do that thing. Can I bring it another time?” It took me a moment to register what he was talking about, mostly because he could have been referring to three separate things. I quickly replied, “If you’re talking about your grade report, than yes.”

The teacher I worked with overheard the conversation and said, “Wow. You’re a windtalker.” I informed her that my skills came from years of decoding conversations with my mom. The conversation below happened while watching the Golden Globes on Sunday.

Mom: Isn’t that that guy?
Me: What guy?
Mom: You know! The one everybody likes…with the hair.
Me: OMG! Robert Pattinson?
Mom: YES! That’s him!
Me: No. That is Andrew Garfield from The Social Network.
Mom: Are you sure? He’s British and has a lot of hair. We just saw him in that trailer about elephants.
Me: We did see a trailer for Water for Elephants. Wrong guy. This guy is the new Spiderman.
Mom: Well, they’re the same.
Me: Wow.

People are Crazy...

I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m antisocial. I think that about 90% of people are just crazy. I of course am in the 10% that is normal. My sister-in-law would tell you this is the Taurus in me, “Dayna, Taurans prefer to be alone, but they can be social when they want to be.” It’s not that I want to be alone; it’s just that people easily annoy me.

I wouldn’t have been a regular at Cheers. I don’t want to go where everybody knows my name. I get annoyed when the barista at Starbucks greets me with “Hi Miss Dayna.” I find a new Starbucks. It creeps me out when I go to boutiques and they say, “Oh, you’re back!” or “Wow! You’re in here without your mom. This is totally weird.” I avoid the store for at least a month. And so…It would seem that I need to find a new Barnes & Noble after the encounter I had last week.

This semester I have been given the lovely task of reading 20 young adult novels. That’s right, 20. If the first three I’ve read are any indicator of what I’m in for, this means a semester of impossible romances. Girl falls for wolf, boy falls for dragon, and pregnant teen falls for drug dealer. After researching popular young adult novels, I headed to Barnes & Noble. The following encounter then happened:

While my 23-year-old self was browsing through the YA section, a B&N associate came over and took my pile of books out of my hand. DIDN’T ASK! Just reached out and took my pile.

Creepy Salesperson: This book is amazing! After you read it you’re going to think “Jacob Black who?”

I was sort of taken-aback. I mean the assumptions she made here! First, that I had even read Twilight. Second, anyone who knows me knows I’m totally on Team Edward, which means I was already thinking “Jacob Black who?”

Creepy Salesperson: This book. I mean wow! The girl is her own hero. She doesn’t need a man to save her. WOW!

I didn’t care for this comment either. If Disney has taught me anything, it’s that I do need a man to save me.

Creepy Salesperson: Now this one. This is a REAL science fiction book. I just can’t even talk about it. It’s just that good.

I remember the seven steps of a sale and I’m pretty sure she missed all seven with that statement.

Creepy Salesperson: (Holding the book to her heart) Now this is a real young adult novel. I read it to my daughter when she was in kindergarten. Oh. Sometimes I just read a chapter of it. I’ve read the whole thing 14 times. This girls falls in love by just touching a boy’s hand (THIS IS WHEN SHE REACHED OUT AND TOUCHED MY HAND. THAT’S RIGHT! SHE TOUCHED ME)

And so…I politely took my books back. The whole time thinking, “Give me my damn books and why are you reading YA books to your 5-year-old?" I will now be finding a new Barnes & Noble or ordering my books on Amazon for the foreseeable future.

Christmas Traditions

My mom and dad have always valued the importance of tradition. Our family Christmas has had the same traditions for as long as I can remember. One tradition is going to the movies and eating Chinese food on Christmas Eve.

A few years ago, I spent Christmas with my parents alone…and no offense to my brothers, but it was one of my favorite holidays. It was the first time in my life that I committed a crime. The fact that I did it with my parents makes it all the more enjoyable.

It was the year Charlotte’s Web was released and my mom had some big fantasy about seeing it. So, my dad and I decided to play along and see the movie with her. So, after the movie was finished, we decided it was too early to go home. My dad had this to say, “I should probably see Happy Feet. It starts in 5 minutes. Lets go.” And so for the first time in my life, I snuck in to a movie without paying. The thrill was overwhelming...I know I'm pretty tough.

I think back to that memory often and it came to mind recently because I’m spending Christmas Eve with my parents alone, once again. The following conversation happened tonight:

Dad: No I am not going to see How Do You Know. I’m sick of Reese Witherspoon and Jack Nicholson.
Me: How can you be sick of Reese Witherspoon? She hasn’t made a movie in 2 years. And when was the last time you saw a Jack Nicholson movie?
Dad: I saw that one with him and that actress I can’t stand…Diane Keaton.
Me: Something’s Gotta Give? You never saw that!
Dad: Fine. I didn’t see it, but I saw the preview and didn’t like it.
Me: Well, then how can you say you’re sick of Jack Nicholson?
Dad: I saw him in that movie where he had OCD and that was enough.
Me: No. Doesn’t count. That was 10 years ago.
Dad: Fine. One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Easy Rider. A Few Good Men. Doesn’t matter, still not seeing How Do You Know.
Me: Wow! Well, I’m not going to see The Fighter. Christian Bale looks freakish in that and I can’t take it.

Mom: How about Narnia?
Me: Okay. I’ll go see The Fighter.

The King of the Jungle

I love the zoo. I love everything about it. I always look forward to my families’ annual Thanksgiving Day visit. This year was even better, because of the excessive amounts of baby animals to look at. That was until my run-in with a “zoo expert.”

During our leisurely stroll through the zoo, we came upon the tiger exhibit. What drew my attention? The 4 new tiger babies running around, biting each other, licking each other. I loved it…until the “zoo expert” started talking.

Zoo Expert: They were born in June.
Me: Oh. Were they born here?
Zoo Expert: Of course they were.
Me: So, where is the father?
Zoo Expert: Well, remember tigers don’t live together in harmony.
Me: Oh, I didn’t know that.
At this point I started thinking: “remember?” I studied Communications/PR/English. How would I possibly know this?

Zoo Expert: What is the only social cat in the wild?
At this point my mom walked away…leaving me!
Me: Um. I don’t know. Um. Huh.
Zoo Expert: The Lion (with a look of complete disappointment)
At this point I started thinking: “Wow brain. You have failed me. How could you not remember the Lion King? Nice going brain.”

I then politely thanked her for her time. Shoulders slouching, I trekked back to my family, feeling a little bit dumb. Guess I’ll be going to see African Cats to plan for next years Thanksgiving trivia at the zoo.

Christmas Bonding...

I think it goes without saying that my dad is my number one source of entertainment. He never lets me down with his pop culture references, his incorrect pop culture references, and stories from his childhood. While helping to decorate for Christmas, he did not let me down (by helping, I mean watching).

Biggest Loser:
Dad: Wow. That guys name is Frado, like a Hobbit.
Me: Hobbit?
Dad: Yeah. You know. Short people. Harry feet.
Me: I know. I also know that you are talking about Frodo, not Frado.

Jersey Shore:
Me: I’ve always wanted to see that show Jersey Boys.
Dad: That one with Snookie? That’s total trash, Dayna.
Me: Jersey Boys…Not Jersey Shore.

Forget You:
Me: I LOVE THIS SONG! “I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love and I’m like, forget you!”
Dad: No, Dayna. I saw him singing on the Colbert Report. It goes, “I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love and I’m like, Fox News!”

Last Christmas:
Me: “Last Christmas I gave you my heart, the very next day you gave it away!”
Dad: No, Dayna. It goes, “Last Christmas I gave you my heart, the very next day you tore it apart.” Geez!

Kenny Rogers:
Dad: WOW! You have Kenny Rogers on your iPod. This is classic. Do you even know who he is?
Me: Of course I do. That’s why I have his music.
Dad: Oh, you probably know him with his new face.

Long Legged Guitar Pickin' Man:
Dad: Wow. This song is a little insulting to women. “You big mouth woman.”
Me: I LOVE IT!
Dad: Don’t ever be with a guy who talks to you like that.

I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch):
Me: Let me tell you something. I’m not going to the George Strait concert with you if you keep dancing around like that and clapping your hands. It’s embarrassing!
Dad: Well, then I guess we’re not going to the concert.
Me: I’m just joking. You do your thang.

The Truth Shall Set You Free

The other night my nephew put a hat on, a hunting hat to be exact. You know the ones…they have earflaps. The one Holden Caulfield wears in The Catcher in the Rye. The following conversation then took place:

Zach: Nana! Do I look like a dog?
Mom: If you think you look like a dog.

Later…

Mom: Did you hear Zach ask if he looked like a dog? I wouldn’t have answered that for a thousand dollars. Can you just imagine 10 years from now? “Nana, remember when you said I looked like a dog?”
Me: Yeah. I noticed you answered, “If you think you do.” Does that mean no?
Mom: Of course it does. What was I supposed to say?
Me: Well, I’m just thinking back over a few times when I asked if you liked something and you answered, “If you like it.” Or times when I asked if I looked good and you answered, “If you think you do.” Now I feel deceived.
Mom: THIS IS EXACTLY THE CONVERSATION I WAS TRYING TO AVOID!

Thanksgiving Aroma

It’s that wonderful time of year when the house is full of pleasant scents. Turkeys, pies, potatoes, bread, the list is never ending. Unfortunately, my house is full of a different sort of odor. This memorable conversation took place while cooking up a storm this afternoon.

Mom: Knock, Knock. Nick, you need to open a window and spray. That smell is wafting through the house.

Five minutes later…

Dad: Excuse me! I didn’t appreciate your unfounded accusations that I’m to blame for the smell in this house. If you want to blame someone, you point the finger at yourself and your boiled eggs.

Me: OMG! That is awful, mom. You made it sound like he was ill or something.

Mom: Well, excuse me! You’re the one who wanted Deviled Eggs tomorrow. I blame you.