Concept 1: I have to live somewhere diverse. I love places with lots of types of things to do and people from all different backgrounds and situations. These things breed possibility, and sometimes dissonance, and such things are fodder for the writer in me. Because of this, I love, love Baltimore.
Concept 2: I don't handle rejection well. Seriously, I don't. Innevitably after every rejection letter I receive, I spend at least a day convinced that I have absolutely no talent and should quit trying to be a writer. And the annoying thing is that I KNOW rejection is part of being a writer (and I do talk myself out of it), and I know I shouldn't get so upset, but I do.
These concepts converged on Tuesday night when I came home from a bad day at work to find a rejection letter. And the worst kind-- the kind I waited six weeks for and thought I had a real shot at. I commenced my normal post-rejection letter freak out, which led to a trip to the grocery store for a post-rejection Berger Cookie.
If you're not from Baltimore, you may not know what a Berger cookie is, so let me enlighten you. This is a Berger cookie. It's like a cakey-cookie and fudge had a baby and their sweet baby helps get me out of a funk every now and again.
While in line to buy my Berger cookies, I noticed that behind me were two tall, muscular men in their mid-forties. They began discussing a friend's recent arrest, referring not only several bail bondsmen but also several guards at central booking by name. Following this, one man picks up a magazine about the upcoming wedding of Brad Pitt and Angelina Joley. He looks at his friend and says "Damn, it is about time he marries that woman."
The other man agrees, adding "And that mofo better $*)#( wear Armani to his #(%)#( wedding."
And I couldn't help but smile, inwardly thanking my city for always providing me with something random to make me laugh.
The whole east coast is filled with colorful characters like that. Love it!
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