It’s been a while since I’ve written a reflective piece. So what better time than now? Today is my 28th birthday, Which means I have two more years to appreciate that I am not yet 30.
We are now in the seventh year in which I have started this blog. It’s certainly not a diary, but it’s fun for me to sometimes look back to the types of posts I was writing five years ago and see how much I’ve changed. When I first started, I was writing about topics like how much I hated Facebook, about the things that women do that annoy me, and about how much I hate waking up in the morning.
Yesterday I wrote about Iran. I guess that shows how much I have matured. Which is both a good thing, and a sad thing. There’s nothing better than being immature during an age when it’s acceptable to be immature. Those days are gone.
I still have no idea how many people actually read this thing, but in all honesty, I never really cared about that. I use this place as a means to be able to speak in my own voice. In the past, it helped me get things off of my chest that were bothering me, and now, as I’ve become a more little more aware about things happening in the world, it lets me try my hand and putting my own humorous spin on the news. I genuinely enjoy it. Always have.
And as I turn over to a new year in my life, I plan to continue learning. That’s something I strive to keep doing. I want to learn something new every day.
Today’s discovery? Apparently, for 28 years of my life, NOBODY HAS TOLD ME THAT MY BIRTHDAY IS ALSO NATIONAL BEER DAY.
I’m so mad about this that part of me wants to sever ties with every single person that I know.
Somebody brought this to my attention today. I thought he was kidding, but then I looked it up myself. It’s true.
My next thought was: “OK, maybe this is a new, jokey thing. That’s why nobody told me.”
But then I saw that it’s origins date back to 1933, when the Cullen-Harrison Act signed by Franklin D. Roosevelt went into effect, effectively ending prohibition in the United States.
And yet, it took me 28 years to find this out. National Beer Day is my birthday. I would have flaunted the shit out of this every year had I known, using it as an excuse to get stupid drunk on my birthday, while encouraging others to do the same. Not that I needed any extra incentive.
I mean, what other awesome holiday could you have on your birthday that’s better than that — besides maybe National Party Day. Or National Birthday Day.
I suppose it’s better to find it out now then when I’m, say, 62. Which would be in the year 2049. But, let’s face it, my previous tendencies to treat every day like it’s National Beer Day may be the reason I never make it to then.
Nonetheless, it is an honor and a privilege to share my birthday with the one friend that will never let you down: Beer.
Except every morning after drinking it.