I'm not going to talk about Kurt Cobain.

It has come to my attention that it is the 10th anniversary of his death. Suicide always makes me sad, but his really didn't. This has, however, nothing to do with him.

About a week before his death, a friend of mine, J, had an abnormal pap smear. Having now been through this myself, it doesn't really seem like that big a deal. However, at the time I had very little knowledge of how common this is; she also had some family health issues and was, er, a little promiscuous. She went in for further testing a day or two before his body was found. On the day, I was out doing something-or-other, and got back to my dad's house to find frantic messages from both J and my mother (whose message told me to call J immediately). I assumed that the new tests had found something seriously wrong with her. I was in a horrible panic when I called her back. She was crying, and told me...Kurt Cobain killed himself.

I was so fucking relieved that I still can't bring myself to really give a crap. It sucks that his daughter doesn't have a father in her life. It sucks that he was so depressed. The whole damn thing sucks. But in the context of my life, it meant nothing.