I've been haunted by death lately, but I didn't expect Hollywood to just give up so many ghosts like that.
Let's keep this list going at a brisk pace. Ed McMahon died the other day and had been having some financial troubles, so I felt bad that he was struggling, but at least he was an older man (so it wasn't a big surprise, but still unexpected).
Farrah Fawcett had been fighting cancer for a couple of years and it was just announced Monday that she and Ryan O'Neil would be getting married. He said that it would be just as soon as she could say "yes", but it was never meant to be. I was just surprised and saddened for her, especially since I've been reading a book, Rolling the R's, which invokes Farrah as the 70s icon that she was (it's about a group of 5th graders in Hawaii; it's ultimately about Asian American identity and gay identity), so I felt bad about reading about her (like we were invoking her presence and bringing her back into the spotlight just to die).
And, finally, Michael Jackson. I was watching, of all things 16 and Pregnant (yeah, I don't know why I was watching, either) when the news ran on the bottom of the screen. So now I'm watching the program that MTV threw together about his life and career. They're planning on doing a Michael Jackson marathon on VH1 Classic all weekend. I'm so at a loss for words that I can't even articulate how I'm feeling about this. I am actually upset about this, because it was so sudden. My mom isn't that much older than MJ, so it's just rather...sad. And they just got through playing the The Jacksons: An American Dream just this week. I feel for his family; his children, his siblings (It's got to be hard for Jermaine & co. when you lose a sibling that was younger than most of them), and even his parents.
I ask you all to forgive me as I will not post pictures of Devi tonight. I just can't do it, not after this.