Michael's dead!

I'm shocked. :0 I now ask you to come on a little journey and reminisce with me. The stage: a half finished 80s decor basement. Horrible brown and tan plush swirled carpet, dark wood panel walls, a record player the size of an oven with a bent needle. A chubby nine year old girl on her knees wearing her Mother's old neon legwarmers and hot pink shoulder shirt. Her tone deaf imitation of the Jackson Five's Who's Loving You making people wince upstairs. That, ladies and gentlemen was me. (As if you couldn't guess.) I fell in love with my Father's almost broken record player at a young age. When I hit the age where you stop being a cute little girl and aren't a "hot" teenager yet I tore into my parent's record collection. I happened to find the precious jewel that is 'Diana Ross Presents the Jackson 5' and fell deeply in love with Toriano Adaryll "Tito" Jackson. He was my first celebrity crush. Oh, Tito. Michael was Tito's "brother", so rest in peace, even if you were off your rocker.

Onto a totally unrelated paragraph! I'm leaving for New York City, New York tomorrow morning. I'm going with....Girl Scouts. We're staying at some snazzy hotel and have a bus tour lined up. I'm just looking forward to the experience. I'm taking my camera but will probably only taking a few pictures. I always seem to get caught up in the thrill of traveling to actually slow down and take pictures. Plus, pictures never have the same effect. Seeing the NYC skyline won't hit you the same way it will when you're gazing at if off your hotel balcony. The shifting colors and rush of Times Square can't be captured in a photo. I'm excited. :)