Those who have known me the longest know that Michael Jackson was once a big part of my life. Not because I had a huge crush on him or thought he was the bees knees, but because my Mother did. She had posters everywhere, listened to his tapes constantly over and over, watched Moonwalker a thousand times, quoted facts about his life to us on a daily basis, and make scuplutres of him out of any median she could get her hands on. One the most memorable sculptures was made out of newspaper, tape, paint, porceline finish (found at a craft store) and ... well anything else she thought would help. I wonder what ever happpened to that bust. Hm. Anyway. So to have my Mom lose her BFF and now first iconic crush must really be depressing her. I can just imagine that this is one of those things that she would have called Carla and talked hours about. Instead who is left but me? I can't talk tonight. I need to go to bed. I had Tim take the day off from work and call in sick to help me. He ended up with a compromise of working from home.

Sigh. Okay. To bed with me. I have to feel better. I just have too!