White Bread Addict

I think it’s pretty clear who does the grocery shopping in this household…her name is Dayna. I’m not complaining, I love to grocery shop. That is until I come home and have these conversations...

Dad: I see you didn’t buy white bread.

Me: Right. That’s not good for you. It turns into sugar. I bought some wheat bread, though.

Dad: Right. I’m sick of this wheat bread crap. I want white bread.

Me: Wooh. Wooh. Wooh. Why do you need white bread? What is white bread going to accomplish that wheat can’t?

Dad: Because, Dayna, sometimes at night I like to peanut butter bread. It is gross on wheat. I want white!

Me: Fine. Wow. Ridiculous. What else can I pick up for you? Mac & Cheese? Twinkies? How about some bologna?

Dad: All delicious. Actually, I would like some bagels…white, not wheat.

I hate to admit it, but I did have a piece of peanut butter bread on white. It was kind of, sort of amazing.

The Dust Jacket Dispute

There are two types of people in this world: people who keep the dust jackets on books and people who discard them. I am the former, my mom is the latter.

This difference can bring about some tension. I remember walking in on her throwing away my dad’s dust jackets years ago. That was the first time the conversation came up. She was adamant that they were a waste and I was adamant that they were essential to a book’s make-up.

About a year ago, she tossed the cover of a children’s book into the fire. My brother Ryan overreacted and pulled it out. I’m still not sure what was going through his mind, pulling out a flaming paper, but he did it. He ended up throwing it on my mom and her arm hair got scorched off. I personally thought it was KARMA. You don’t throw away book covers.

The great debate continues. Our house is currently in a state of disarray as we are remodeling. During the course of the remodel it was decided that new carpet should be installed in 2 out of 4 bedrooms. I think we all know what that means…packing. That’s right. I am currently in the middle of packing up my small library of books and transporting them to a separate room. I now understand why people are buying electronically. This is how I was greeted when I arrived home from the gym:

Mom (opens the front door abruptly): HI! Dad thinks you’re going to be mad at me.

Me: Ugh. Oh. What did you do?

Mom: I had a fun idea! So you know how you have A LOT of books? You know how you like to see people’s books out when you go to their homes?

Me: No. No. No. I see where this is going. Where did you move my books?

Mom: I put them on the shelves in the living room. It’s so cute.

Me: No. No. No. YOU TOOK THE COVERS OFF!

Mom: Right. I don’t like them. I have them all upstairs. You can have them back when you leave.

Me: Where am I supposed to put 20 book covers? No. We’re moving them back. Let’s go.

Me: Wow. Selfish.

Me: Are you kidding me? YOU TOOK THE COVERS OFF!

Dad: See. I told you not to touch them. Didn’t I say that she wasn’t going to handle this well? Should have listened.

I know you’re impressed by my reading choices. In my defense 1776, East of Eden, Pride & Prejudice, and the classic Charlotte’s Web were in the pile I’m holding…The camera just didn’t capture those.

Respect "The Notebook" Nick LeMasters. Respect "The Notebook."

Years ago my mom had gum surgery. I think we all know what that means! Drugs. Which of course means, a whole new personality. Which of course means, absolute entertainment for me. My mom gets a little excited when she’s on medication, as apposed to my dad who get belligerent (another story for another time…it’s a doozy).

Due to the surgery she was expected to sit on the couch for two days. My mom doesn’t sit on the couch for 2 minutes. She likes to be busy. So I took it upon myself to be her entertainment. I came complete with movies…including The Notebook.

Oh. The Notebook. Who doesn’t love that movie? Ryan Gosling writes Rachel McAdams 365 letters. He builds her a dream home, complete with art studio. He takes her out on a canoe to feed birds. He reads to her everyday when she has Alzheimer’s. It’s just so amazing.

Well. My mom loved it. After we watched it she couldn’t stop talking about how good it was. Well, that was the drugs talking. The next day she couldn’t remember it. So, now when I mention it or she sees it on TV she’ll jokingly say, “I love this movie!”

The Following is a lovely conversation that took place between my dad, my mom, and myself. Enjoy!

Dad: Ah. The Notebook is on. My favorite.

Me: Have you seen it? Don’t make remarks until you’ve seen it. I’ve heard men love this movie.

Dad: Right. Wow. They got good actors for a made for TV movie.

Me: Oh. My. Gosh. This is not a made for TV movie! Are you kidding me? It was in theaters. It was a book. I have the DVD!

Dad: Wow. You own this? That says a lot about you. Look at this guy. Shave your face, you slob.

Mom: THE NOTEBOOK! I LOVE THIS MOVIE! Is this the part where he’s mean to her?

Me: What are you talking about? He’s not mean to her. You need to watch this again.

Mom: Oh. I was thinking about that movie with the girl that goes home and her husband is mean to her. You know the one with that cute actress I like.

Me: Sweet Home Alabama? That is nothing like this movie.

Mom: YES!

Dad: Oh, wait. I’ve seen this scene. They play this in the movie theater all the time! This is where he talks to her about dog vomit.

Mom: I don’t remember that. I don’t think that’s in the movie.

Me: Okay. Change the channel. You have officially ruined this movie for me.

I would just like to add that I think my dad has secretly watched The Notebook and LOVES IT. If he doesn’t, why does he always click on this movie when it’s on TV? Just something to think about…Respect The Notebook, Nick LeMasters. Respect The Notebook.

Are You There Fall? It's Me, Dayna.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this at least 1,200 times in the past 3 months, but I have a bad relationship with summer. I hate temperatures that reach over 90. I hate that my hair doesn’t curl correctly. I hate the clothes. I hate that when I walk outside, it doesn’t matter if I have deodorant on; I immediately start to sweat at inhuman rates.

Where are you fall? I love you fall. I love everything about you! And so below are the top reasons that fall needs to hurry up and find me:

1. Honeycrisp Apples…Need I say more?
2. Hats, scarves, gloves, jackets…Should I go on?
3. Everything pumpkin…pie, scones, cheesecake, muffins…Should I go on?
4. Halloween. Especially this year, as we will be attending Boo at the Zoo.
5. The colors…Everyone should experience the Colorado colors.

Seriously, though, the main reason I’m looking forward to fall is the fact that I won’t feel like a woman going through menopause…or as my mom would say, “trending warm.”

Inspector Gadget, Nick LeMasters Style

It is a little known fact that my dad’s degree is in criminal justice. That’s right. He started out in life thinking he would be a police officer. Unfortunately, as the story goes, he didn’t make it as a police officer because he was too nice. He approached dealing with criminals like a business meeting. It became apparent, rather quickly, that he was destined for something else.

However he has never forgotten those skills he acquired…mainly his need to know about any and all things that appear odd or out of the ordinary to him. Case in point.

Exhibit A:
Dad: Dayna, there is a box addressed to you on the counter. Its been sitting there for exactly one day.

Me: I know. I’m not that excited about what’s in it, so I haven’t opened it.

Dad: I don’t think you understand. That box is like Christmas morning to me. I need to know what is inside it.

Me: Well, it’s going to disappoint you. It’s a book about teaching kids to read.

Dad: That is boring. Open the box!

Exhibit B:
Dad: I found this in the garbage can.

Mom: I know. I threw it away. Why are you going through the trash?

Dad: I wasn’t going through it! This was on top. I thought it seemed suspicious.

Mom: Why would you take it out? It was in the garbage.

Dad: It’s my police training. I see something strange and I check it out.

It should be noted that no one seems to recall what the object in the trash was. I will therefore assume that it was either a Q-Tip or gum wrapper.

The Inappropriate Laugher

The above photo was snapped a few years ago when we tagged along on one my dad’s work trips to Canada. It was October and rained everyday. This led my mom to scream, “YEAH CANADA! WOOHOO!” every time we took a picture. This shot was taken the first time she did it and I couldn’t hold back the laughter. I get the giggles every time I look at those pictures.

I have the type of face that can reveal every emotion I’m feeling. It’s an open book. When I’m annoyed or upset or disgusted or in pain or delighted, you can tell. This means I can’t hide anything. It also means that my face and body constantly betray me…typically when I laugh at completely inappropriate times.

I am an awkward laugher. I laugh when people get hurt. I laugh at serious situations. I laugh when it’s okay to laugh, but people tend to notice when you laugh at the wrong time. I can’t seem to help myself. It doesn’t matter what I do. This is not a trait I’m proud of, as you will see below.

As a new teacher, you learn a lot about your personality. I learned that even when students are being completely inappropriate and I feel annoyed, I also feel a laugh close to breaking free. I once walked over to a group of students who were up to no good in my class, trying to be tough and tell them to get to work. Of course when I did that, one looked at me and said, “Miss. You crack me up. I know there’s a little smile trying to break free right now.” That is of course when the smile and laugh did come out and I realized that this was going to be a problem.

Not too long after this incident, I sat in a class of my own, as a student. My professor went to sit on his chair and completely fell off. Every one in the class was voicing their concern, “Are you okay? What happened?” I broke down in the back of the room in hysterics. I shook with laughter. Of course in the back of my mind I was thinking I hope he’s okay, but the other part of my brain thought it was hilarious. My friend turned to me and said, “Don’t laugh.” It made it worse. I actually said, “Don’t look at me! It makes it worse!” I bit my finger, but nothing helped. Five minutes after the incident, you could still find me breaking into little fits.

And this brings me to the worst place to laugh. Church. Thank goodness I didn’t go to Catholic school. I can’t imagine the kind of scars I would have. Last Sunday I was sitting in church when a gentleman got up to speak. He literally gave a synopsis of “The Ten Commandments,” the movie. When he first started my face probably looked confused. Five minutes into the reenactment, I was shaking with laughter. Actually shaking. I couldn’t think what to do! I’m sure people were looking at me and thinking I was terrible, but I couldn’t help it. It was horrible.

Anyway. Next time you see me, it will probably be when I’m laughing at someone falling. Just don’t look me in the eye and it will pass…until I recall it at the gym and break into silent giggles again.

Yours truly,
The Inappropriate Laugher

Gym Strangeness

I go to the gym for three reasons. One: To keep in shape. Two: One hour to myself. Three: The people watching. It is a place where I can listen to my Glee soundtrack without judgment. It is a place where I can pretend to be watching TV, but really be listening to the woman next to me converse on a cell phone…while running.

There are things about the gym that I don’t enjoy. I hate when there are 20 empty treadmills and a person chooses the one right next to me. Personally, I think the gym is like a movie theater…LEAVE A SEAT IN BETWEEN…unless there are no options. I’ve heard people have the same issues with public restrooms. I try not to use disease infested public restrooms, but I’m sure I would concur. I don’t like when middle-aged men talk to me. For example, the man that greeted me with, “Go get em’ tiger.” WHAT WAS THAT? I had my headphones on. Isn’t that the international sign for don’t speak to me? Creepy.

Anyway. I thought I would share the top 5 strangest things I’ve seen recently.

5. Coke being sold in the vendi machine. Aren’t we all here in an effort to get away from sugary beverages?

4. A woman in the hot tube reading Harry Potter. I can’t judge her too harshly. I’d bring a book so I didn’t have to chat with people in there, too.

3. Man. Parking Lot. Car. Sleeping. Legs out the window. I think, perhaps he misunderstood the purpose of the gym.

2. A girl sitting on a pile of weights reading US Weekly. I get it. Those subscriptions are expensive.

1. The guy that chose the treadmill right next to me running backwards at 8 mph. Sir, I’m going to have to insist that you choose a different treadmill next time. It will be just my luck that you fly off and hit the stair master behind you. I don’t know that I want to get involved in that sure to be drama.

The above picture is of my brother Ryan. I searched and searched for a picture of me in workout gear…thankfully I couldn’t find one. Nice sweatband. Nice sweatband.