Well, let's do it

Kelli Mae: "But sauerkraut is a lot of work to make."
Sam: "No, no. Once you get a food processor, sauerkraut it makes itself--it makes itself, honey."

Makes sense

Me: "I haven't had coffee or alcohol in three days."
Sister: "God, no wonder you're depressed."

You're not a writer

Last night I was chatted up in a bar by some dude. Yes, I appreciate socializing, but this person was just lame. After he found out I majored in English, he started talking about characters and writing and how he'd like to write something someday. Two sentences later he also used the line, 'I'm a student of life.'

Do I even have to comment that this was a horrible conversation? Let me begin with the most important point: Wake up, people. Not everyone is a writer; not everyone can do it; it's not as easy as you think. Let it go, do what you are actually good at, and leave the writing to those who even have a modicum of understanding of the medium and who strive and sweat and laugh and cry over the art-form.

And a 'student of life'? Come on. What are you, a 60-year-old hippie? Who, by the way would have way more cause to used that hack cliche than a clueless 20-something. Gain some actual attributes and the proper adjectives to describe them. Not for me, or those who have to talk to you. For yourself, really.

My sister, comedic genius

Me: Josh Lyman on The West Wing is rumored to be based on Rahm Emmanuel.
Sister: Really? Cool.
Me: And his brother Ariel Emmanuel is the inspiration for Ari Gold, Jeremy Piven's character on Entourage.
Sister: And they say Jews don't run the world.

-------------

Me: [at the end of a long rant about Republicans] Why have any government at all? Then there would never be any taxes or spending! Problem solved!
Sister: You have to have the government to stop people from having abortions.

Inspiration? Motivation?

I have not posted in a while, partially due to the usual laziness, but also because my mind has been consumed by nervousness and terror and excitement about moving. But I got everything packed; the drive went well; and I got to see some friends. Now back to real life, but in a completely different place.

Two bits I stopped at a small gas station around the Windsor/Hartland area for some caffeine and a bathroom. It was small and quaint and sold homemade pastries and had country music playing on the radio. I could've just as well been in Georgia; rather than being depressing, it was reassuring. Most places are pretty much the same. But sometimes we need to be in there, to turn things over so they can start again. And there's a sadness in it, and loss, but simply feeling is good rather than your insides being in stasis, a festering of emotion and intellect.

Sadness tends to bring hope with it.

Scenes from tonight

Kara: Where are we going to get hookers and blow in Habersham?
Seth: You could substitute meth for blow.
K: Yeah, that would work.
Random guy in bar: Never substitute meth for blow.
K: Sage advice.

...

Random girl in bar: Who was the female lead in Spiderman?
K: Kirsten Dunst.
Girl: Thanks.
Seth: And that's why you got a master's in film.

...

K: You know what I hate? When people play "Piano Man" on the guitar.

...

S: Someday I'm going to record a cover of "Mr. Tambourine Man" using only a tambourine. There isn't a tambourine in that whole damn song.

How does this happen?

There is a store in the Newark airport simply entitled "America!".

There were lots of flags about.

A conversation

Stopping for brunch at the Highland Bakery on the way to the airport, Josh and Sam ask me about my plans for Thanksgiving break, which includes train rides.

Josh: I've never been on a train.
Sam: You've been on a MARTA train.
Josh: Yeah, but not a choo-choo train.