So I’m finally ready to focus on meeting the deadline for my book and DJ AM dies. Not that I was a particularly huge fan of DJ AM, but at this point it seems like anything that will distract me, does. So I go on TMZ.com and OF COURSE, he was despondent over a breakup and had post-traumatic stress disorder over the plane crash he almost died in. So basically, he dies anyway stressing about the near death experience he first avoided? The Buddhists would have a field day with that one. So yes, friends not in the know, check out TMZ and you’ll get all of the DJ AM stuff you need. BTW, I have been distressed about many breakups and never once did I think – “Oh yeah, crack.” I think there might be a little more to this story.
Then yesterday the housekeeper comes in and tells me in Spanish that Michael Jackson really isn’t dead. Excuse me? I love that this is how I get my news. She said yes, she heard that really he’s not dead. I explained to her that neither is Elvis but the world somehow has continued to spin on its access just fine and she should pretty much rest assured that she’s not going to be going to one of his concerts anytime soon.
On other more important notes, my haircut made me very happy today (not too long, not too short) and my eyelashes appear to be growing thanks to Revitalash. Seriously. Want me to post a photo?
Today I am heading to the beach (because all of Southern California is on fire and I’m hoping that the water won’t be) to prep for my next teleseminar series with the fabulous Ruth Moyte.
Meanwhile, I’m going to look left and look right before I exit my driveway and make sure Michael Jackson isn’t out there lurking in the bushes anyway. Ta ta for now.
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