Every year after I moved out of my dad’s year he has forgotten my birthday.  I was his only kid.  Every year this pissed me off.  You can’t remember your ONLY CHILD and ONLY LIVING RELATIVE’s birthday?  He just didn’t find it important.  A few years ago I started to not care anymore. Sort of.  I guess I still cared, but I figured one year maybe he’d accidentally get it right and I should give up hoping for it.

Which is why today I bawled when I realized that my dad would never forget my birthday again.

I realized it would take a long time to feel better about my dad dying because I loved a lot of things about him; I never realized that the shitty things would also continue to make me feel bad.

Really,

Malcolm Forbes’ personal jet was named “The Capitalist Tool.”  It’s also the motto of Forbes Magazine.  That’s awesome.