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Wow, I haven't blogged for one day and it feels like an eternity. Nothing much to report concerning yesterday, just visited my grandparents for the first time since I left. What was funny was I left with a huge feast, and returned with a huge feast. Welcome the King! I haven't baked/cooked in a while as well so it was great to get back to that again with my SISTER! (my sister ... can you believe?) I was also able to find the famous saussicons (french for sausages) at the Vella household. Shit, i miss France.

That last sentence actually leads perfectly into what this entry is all about. Today was probably the most liberating day I've ever had. Firstly, I guess because France was just an amazing amazing experience, a lot of emotions were temporarily stored somewhere in me, I guess it was my way of trying so hard not to EVER forget France, the wonderful people I've met, the wonderful experiences I've had, and more importantly, the memories and things I've learned. I'd love to do it over and over and over again. I know I'm the type of person who isn't the best when it comes to realization, it takes me a while, I can't call myself brave when I can't even face reality once it presents itself straight to my face. The same goes with Michael Jackson. Oh, i can't even start. 

I vaguely remember the day before I left, I went to the trusty basement salon to get my eyebrows threaded with the one and only LV. I was perfectly fine, just a tad sad that I was leaving but I tried not to think about it. I think this was probably the reason why I suddenly broke down, IN THE MIDDLE OF THREADING! Who the hell breaks down while threading ... well I guess those in pain, but there's a trick to threading, y'all. Anyway, I digress.

So today I watched P.S. I love you. What a tragic, tragic movie. No matter what people say about it's happy and refreshing ending, it was a tragic movie to me. Maybe because I always believe that losing someone can never gurantee complete happiness, i mean come on, you can say you're completely happy, you can say you're completely satisfied, you've completely moved on, but a part of you, no matter how small, will always, ALWAYS just remain forever devoid. You can never completely, entirely move on. The relationship of Holly and Gerry, no matter how scripted, was the best, BEST relationship i've ever felt. heartfelt, it was VERY, EXTREMELY heartfelt. I cried. In so many parts, in the most cheesiest parts, in the heaviest parts, and of course, for every P.S. I love you said. And i could NOT stop, i just simply could not. For the first time, I was willing to shower even through a Michael Jackson tribute concert just because I needed a full ten minutes to let everything out. The last time I cried like, i do not remember. I didn't only cry because of the movie, although I did cry way more than Hilary Swank ever did in that movie. I cried, I think, because I miss france and my second family there. I cried because I miss everything about France. I cried because P.S. I love you was a perfect movie, and Gerard Butler, or Gerry Kennedy was THE perfect husband, what with his irish accent and genuine, pure heart. And more importantly, I cried, I FINALLY cried, for Michael Jackson. Tears I've been holding back since that early, rainy morning in Alliance Francaise (Toulouse), my first hearing of his death. I guess this was my form of withdrawal, funny cos my facebook status was "home! withdrawal soon" for a while. What a fortune teller I am. I miss my friends, too.

If anything, I believe I am the biggest fan of Michael Jackson. The biggest 16-year-old fan of MJ, at least. I am sorry to say that I can never watch a concert of his except through, as I've always done since before, youtube and DVD's. The man is a legend, truly the BEST entertainer that ever lived. I cannot even begin to explain just how much I wish I could turn back time, find a way to salvage such a legend. He will live on forever, but as I said, I will always wish he were still alive. I was eagerly awaiting his This is it london tours, even just to see it on TV. Nothing's ever enough, nothing will ever be enough. I fell in love with Michael Jackson, despite the controversies, the shady entourage with the drugs, and everything else, Michael Jackson's reputation and image was never tainted, not even a tiny scratch, in my heart. I fell in love with his music, his heart, and his love for the world and children. 

Phew, that was quite a bit to write. As of now I am enjoying his thirtieth anniversary show, his notes are so genuinely hit, he sings with the most passionate voice. As someone said, he set the bar up high, then he broke the bar because Michael Jackson's brilliance goes beyond anything measurable. Michael Jackson's death was the death of my grave interest in music. Everything else is just crap, only MJ and the Beatles will live on. Sometimes, actually, all the time, it's better to just take it slow. Recovering too quickly is just a waste of memories. There we go, relieved.