Remember M.J.-5:00 p.m. Post

Tis done. We've said goodbye to Michael Jackson. I won't lie: I shed a few tears (when the rolled out the casket, when Lionel Richie hit the stage, during the first montage, and during the We Are the World/Heal the World medley, and of course when Paris spoke). The Memorial was, well, um bittersweet, and it wasn't because it was a memorial service either.

The ole guys, Lionel, Smokey, and Stevie, were professionals. They got on stage, bid their farewells, and quietly walked off. The newbies, Usher, Jennifer Hudson, and even Mariah and Brooke Shields, had my gall up. They had staged and rehearsed every "tear" and gesture to the heavens. You're right you guys, it is about you and not about the dearly departed. Whatever. I guess I should've expected it, but I didn't. The worst, though? Poor Jermaine. He couldn't even get the words right to Michael's favorite song, Smile. It was a travesty.

So, all in all, an okay service. Kinda glad I didn't hightail it to LaLaLand to be there. (Cause I totally could've with a 6-week old baby.) I bid you adieu, Michael. I hope you enjoyed your service, no matter how staged it was.