Three years today; three years since my dad died. And at this point, I've got mixed emotions. Today was also the final day of the Giro d'Italia and the penultimate episode of "The Sopranos". Interesting.

You know what, dad kinda sucked as a father. I mean, he was a good guy, sorta, but looking back he was genuinely lousy at the whole dad thing. I have no doubt he loved my sister and I, but that doesn't quite ink the deal. I could go on and on and on, but that's really not going to change anything or bring him back for another try. He didn't know how to do it, and I'm fairly certain I don't either. But then that's why I chose to not do the whole parenting thing.

Sorry for the crappy post, but that's what's on my mind right now.