Tonight, I went to Joey's Only Seafood Restaurant to celebrate my dad's birthday.

The day started out with me hugging him and wishing him 35 more years tacked onto his 65. I made him a salt-fish omelette with toasted bagels, but later on, my mom and my younger brother, who bought dinner, took us all out to treat dad and the family.

I was lucky enough to find a meal-sized salad and wimpy rice pilaf on the menu, otherwise I would've ended up drinking the ketchup. I feared, before going there, that fish would be in EVERYTHING! I hated fish when I was an omnivore, especially when I was a kid, but now that I've cut it out of my diet, as it's the thing vegans avoid, I end up going to a restaurant where I'm surrounded by it, like a lesbian at a frat party. A fish market would've been worse, since the smell of cooked fish wasn't bad. I can't stand the taste/smell/reference of fish!

No birthday call from my older brother. He's terrible at remembering other people's birthdays, so I wasn't surprised. Not even a phonecall! I should've e-mailed him to remember to call dad, but I didn't think I'd have to do that!

Sheesh!

Afterwards, we treated dad to a sundae at Dairy Queen. It was sweet seeing him enjoy his little treat while my mom drove us home.

He was getting all bummed out this morning about how he's getting old, about how when he dies that we should just bury him in a plain box in Jamaica and make no more fuss.

Next thing I know, I'll be 65 and wondering where my youth went. I'll be watching the news all the time, wondering why the world is the way it is, and why it didn't stay the same as when I was young? I'll be feared by the younger lesbians as some dirty ol'dyke looking for fresh young meat. Parents will warn their children about me.