Clareified

Where does the good go

Archive for July, 2011

I hope Pat Buchanan is outraged!

Wednesday, July 27th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Student named co-valedictorian because he’s white.

via Blacking it up

Eh, Birthday

Tuesday, July 26th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Oh. My. GAWD!

I cannot begin to tell you how awesome my Toronto birthday was! Well, I can and I probably will…it’s just an expression…sheesh, you people are so literal!

Okay, so long time readers know the story of how @astinto promised me a caramel cake back in aught 9. And by “@astinto promised” I mean @realdawnsummers saw Astin tweeting about baking and said “ooh, you know how to bake things? Bake me a caramel cake!” #truestory

So last year he sent me 50 caramel cakes.

I laughed and laughed and was extremely amused. HOWEVER, I wasn’t supposed to be baking my own damn cake! THE HELL! So I renewed my reasonable demands for caramel cake. Astin continued to refuse to bake my caramel cake, so his friend M, who is a New Yorker with Stockholm syndrome living in Toronto, said that she would assume his caramel cake debt. Done and done! Woo hoo! Caramel cake for Dawn! Except, she was all “but you have to come to Toronto to get it.” AWWW MAAAAAN. Stupid fine print.

THEN… because Astin NEVER learns, he was all tweeting about making ice cream the other day…

“Wait. What? You *make* ice cream?! Make ME ICE CREAM!” And so it was that Astin promised to make me chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

When 2011 birthday season began, one former person of the year was conspicuously absent from all birthday 2011 festivities.

THE HELL? #RUDE

Obviously, I assumed this was some terrible, terrible mistake, and decided to go to Buffalo and demand that my birthday be celebrated properly. What? That’s totally reasonable and not at all insane or self-centered. So, of course, since I was going to be in Buffalo — which is practically Canadia — I sent Astin the following note:

“So, how would you feel about a guest from Brooklyn?!”

To which he replied: “Depends. Who is the guest?”

O_O

“Mila Kunis.”

He was very excited!

Toronto Birthday was born!

And then I wrote the “Toronto Birthday” song which is pretty much just repeating the phrase “Toronto Birthday” over and over again to the tune of La Cucaracha. I’m submitting it to the Grammy’s.

There are three other facts that you need to know about Toronto birthday. 1. Astin is a witch. I can’t remember how I found this out, but he is. His weak “denial” consists of “male witches are warlocks! WARLOCKS!” But I do not believe in discriminatory vocabulary, so witch it is. 2. VinNay and Astin’s friend, Chinese Pete (who is neither Chinese nor named Pete) had “birthdays” last week. However, you are all aware of my July birthday policy: Me, Sidney and Smokey’s MIL. Sasat to VinNay and Chinese Pete. 3. I am a huge New York Rangers fan! That’s hockey. 1

As Toronto Birthday approacheth, I found out that the hockey hall of fame was… IN TORONTO!! This led to my request that we go to the hockey hall of fame. Hmm…request should probably be in quotes. “There will be caramel cake, cookie dough ice cream and hockey hall of fame! See you in a week!” I am so delightful!

In figuring out when Toronto birthday would be, I suggested we should make it Sunday, since Friday night would be my birthday dinner in Buffalo. VinNay assured me that it wouldn’t be an issue and we should go on Saturday. Cool, after all, on my birthday last year I had more wine than guests at a Jesus attended wedding party and I was totally up bright and early to lead my out-of-town guests around Brooklyn.

Can you already tell what’s going to happen? Can you? Good, because I believe I said I would never again mention trying to wake @VinNay up for three hours on Saturday morning as the daylight hours in Toronto Birthday slipped away.

I think I also agreed not to recount how a blood vessel in my head exploded all over Prince Eli’s cream colored interior when the aforementioned @VinNay and I were sitting in the car line at the Canadian border for 30 minutes and he goes “You should have been more aggressive in waking me.”

O_o

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why waiting periods for handguns are a very good idea.

Luckily, traffic wasn’t too terrible after we cleared immigration. We got to Astin’s by 3:30 and met up with him, M and Chinese Pete. We took the Toronto subway to the hockey hall of fame. I saw all these people walking around with Winnepeg Jets shirts and Bruins gear and I was glad I had thrown my Lunqvist jersey in my bag, at the last minute, before I left Brooklyn. I slipped it on as we entered the building.


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“Where are you from,” the ticket taker asked.

Um.

“New York! See my Rangers jersey?!”

The first glass display contained a stupid Crosby jersey, so I booed. I then demanded to see Rangers stuff!

“Hey, look, here’s something about the Rangers,” Astin says, pointing to a plaque about some guy who scored the fastest three goals in history…against the Rangers.

“FUUUUCCKKKKK YYYYOOOOOUUUUU.”

We went through the whole place and then ended up at the games section of the HHOF. I suited up and headed in goal against the Messier/Gretsky simulation.


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The first shot from Messier got by me…I can’t deny a fellow Ranger…but I totally gloved the Gretsky slapshot! Oh…wait…he’s a Ranger too, huh? Well…he doesn’t count…that’s like saying Favre was a Jet. bahahahahahahaha

Then VinNay redeemed America’s hockey honor by crushing Astin in bubble hockey 5-0 and beating Chinese Pete in overtime 3-2. Chinese Pete tried to tilt me by mocking “The Miracle,” in the simulation “game calling” booth. “Oh, the Americans win…I suspect they’ll mention this win once or twice in the next 30 years.”

“FUUUUUCCKKKK YYYYYYOOOUUUUUU”!

Damn non believing in miracles, communists.

Finally, we went up to the vault floor with the Stanley cup and all the trophies and plaques commemorating the hall of famers.

It was SOOO COOL!

M declared that she wants a vault door as her front door for her next house. I tried to get everyone to take a group shot around the Stanley cup, but they reacted like F-train when he sees a fifty dollar bill…hmm…that reference might be somewhat obscure…they reacted like a superstitious person who breaks a mirror! There!

“Nooo! I’m not touching the cup until we win it!”

Weirdos:


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“Ha! You jinxed your team! You jinxed your team! I’m SOOO happy,” VinNay said, tears running down his face, “now you’ll never win the Stanley cup!”

“Um…dude, the Rangers have already won the Stanley Cup.” #BuffaloSabresfanproblems

I recounted this exchange to my friend Andy, and he assured me “Nah, you didn’t do anything. The Rangers are already jinxed.”

Heeeeey….waaiiittt a mminnnuuttteee!

“FUUUUCCKKKKK YYYYOOOOOUUUUU.”

I just need to get a tattoo of that so I don’t have to say it all the time! (The next day, I went to a Buffalo Bisons game (they are the Mets’ farm team) and “we” (thanks for the hat, VinNay!) were playing the Red Sox farm team. There were so many Red Sox fans there AND Yankees fans, that by the seventh inning, and after I found the wine bar, I was threatening so many people with my patented “Listen…LISTEN… I WILL FIGHT YOU!” That Scott decided to record me saying it, so he could just play it back when I signaled with my finger. It was VERY useful!)

Anyway, after the HHOF, we went to dinner. VinNay very kindly changed his vote to Cuban food, so I didn’t have to starve and cry at some sushi restaurant. The Cuban place was AMAZING! Though, when I tried to order a chicken quesadilla, Astin gave me this face: O_o and said “No.”

And that was that. #rude

It started to pour and all the white people were like “hey, let’s walk home.” And I was all “No, white people. Black women have hair issues. We do not walk in rain. Plus, have you seen my awesome brand new Chuck taylor canvas sneakers?”

My Chucks are HOT, SON! (that's @VinNay's crotch, B... on Twitpic

M awesomely loaned me her umbrella so I could quit my whining. OH DUDE! She has this magic “bag of requirements” purse that basically produces whatever she needs. We were sitting outside and it was super hot so…BAM she produces a fan! We got tired and didn’t want to walk anymore… ta-da she produces a city bus! Then VinNay started having a heart attack, because he is forty and still smoking, VOILA! she busts out a defibrillator. Hmm…maybe Astin’s not the only witch in Toronto…

When we finally got back to Astin’s I was all “cake me! Cake me! Cake me!”

Little did I know:


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DUUUUDDEEEE!!!!! She MADE A MINI ME!!! I don’t know if you can really tell from the picture, but mini Dawn even has teeny braids!!

Okay, and how sick is it that I was dressed EXACTLY like my candy doppleganger???!!!


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That I even brought my Rangers jersey was such a last minute decision! And I almost left it at VinNay’s apartment in my fury over Sleep-Gate. Of course, I can’t tell if Astin and M are witches because they knew what I would be wearing when they made my model OR if I wore what I wore because they put it on my model. Just in case, I took the model of me home for safe keeping… I don’t want to suddenly start singing Oh Canada, wearing McGill shirts and defecting from the U.S.

Incidentally, if anyone ever says any of those things happened in my happiness over my cake, they are damn hell ass liars. OH AND DUUUDDEEE!! Astin made the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream AND they somehow baked it (froze it?) INTO THE CAKE! So I had a caramel cookie dough ice cream cake WITH ME on it! Do we notice how I am ignoring the Chinese Pete flag and the Sabres flag? NO BIRTHDAYS FOR THEM! (Though the Chinese flag made me laugh out loud!)

After eating cake, getting fancy home roasted, hand picked magic coffee, we played Jungle Speed. Now, usually, it’s Mary who gets injured during these games because I am too slow and lazy to end up fighting over the pole. However, somehow, VinNay manageed to whack me in the center of my head with the totem pole, knocking me over. My only consolation is that he dropped it and ended up having to collect all the cards. Jungle speed gets serious, yo! I was volunteering to help Astin in the kitchen to get away! He kept saying no. #mean

Oh, so a couple of weeks ago, Astin started playing words with friends with me. It’s like Scrabble for the smartphone. We played this game that ended 326-326. THE DAMN HELL ASS PROGRAM sends me a message saying “You lost.” And they send him a message saying “You won.” WHAT IN ALL HELL?????

Now, since it was my birthday, I requested that I win at jungle speed. Of course, Astin and I end up tying. So, Astin goes “You know the rules, Dawn. In Canada the tie goes to the whitest person.”

“But…but…IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! You’re Canadian and have to do the polite thing!”

So he goes:

“Oh. Right. I forgot! I’m sorry that in Canada the ties go to the whitest person, Dawn.”

O_o

#RACES

Astin’s apartment is totally amazing! He also has a sick roofdeck and I assume he must be assistant prime minister or something, because no regular person could possibly live like that! They make their own cakes and ice creams and pasta and coffees! And then, when I asked for popcorn, they like shucked ears and hand popped the kernels! WTF?! I was totally like “I’m glad you guys visited my apartment first, because after this, I don’t think I would have let you come over!”

Alas, it had grown dark and Toronto Birthday came to a close. I was sad we didn’t get a chance to have fancy martinis with Kat, but thanks to Sir Sleeps A-lot, the day was too short. However, as we drove back across the border, I found myself thinking

“Wow! Canada is awesome!”

Oh no…where did that come from…where is that mini-Dawn doll??!!

Damn, witches!!!

1. Since the writing of this post, the NFL has ended the lockout and there will be a 2011 football season. Therefore, I no longer remember what hockey is. I’m black, people! BLACK!

Taylor Tuesday!

Tuesday, July 26th, 2011 by Dawn Summers


Seems the only one who doesn’t see your beauty
Is the face in the mirror looking back at you
You walk around here thinking you’re not pretty
But that’s not true, cause I know you…

Hold on, baby, you’re losing it
The water’s high, you’re jumping into it
And letting go… and no one knows
You cry, but you don’t tell anyone
That you might not be the golden one
And you’re tied together with a smile
But you’re coming undone

Have a good weekend

Thursday, July 21st, 2011 by Dawn Summers

There comes a time where you fade to the blackness
And when you’re staring at that phone in your lap
And you hoping but them people never call you back
But that’s just how the story unfolds
You get another hand soon after you fold
And when your plans unravel
And they sayin’ what would you wish for
If you had one chance
So airplane airplane sorry I’m late
I’m on my way so don’t close that gate
If I don’t make that then I’ll switch my flight
And I’ll be right back at it by the end of the night

Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars

Not so random question

Wednesday, July 20th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

I am as charming as I think I am, right?

Please remember it is the birthday season. And I am not afraid of violence.

On the other hand, I think I’m really really really extremely charming… so… um…you know what… nevermind.

*backs away from post slowly*

Happy Birthday to Sid the kid

Tuesday, July 19th, 2011 by Dawn Summers


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The hippest cat in the hood.

I still remember getting the text, three years ago, announcing your super early arrival. July is the bestest birthday month of them all! Too bad VinNay and Smokey don’t know anything about that!

Quote of the day

Monday, July 18th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”
— Jodi Picoult

Birthday season continueth

Monday, July 18th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Now, tis my joyous happy birthday season, so I hate to bring down the mood of the blog with my sad tales of starving on my birthday after missing my reservation at Rosa Mexicano because a monsoon hit Brooklyn and traffic made grocery shopping take four hours instead of forty minutes.

I shall spare you the misery of carrying my forty pound birthday cake to Tribeca and somehow dropping the bootleg 7/11 turkey sandwich I bought, somewhere along the route from the bodega to the poker game.

Never you mind that I’ve been miserably sick *twice* in the last three weeks and the kind resident who perused my chart as I sucked in oxygen from a tube, was all “hey, you just had a birthday, huh”?
And when I nodded weakly beneath the plastic mask, she said, in a pitying voice, matched only by the pitying look in her eye, “well, happy belated birthday.”

No, ye shall hear none of those self indulgent tales of woe today! That kind of transparent grasp for lots and lots of comments to make me feel better is something I might have done when I was 29 or 30.
But now that I am 31, I am wiser and tougher and I focus on the awesome positive things.

Like…um… I got to eat cake for dinner on my birthday! And Charlie let me hijack his bimonthly poker game and everyone there sang me happy birthday…well, almost everyone… Oh and Charlie got me a designer momufuko cake which was deee-licious and Mary didn’t get any! Ha!

And though I didn’t win the tournament, that meant I got to go home early and get in a good night’s rest for my barbecue the next day.

In keeping with the theme of this particular birthday season, I shanghai’d Pi’s gorgeous Ditmas Park house and we grilled out on her porch.
(OH. MY. GOSH! Baby Alexander is totally walking already! He’s three months old, so no one believes me AND he won’t walk for anyone else, so I can’t videorecord it, BUT IT HAPPENED!!)

Ahem. Where was I?

Oh, it was fun! My nemesis Amanda drove down from Connecticut with a fancy delicious vanilla cake decorated to celebrate the sweet, darling young lady that I am. And she totally won herself fans. My mom was all “can you make a cake for my birthday in August”?

Why is my mom always trying to remind people that her birthday is in August? So unseemly. Doesn’t she know you’re just supposed to let Facebook gently nudge your nearest and dearest? Sheesh.
Speaking of facebook, I had SOOOO MANY WALL POSTS! I couldn’t even get through them all to make notations on all the people who I still talk to and all the people who are dead to me. That’s a lie. I did that the very next morning. *whistles*
Oh, young Sidney and his dad came to the BBQ too. Ugarles hands me his usual buns from Errol’s (a treat I used to get as a kid when my godmother lived across the street from Ugarles’ current house.) And he says “there was a homeless man on the train and I thought about giving him the buns, but I didn’t want to find out if you could actually kill someone with sideeye.”
OH! Mary got me a set of live action plush angry birds, and Sidney was totally whacking the pig like a pro. I’m all “how does a two-year-old know how to play angry birds?”
And Ugarles is all “um…what? You think I parent? That’s what smartphones are for, woman.”

He’s lucky his boy is a genius. Like seriously, I was showing off Sidney’s vocabulary to all my friends like I had something to do with it. “Sidney, what are those called?”

“The cymbals, I told you that already,” he sighs.

“See? See? That Patriots outfit I bought for him when he was baby TOTALLY made him brilliant!”

And then when Amanda was all “what color is that,” he just about laughed in her face. “I dunno, it might be cobalt, but I guess it’s closer to navy.”

His parents should rent him out.

Hmmm, what else? Oh, my twitter friend starfishncoffee came, so my mom was all “two black friends?! WOW!”

Yeah, that’s right. I’m hip.

Props to Pdov (who Alexander totally loves! What is it with the Asians and the Jews?) Peter, Pretty Numbers and Gene for making it out to the BBQ AND the late night poker game. You guys are the bestest!

Thanks to Alceste and Dawn 2 for making my descent into alcoholism easier.

Thanks to the Jakes for funding my future ill advised late night Amazon shopping sprees.

Thanks to Smokey for nicely complementing Pearatty’s gift with a huge box of fancy coffee beans! I’m going to plant some and try to grow a coffee tree. I AM! I AM! YOU CAN’T STOP ME!

Thanks to the anonymous donor who got me the awesome sceenplaywriting software I’ve been coveting FOREVER!

OH and thanks to Fisch, who, in addition to getting me awesome presents, took my laptop from infected and dying to just slow and old. I would give him extra props for working on it in the middle of the night even though he has pneumonia, but I know he was just terrified that I would make good on my promise to move into his son’s room if I had to buy a new laptop that I couldn’t afford.

I also managed not to end up in twitter jail this year for tweeting too much! Huzzah for me! AND THE METS won on my birthday!

METS! WON! Huzzah!

Okay, so now you totally think the birthday post is over, right? And you’re like all ready to comment awesome comments and then… your phone rings and it’s KAZ AND TITO!

“Huh? what? No, the post is over guys, I’ve already ended it with my traditional “huzzah…” you’re on your way over? With my birthday key lime pie?!

“What? It’s not key lime?” O_O

“Oh, no, you were joking? It IS keylime! O-KAY! Then I guess the birthday post can continue for a little while longer.”

THAT TOTALLY HAPPENED! I had already left Pi’s house and was all “oh…no keylime pie…er…I mean no wonderful hanging out with Kaz and Tito.”

Not that I noted all those who weren’t there and put them on lists.

Oh, Pearatty was also all “yeah we’re flying out to Toronto,” in the first week of July. And I was all yeah “Toronto” suuurrreeee. I mean, no way is my adorable Arizona nephew flying East *during my birthday month* and NOT coming to see me in Brooklyn. Right? RIGHT? But, as if he could read my mind, her husband kept sending daily pictures like “here we are on the plane to Toronto.”

“Here we are landing in Toronto.”

“This is our hotel in Toronto.”

“Here we are eating the local Toronto dish of Toronto fried Toronto beans.”

Then, finally a shot of the whole family holding up a “seriously, Dawn, we’re in Toronto. We are not coming to your BBQ in Brooklyn. To-ron-to” sign.

I’m keeping the fresh towels out in the Pearatty suite, though, you know… just in case.

But yeah, so anyway, after the BBQ was over Kaz and Tito came by my apartment and we had birthday party number two…or three. I was all “wooo, I went from no key lime pie at all to key lime pie all for myself!”

“What do you mean, you are going to stay and eat key lime pie with me? Who says? That was not what I agreed to.”

But it was fun. Kaz played with the live angry birds even though something something open source freeware code. And we watched Machete and I learned that my George Foreman grill actually makes really good hamburgers and hot dogs VERY FAST!

Oh yes, it’s been a Dawn Summers BBQ everyday since then. OH and they got me THE. GREATEST. T-shirt. EVER.

Okay and now the birthday post is over.

*looks around* *checks phone* *checks mailbox*

Huzzah!

New poll

Friday, July 15th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Apparently, 16% of Americans believe it’s okay for a husband to beat his wife.
I find this APPALLING! Well, unless we’re talking about Tom Brady. He can and probably should beat his wife. A lot.

O_O

Not so random thought

Tuesday, July 12th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

I either need to be 17% less sensitive or 34% less vindictive. Things are spinning wildly out of control. *whistles*



You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe your reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it’s time, you’ll know

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go “Ah, ah, ah”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go “Ah, ah, ah”
You’re gonna leave ’em all in awe, awe, awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through-ough-ough