Roses are Red, Beer is Cheap

I've written a new poem. It's of the genre that I like to call Redneck Poetry. I think, in fact, that I would like to write a whole book full of this genre of poetry.

That being said, here it is. Enjoy!

Roses are Red, Beer is Cheap

Roses are red,

And violets are not.

I'm glad you're my honey,

'Cause you're pretty hot.

I ain't got you no chocolate;

That just wouldn't do.

'Cause beer's cheaper than roses,

And it tastes better, too.

Mission Accomplished

When I first heard the news, I thought it was a joke.

Turns out, it isn't.

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

Tonight, a nation has come together to celebrate. Not to celebrate the death of a man, but to celebrate justice. It isn't about politics, race, or religion. It's about justice.

To those lost on 9/11, to those who live on without them, may you feel at peace. May you experience some sense of closure.

"I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure." —Mark Twain 

They Were Right All Along

I think it must be a cosmic rule, an irrefutable truth, that at some point in your life you'll come to the realization that your parents really were right about everything. All those times they'd say, "One day you'll understand..." Yeah, that's true. And all those times they told me, "Enjoy where you are right now. When you're older, you'll wish you could go back." That's true, too. My scrawny eight year old self scoffed. My twelve year old self scoffed even more. And my fifteen year old self would've straight up committed murder to be sixteen and driving even a week before legally able.

But now, as I'm wrapping up this semester of college and faced with only one more semester after this in the undergraduate season of my life, I finally have had The Epiphany. The "They were RIGHT!" epiphany. The "How did they KNOW?!" epiphany.

Now that I'm that age I used to dream of being, I keep thinking to myself...what was I thinking? Being eight, being ten, being fifteen was awesome. Life was more laid back. When I sit down and compare the stresses in my life now to the stresses in my life then, there's simply no comparison. It's interesting to see how my focus has changed, and what I now consider to be important. Or unimportant, for that matter. Life or deaths situations as a child—do I use the blue crayon or the purple crayon? Or do I use the silver glitter pen?! AH! How do I choose just ONE?!—now seem utterly simplistic and easy to solve (I use the purple crayon, duh.). Things that bothered me or stressed me out in high school—OMG I have to actually present my project to the whole class?!—now aren't monumental at all (Okay, I'm still not thrilled with presentations. But I can totally do them).

It may seem too little too late, having this realization at nearly twenty four years of age. I mean, it's not like I can go back in time and tell my teenage self, "Hey, just shut up and listen; they really do know what they're talking about. They really were young once, too." But it's not just hindsight that The Epiphany affects, oh no.

Because the thing is, now more than ever I realize out of all the people I can ask for advice, my parents are number one on my list. Because now I realize that chances are, the troubles I'm having, the stresses, the issues, they've been there. They understand. I don't know about you, but I find this to be such a relief. Who better to advise you, share their wisdom with you, counsel you, than those who want only the best for you? That's my Mom and Dad. Sure as the sun rises, they just want what's best for me. So I can count on the fact that any advice they give me is truly going to be meant to better me. To help me.

And you know what? That's pretty cool. So cool, in fact, that I'd even tolerate a rowdy bout of "I told you so!"s from Mom and Dad.

My wonderful Mom and Dad!