"There's a place in your heart, and I know that it is love..."

Michael Jackson passed away today. I'm at a loss for what to say or do. I've always been a huge fan of Michael--I can remember writing in my Lisa Frank diary about how upset I was when he married Lisa Marie Presley because I wanted him to marry me instead. 'The Jacksons: An American Dream' was always one of my favorite movies, and I recorded it onto VHS and would watch it over and over and over (and I never missed the showings on VH1 or BET); I can't remember not being completely impressed by his talent. People always looked at me like I was completely nuts when I told them how much I loved Michael Jackson, but I never backed down. No one could even come close to him in my mind.

Now that he's gone, I feel like my childhood has ended. Michael Jackson was someone I've loved from a very young age, and now that he's gone it feels like the end of an era. I think the hardest thing to deal with is that Michael was a constant connection to my father. My dad loved the Jackson 5 and played their music constantly around the house; he loved Michael's solo work just as much. I remember sitting in the living room with him, eating fresh garden tomatoes with salt and watching 'The Jacksons: An American Dream'. Our shared love of Michael Jackson was something that made me feel closer to my dad.

Now that Michael's gone, it feels like I lost my dad all over again. I'm grieving not only for Michael, but for my father as well. I still want to believe that Michael planned all of this so he could get out of the public eye, and now he's on an island somewhere living a life filled with laughter. I know that, in Heaven, my father is so excited to finally meet Michael and tell him how much he appreciated his music. I appreciate both of them for being such large parts of my life, and hope they both found the peace that they deserve.

Father's Day

Father's Day is tomorrow, and I approach the holiday with a combination of sadness, anger, and guilt. As you may or may not know, my father died when I was thirteen. He died after a divorce from my mom which allowed me to see him only every other weekend, and sometimes not even that much. I can't remember many phone calls, birthday cards, or Christmas gifts from him before he passed.

What I can remember, though, is how he looked the last time I saw him. He was progressively getting sicker and sicker, so my mom drove me to see him. He looked a little thinner, a little grayer, but he greeted me with a smile and spent all of his time trying to make me as comfortable as possible--getting me snacks and drinks, asking me about my life, cracking jokes to make me smile. I left not knowing that would be the last time we would speak. Not much later, I awake one Sunday morning with a feeling of dread--I knew that day was my father's last day on Earth. And sure enough, Mom came in later that night with tears in her eyes to tell me the news.

Each year it's gotten tougher and tougher to remember the small details about our relationship, and I am so ashamed of that. He is half of what I am, and I want to make sure that mi children know about their skinny, funny, Kentucky Wildcats-loving grandfather. My dad's side of the family doesn't have much to do with me. The last time I saw them was at my high school graduation four years ago; I sent them an invitation to my college graduation with no reply or response whatsoever. It hurts, but I'm just waiting for them to come around. I shouldn't have to beg them to be a part of my life.

Last night some of the girls were talking about the gifts they got their father's for tomorrow, and I just stayed quiet. I have nothing to give and no one to give it to. I want to take a trip to where my dad is buried, but since I'm working tomorrow I won't be able to do that--it will have to wait. I want to find something special to take when I go, something to show Daddy that I haven't forgotten him and don't intend to. Everyone always says my mom and I look just alike, to which I reply, "Well, you've never seen my dad." I hope he's proud of the things I've done; I miss him more and more every day.

It's been a long, long time comin'...

First off, my sincerest apologies for not writing more often. I broke my New Year's resolution to write once a week and, since you're reading this, you know about my lack of willpower. :( But I plan on using the shame I'm currently feeling to get my ass in gear and write like I should. Thank you, conscience.

Anyhow, so many things have happened since I last wrote. I met my district manager, Laura, and tried to turn on the charm in hopes of getting a full-time job with the company when I graduate in May. I'm not sure how charming I actually was considering I was nervous as all get-out, but she likes the results I produce so hopefully she'll work some magic. Keep your fingers crossed.

My great-great aunt, Lois Smith, passed away a few weeks ago. I was really shocked by it; I just saw her when I went home for Christmas break and she seemed happy and fine. It's crazy how someone can be here one minute and gone the next. I wasn't able to go to the funeral because one of my professors wouldn't let me make up the classwork, but I did say a special prayer for her. I know she's much better off than we are, but it's still odd knowing she's not here anymore.

On a lighter note, I have a boyfriend! I didn't expect him to come into my life, but I'm so glad to have him. He's younger than I am, but he's awesome--so sweet and funny and just...great. I'm ridiculously happy for the first time in I can't remember how long. I hope things work out with us, but I'm trying to not get my hopes up. We'll just have to wait and see. :)

And on another boy-note, I finally let go of someone that I'd kept in my life for way too long. I told this person (a previous ex boyfriend) that I didn't see us getting back together because I couldn't recreate the feelings that I had for him the first time around. I gave him my whole heart--every single thing I had was his. When he left, he left scars that I still can't look past. I guess it's the realist in me showing--why would I give you my heart a second time when you've already broken it once? But I told him how I felt and I haven't heard from him since. I cherish the time we had together, but there was no way I could go back. I still care for him deeply though, and I hope he finds what he's looking for.

Nationals for speech is fastly approaching, and I'm more than a little nervous. I want to end my senior year with a bang, but with class and work and my sorority, my plate is a little more than full. I will miss speech more than anything once this year is over, and I feel really bad that I can't focus on it completely. But I just keep telling myself that I'm looking for a career, something that will feed me and clothe me and keep a roof over my head after college is over. I don't feel good about it, but I have to sacrifice the short-term for the long-term. It's for the best.

Anyway, now that you've been sufficiently caught up on the life of Ashley, I'll leave you to the rest of your day. I'm going to a Greek formal tonight with my boyfriend; I'll post pictures as soon as I can. Also, I'm delving into the foray of slam poetry, so I'll be posting some of my work for (constructive) criticism. Thank you for listening; I appreciate it more than you know. Talk to you soon!