Where does the good go

Archive for October, 2011


Friday, October 28th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

So, VinNay has decided today is talk to Dawn in Black sitcom titles day. I don’t even know how this started — somehow it started with live-texting watching Annie (this is why people should be sleeping at 6:30 in the morning) these are the best ones so far:

Me: Listing litany of bad things.
VinNay: Ahh, #goodtimes

VinNay: Who else is with you? Are you #hangingwithmrhooper

VinNay: Are they dating or is she #livingsingle?

Me: Quick, change my hole cards to pocket jacks.

VinNay: All my powers can do is give you a flop of #227.

VinNay: In #Adifferentworld you would have hit that flush.

Me: You’re going to run out.
VinNay: I think I can keep it up if I find a dictionary. I think I have a #Websters around here somewhere.
VinNay: I can keep this up all day #SisterSister

Then he took a “nap” for thirteen hours…cause I guess black people are lazy? #races

Conversation of my Life

Thursday, October 27th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Voice on phone: Hi, sweetie it’s your grandma.

Me: I’m pretty sure you have the wrong number. My grandma is dead and you actually sound nice. Sorry.

Winehouse died of alcohol overdose

Wednesday, October 26th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

O_o Um. I did not need to know that one could die from drinking too much alcohol. WPBT plans now completely scuttled.

Quote of the week

Tuesday, October 25th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

See, I can’t even spell Manhatten. They’d eat me alive! -VinNay on his refusal to move to America

What’s his is ours!

Tuesday, October 25th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

A few weeks ago, Alceste told Mary and I that he was test driving new Audi SUVs and planned to trade in the Lexus.
“Sweet!” We both said all encouragingly.

Last Saturday, when the three of us were heading down to the City… not the Pacific one, the Atlantic one, in my boring old two-year old Beamer, Mary and I had the same thought: Heeeyy, wwhhheerrreee’sss oooouuuurrrr nnnneeeewww ccccaaaarrrr??? #RUDE

Alceste was  all blah blah blah economy blah blah financial responsibility. And we’re all, dude, you promised us a damn hell ass new car!  New car! New car! New car!

Next time, he should follow Kearns’ lead and get a new car and then never speak to any of us again. I mean next next time, he owes us an Audi! Now now now!

Bullying pulpit

Friday, October 21st, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Yesterday was some kind of bully awareness day. From the mom tweeters that I read, public schools have gone to some weird “zero tolerance” bullying policy whereby if a child is kicked by another child and retaliates, they are both expelled.

That strikes me as dumb and overbroad.

In New Jersey, a guy who caught his roommate making out with another man with his webcam, is being prosecuted because his roommate then jumped off the GW Bridge because his gayness was now out. This too strikes me as dumb and misplaced prosecution.


I saw a funny tweet in response to all the bullying ones that went something like “the solution to bullying is to grow a pair.”

Which, I know, easy to say harder to practice, especially with all these stupid rules now. At what point during retaliation does the bullied become the bullier? I can remember fights on the playground after some kid called me Shamu the whale or tripped me in the cafeteria, where the other kid’s face was well and good shoved into the asphalt and I’d still kick them in the stomach for extra good measure. That was probably…um… wrong?

And then there’s bullying that I absolutely approve of… this dude on twitter was writing about his “mind grain.” As in headache. DUUUDEEEE!

So many people retweeted his words with mocking preambles that he deleted his tweets and started crying that people were making fun of him. If you are over the age of 10 and still think migraine is 1) two words and/or 2) contains a d, you deserve whatever you get.

Then there was the guy who thought there were 28 letters in the alphabet. Ditto for him. Whatever. He. Gets.

And no, kids shouldn’t be picked on for being gay or black or fat or ugly or fashionless — but schoolyard fights, teasing, they’re part of growing up, aren’t they? Are we raising a generation of sensitive ass whiners who won’t be able to take a joke? Who won’t be able to handle it when our Chinese overlords tease them about the shape of their eyes and their good driving?

I hope not, cause then I’m going to need to write all new material for my blogs!

Why I’m Single: Reason #908,765

Thursday, October 20th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

One of my facebook friends posted this article on his page yesterday. We’re not close, we graduated high school together, didn’t speak much then and certainly haven’t spoken since. He appears to be divorced with a son about 8 or 9 from the pictures. The article, part of the New York Times’ “Modern Love,” series (which I’m not familiar with) tells the story of a couple — maybe in their 50s, who have been together for 20 years and have a young children:

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, “I don’t buy it.” Because I didn’t.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he’d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. “I don’t like what you’ve become.”

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That’s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn’t.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: “I don’t buy it.”

You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “The End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn’t yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn’t been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He’d been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn’t buying it.

I said: “It’s not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents’ happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who’ll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”


The guy who posted this on his page, shared the article saying “this woman is so brave.” Now, see, when I read the story I immediately thought of a dozen adjectives to describe this chick (delusional, crazy, dumb, sad…), brave did not come up. Not even briefly.

I can’t imagine where you are in life to have someone that you love and trust, basically spit in your face and you wipe it away with the back of your hand and ask what they want for dinner. Now, I’m not even saying I would rage or scream or throw things, cause I wouldn’t, but you best believe I would buy it. Right away, no questions asked.


A man doesn’t say such things without putting serious thought into it for a long time! Hell, I believe that shit when it’s not even said – when it’s just actions suggesting it — ignored texts, unreturned phone calls, disappearing acts — fuck that shit, I’m out, son!

I suppose marriage and children and the like should be taken more seriously, but DAMN. Dude, said he wanted OUT! What if this were the story about a woman who said the same thing and her husband was all “Nope. I don’t buy it.” I saw that movie, and got damn if I wasn’t clapping when Tina Turner finally got her divorce.

If this is “modern love,” I’ll be over here on my couch watching Revenge, thank you very much.


Wednesday, October 19th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

I guess it’s my own fault for not remembering that Mary only blogs consistently one time of the year: October.

Why? Because she isn’t just called Scary Mary because it rhymes.

Seriously, go on… click that link. I double dog dare you.

HA! Chicken!

Anyhoo… Scary Mary is more than mid way through this year’s Halloween themed madness: scariest characters in television and movies (I refuse to call it “Telly” because my forefathers shot muskets in the faces of the dang dirty British, so I could call it TV like a good American. What? Yeah, so apparently Sarah Palin and I took the same American history class in high school. What of it?! SEXISTS!)

Anyway, go catch up with the monster mash over on the Loony net.

She hasn’t hit any of my scariest yet… though that little boy from the Twilight Zone is pretty darn freaky.

Commuter diaries

Wednesday, October 19th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

There’s a monsoon on in New York City this morning.

The water is falling in a steady, heavy stream. There is no wind though, so an umbrella will keep you dry.

I rolled up my pants legs to keep them from dragging along the wet pavement.

They came undone as I ran for the bus.

That bus turned out to be out of service.

There’s a monsoon on in New York City this morning and I’m waiting for a bus with wet pants legs.

Song of the Day

Wednesday, October 19th, 2011 by Dawn Summers