Anna Nicole -- Dead. Liz -- Strangely Saddened.

I really can't explain why I'm so sad about the death of Anna Nicole Smith. I always chose to believe that she was good at heart, that she married that 89 year-old dude because she was emotionally damaged and wanted a break from "men," not because she was a gold digging, leg-spreading whore. Perhaps I deluded myself. But I couldn't help but feel for her when her son died suddenly a few months back, only hours after her new daughter was born. I was happy for her when she said she was getting married to her longtime lawyer, Howard K. Stern.

Yes, you read it right. I was emotionally connected to Anna Nicole Smith. There might be something wrong with me.

It's odd. I've never lived in a world without Anna Nicole. Sure, I could say that about Gerald Ford, but did he ever have his own reality show? On which he made out with Margaret Cho and had his whole house decorated in pink and feathers by a man named Bobby Trendy? I think not.

I'm eager to hear the results of her autopsy. Was it TrimSpa that killed her? Had she gone back on drugs after the tragic death of her son? Did that 89 year-old sperm finally make it to her ovaries? Or maybe Bobby Trendy finally got his revenge for having to do eighteen versions of her bedroom in pepto and leopard print.

I'll say that the woman made an imprint on the world in her own unique way. Anna Nicole was a playboy model. She somehow got her own reality show, where she proceeded to make an unwitting ass of herself, and score dynamite ratings. She got clean, lost 70 pounds, and told everyone about it. She stood up in front of the supreme court, defended her position, and got the justices to rule in her favor. I think that the world is a little sadder without her, and certainly less interesting.