Clareified

I don’t know if it is that I liked the movie Heathers so much…though I did. But at some point in law school I decided I wanted to be friends with all the Dawns. Luckily, the other Dawns were totally kick ass and awesome, so I gotta say genius move on my part becoming friends with them.

With pearatty in town, the three of us once again get to do the whole “Hi, we’re the Dawns,” which pearatty’s friend Abrigella called “kinda creepy actually.” And which lead a jealous KJ and Mary to call themselves “Dawn with a K and Dawn with an M.” “What kind of Dawn are you, Alceste,” KJ asked Alceste over dinner. I declared him to be T. Dawn Alceste. (Funny story, the summer I found out that Alceste’s first name was really Timothy, I spend seven weeks calling him Timothy until he punched me in the head. Hmm…now that I think on it, not so funny. Ouch. Stupid Jerkface Timothy. ) Now that those horrible, halcyon bygone days of writer’s strikes are over, it was time to get the TV watching crew together.
This week’s feature was the Battlestar Galactica premiere and somehow Alceste Jedi mind tricked us into coming out to Jersey City. I then Jedi mind tricked Mary into passing up a poker game to come with! A POKER GAME. MARY. Dude, if I can do that, I can do anything! Turns out she is a bit of a purest, and when she saw KJ reading a synopsis of Season Two on his iphone in the backseat and pearatty said ‘oh, I’ve only seen the first season,’ she was all ‘get out of the car.’ And then I got the number of Cylon models wrong and she smacked me.
It was the first time that Mary and KJ met pearatty. It’s always stressful for me when I’m crossing the streams, as the Gay Train so cleverly refers to mixing of his different worlds.
In a way, when you introduce people in one part of your life to those in the other parts, you get to see everyone again through fresh eyes. Sometimes this results in the cringe-inducing, oh my God…yeah, I totally love that guy, but wow is he an asshole or the dear lord, she’s my girl, but man, she does not stop with the questions. But when it goes well, it’s KJ saying “Bye Dawn. It was nice to meet you pearatty,” and me saying “But it was nicer meeting me, right?” And KJ saying “I believe ‘Bye Dawn. It was nice to meet you pearatty, speaks for itself.” And pearatty giggling her head off and saying “Dawn you have such funny friends.” And me saying “KJ is so banned.”
Ah, but I get ahead of myself, as I so often do.
Since we were in the JC, we met for dinner at the diner with the most awesome pancakes in the entire world. I actually almost ended up ordering a gorgonzola rib eye steak because it looked so good.
“Wow, I didn’t know they sold anything other than pancakes!”
“Yeah, because you never go pass the first page,” Dawn 2 replied.
I flipped back to the first page which listed 99 different types of pancakes.
“Yeah…because there’s pancakes on the first page! What was I thinking? I’m so getting pancakes!”
And I did.
Bacini Mary, of course, got bacon, pearatty and KJ – remaining skeptical about exactly how awesome these pancakes could be – decided to get pancakes and four other non pancakes meals. Fools. Oh, and apparently KJ didn’t know that you were supposed to put syrup on pancakes. Each one, teach one.
We had a stirring conversation about whether Miss Piggy was, in fact, a slut (undoubtedly) and the appropriateness of interspecies dating (pearatty was anti, while Alceste felt that if it was safe and consensual, all was fair game, leading Dawn 2 to wonder if this was something she should worry about. (Yet one more reason to avoid pets in the home. – Ed.))
KJ and I got into a heated staring contest, where I took him down in a best of three contest that left him, literally, crying in his soup. Lightweight.
There were seven of us…or six, I’m not much for the counting, so we split up into two cars. As I pulled out of my spot, Alceste was backing out of his spot and we were on a collision course. I thought about swerving to avoid the impact, but then decided that it would be better to have Alceste support me and my chronic back pain and whiplash for the next twenty years. Cha-ching.
Mary agreed that this was the best course of action. “We’d be at poker tables with neck braces on saying ‘Screw it, I call…it’s Alceste’s money!”
Suing your friends is funny.
I ended up parking my car down some dark alley street on the wrong side of the train tracks and Alceste pretty much convinced me that my car was either going to get jacked or jacked up by the end of the night.
We still had some time to kill before BSG, so we played Rock Band. Turns out that the only two black people with no rhythm were in the Alceste/Dawn 2 apartment last night. It might have been three, KJ whispered to me that he thought pearatty was black. I laughed and said “ahh, you haven’t known me long enough to know that I don’t have any black friends.”

Though I am so getting some this year! I put in my order a couple of months ago and they should be arriving any day now.
I had watched the last three seasons of BSG on a laptop computer screen, so seeing it on Alceste’s 50 inch plasma was a whole new world, of kick ass graphics and explosions. I was annoyed at the “everybody is a Cylon” twist, but I still love it. Damn them and their “to be continued” ending. We hung out chatting and watching the end of Lord of the Rings (um…is it me or is that the gayest movie of all time…like way gayer than Philadelphia or Chuck&Larry. Pearatty said she saw a “top ten reason people like the Lord of the Rings trilogy” and reason number five was “they hate women and fantasize about a world of only men.” Um…not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
As we left the apartment, I turned to KJ and said ‘remember that time we couldn’t find the elevator out of here and ended up going through some fire door and everyone thought we were breaking in…or out?”
“You should stop skulking about in ski masks then,” Mary said.
“Well, yes, and carrying out stereo equipment that doesn’t belong to me.”
While we waited for the elevator, KJ tapped the map with the ‘you are here’ notation that was posted at the elevator bank. He started to look around.
“Dawn! How do they know? How do they know where we areee?”
“KJ, you’re a freak.”
(This is also the boy that despite being to my apartment a gazillion times manages to spend the greater part of an hour trying to find the elevator button for my floor. ‘People always stare at me searching for the 12…so I like pretend that I’m blind and am reading the Braille lettering to buy me time.’)
Thankfully, my car was still there, we stopped for a tank full of that cheap cheap Jersey gas, though why they don’t take MasterCard…baffles me…we exited the Holland Tunnel on the bright side of life and thanked our lucky stars to have made it back to NY.
“You never know, man, one day you could go to Jersey and just never be able to get back.”
“Yeah, look at Alceste and Dawn 2.”
“Yeah.”
We paused in a somber moment of silence for our fallen comrades.
May God have mercy on their souls.

This entry was posted by Dawn Summers on Saturday, April 5th, 2008 at 2:27 am and is filed under Personal, Television. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.