I am very sad to hear of Anna Nicole Smith’s death. She’s about my age, and I used to see her around, back in the day when I used to see people around. I didn’t know her well, but I always thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. So pale and blonde, with this incredible soft serve ice cream vulnerability, like ripe summer peaches hot from the sun, or rice pudding made from grains boiled for over a day on the stove; Anna Nicole Smith was the goddess of all things that are sweet and enveloping.
I hope that she is happy now, where she is. It is easy to picture her there, riding the clouds, her young son at her side, a million miles above the paparazzi and the tabloids, the gossip columns and the lawsuits and Bobby Trendy and Trimspa and the rest. I hope she feels thin, and nothing is bugging her, and that she doesn’t have any more doubts or worries. Only puppies and kisses and love. Because she deserves that.