When I was a kid, I watched The Neverending Story. A lot of things about that movie fucked me up… like no one missing Bastian, and Artax drowning in sadness, Falcor having to rip Atreyu away from the same sadness that took Artax, but especially the Nothing.

I found the idea of NOTHING spreading over Fantastica/Fantasia to be nothing short of impossible to imagine. I mean when people think of emptiness, they think of black, but darkness is something. The only way I’ve really been able to grasp the idea of nothingness is through death. Death is admittedly something, but when you die everything you are becomes nothing…

Today I learned that a friend from high school overdosed and died. I don’t know if it was intentional or accidental, but the result is the same: he’s dead. We weren’t close, and I wouldn’t be so rude as to pretend that we were. I can’t tell you what he’s been up to or if he was involved with anyone. All I know is that when I knew him, he was a nice kid, and the people who knew him more recently seem to have really cared about him.

It’s weird when someone you’re aware of but not at all close to dies. When you’re close to the deceased you have feelings. You feel loss and hurt and longing. When it’s just someone you’re aware existed, it’s sad, but it doesn’t really hurt. There’s no hole in your chest where that person used to be, no regret that you never got to tell them something.

I, personally, just don’t know how you’re supposed to feel when someone you weren’t close to dies.I’m not empty of emotion. I’m sad about it, kind of. His absence now reminds me of the times we DID interact.

My favorite was in high school. I actually went to his house, with a group of friends. His parents were, and probably still are, loaded. We all jumped in his pool, and his mom didn’t even ask questions when he took a giant ball of wet black clothing up to the drier. We sat around in our underwear, wrapped in blankets, and watch The Exorcist, scaring ourselves and each other the best we could. I can’t remember why we there, since it wasn’t a place we usually hung out. Nothing nefarious or even PG-13 happened. We were just dumb kids and we had a nice time. I can’t even tell you why we were there instead of at one of our usual hangouts…

It’s weird that he doesn’t exist anymore, but there’s no emptiness associated with it. It’s like when celebrities die… you’re sad, but you know that in a couple of days you won’t really even think about it. In this case I feel bad I won’t think about it, though. He should be thought about. He was a person, and people deserve recognition.

So, I don’t know. I guess I just want to remember him.

So here’s to you Jared. You were a nice kid I once knew, and you seem to have touched a lot of people. I’m sorry you’re gone. I just hope that whatever happened, you were happy in life.

2016: The Dumpster Fire Of A Year In Which Everyone Died

Carrie Fisher died today.
Princess Leia is gone.

Here’s a list of people that died this year that had an impact on my life.

  • David Bowie
  • Alan Rickman
  • Mohammed Ali
  • Zha Zha Gabor
  • George Michael
  • Prince
  • Florence Henderson
  • Gene Wilder
  • Merle Haggard
  • John Glenn
  • Anton Yelchin
  • Leonard Cohen
  • Kenny Baker (R2D2)
  • Harper Lee
  • Ron Glass
  • Gloria DeHaven
  • Doris Roberts
  • Abe Vigoda
  • Alan Thicke
  • and of course, Carrie Fisher

This is but a fraction of the celebrity deaths this year, each one adding a little more sadness to the year.

Emotionally, it’s been a hard year.
We have four days left, and to be honest, I’m just hoping that no one else dies.


Danny’s Memorial Show

The line for Danny’s Memorial Show.

Somehow, within just a week, a good friend of Danny’s put together a show to celebrate his life. I honestly can’t think of a better way to celebrate a great musician and a great man. 

I’m here now, leaning up against a wall on the smoking patio, just watching. It’s a weird atmosphere. I dunno what I expected. I’m not good at emotions, and I’m definitely not good with death, so my reactions are mixed. Still it’s fascinating to see a packed venue full of people that a person touched and how they’re taking it. I’ve seen crying, which was expected, but I’ve seen laughing. There have been hugs and drinks, smiles and distant stares.

It’s amazing how many people are here, even people I haven’t seen at a show in years. It just makes me wonder if Danny knew how many people he managed to touch, how many people have great stories about him, how many people are going to miss him.

I find grief interesting in the sense that people don’t often cry for the lost. More often they cry for the piece of their lives they lost. That’s ok. It’s not an inappropriate emotion in times of crisis. You can’t always differentiate between the two, especially when that person was such a big part of your life. 

Danny was not a major part of my life, and I’m sad about that. He was such a good person, and I wish that I’d known him better. You can feel the way he touched every life and how important he was to some people here. 

My friend Hannah’s band is playing tonight, and she was close to Danny. In spite of how strong she can appear, she’s hurting a lot. A lot of people have turned to her for support, and it seems like it’s taking a toll on her a bit. I hope the show is therapeutic  for her. She and and her husband brought every piece of Danny’s discography that they had, going back years to his first demo. I wish they’d sell copies… I’d buy one. 

Danny’s best friend and band mate is here, along with the rest of the band. He seems okay, but I know better than to believe appearances. I haven’t spoken to him yet, and I don’t know if I will. I’m not good at what to say to the grieving. 

The Denver music scene lost a good friend last weekend. And all you need for proof of that is to ask anyone here. Laughing, crying, drinking, or blogging via phone, we all felt Danny’s passing. I can only hope that with this loss someone out there might realize they have touched more people than they could ever know, and that they are cared about.

Scarlet Canary – Hannah’s Band. Look up their song Blink. Tonight will be the last time they ever play it live… and it’s worth hearing.

My Friend Danny

I want to tell you about my friend Danny.

I met Danny a couple years back at a show my friends were playing. I love local concerts, and Danny’s band, Resonance, was awesome. My first impression of him was that he was very hot. My second impression of him was that he also very nice, very friendly, and probably a really good guy. That opinion of him has never changed.

Danny is the kind of person that could make you feel important, even if you most certainly are not, especially if he sees you at a show. Danny loves his fans. He keeps in touch with them personally, knows them by name and face, makes a point of telling them how much he appreciates them coming out to a show, and even goes out of his way to personally invite people to shows.

Resonance turned into My Own Iris not too long ago. I went to their album release show. The build up to the album release show was brutal. We were on perpetual countdown on Facebook, and I was so hyped to go. I was not disappointed. It was a great time. They put on a great show, as always, and I left tired but happy. Danny was so excited to see me there, just like always.

My favorite thing about Danny is how when he sees people he knows, whether he’s met you once or a hundred time, his face lights up. He has the best smile.

Over the weekend, Danny killed himself.

I’m not claiming to know Danny intimately.
I couldn’t tell you his favorite band, color, or coffee drink.
We weren’t close friends that told each other everything.
But Danny touched my life, as he did so many lives.

This Sunday is a memorial concert for him. His friends in the local music scene put together faster than I’ve ever seen someone put together a show. Donations are the only fee, to help the family, and prolly to pay the venue since that definitely isn’t free… although if a venue were to throw a free show, it would be Hermann’s.

I don’t know how I feel about it all. Yeah, I’m sad for Danny, because he was a good guy and no one knew that he was in pain, but like… he outran whatever he was running from. I like to think that means he found some peace, even if makes me sad.

Also, as someone that thinks about suicide SO REGULARLY it’s always weird to me when someone I know does it. Like… why didn’t I? What was worse for them? What’s supposedly better for me? I dunno, but it’s a weird feeling. Like regret, but not.

Danny will live on forever for me through his music. It always spoke to me.
If you’re interested, here are some links.

My Own Iris Facebook

My Own Iris Website

My Own Iris YouTube Channel

My Own Iris Twitter

I’ll Miss You Danny.
I hope you found your peace.


My Grandmother: Weird Sentimental

It’s weird what will suddenly remind you someone.

When I was a kid, my grandmother didn’t bake cookies. She didn’t knit. She didn’t kiss boo boos. She didn’t give me sweaters at Christmas that had to wear just because she bought them. My grandmother could not have been in a Hallmark movie. My grandmother wasn’t even that good of a cook.

I touched briefly on my grandmother back on her birthday; the highlight of that being that she was a robot from outer space sent here to take me away from my mother. She was a trip. Why she decided that I needed to be wary of her, I dunno, but in our weird little dysfunctional way, we were very happy.

I remember less about her than I like to admit.

  • She always drank that Folgers instant coffee, that was like coffee crystal granule things
    • She always took it with milk. Not cream. Not sugar.
  • She was fat
    • She loved pecan pie
    • She loved fried chicken
      • Coincidentally the only thing she could really cook
      • She’d eat pretty much fried anything
      • She was the kind of person to clean a bone
        • Then gnaw on it
        • Then crack it open and suck the marrow out
          • It was as gross as it sounds
  • She was from Mobile, AL
  • She loved lighthouses
  • She had an old sewing machine in her bedroom, but I never saw her use it
    • Mom said she was good at sewing, and even taught my mom to sew
    • Her bedroom was always cluttered up and jumbled
    • I think she was a little bit hoarder, probably caused by late-life depression
      • This strolls casually through my family, getting to know them all personally and intimately
        • Remind me to tell you about my uncle someday
  • She lived in a trailer
  • She chain smoked until my mom made her quit when she got emphysema
    • We were convinced that she was going to blow herself up, trying to smoke while on oxygen
  • She had these gnarled up fingers from arthritis
    • And these long ass nails she’d dig into your arm if you disagreed with her

Yes. My grandmother was a trip. Irregular. I thought she was narcoleptic for like my whole life, because she would fall asleep in the middle of conversations, and TV shows, and anything. Turns out, when I was a teenager, my mom figured out they had some of her meds up WAY TOO HIGH and once that got adjusted she was conscious. All the time. It was weird.

Anyways, what reminded me of Lois today, was this.

When I was a kid, Lois had a lamp. It was a scene of a geisha, and one day we made her a caged bird. I didn’t know, until that day, that my grandma was talented. She made this tiny bird, in a cage made of toothpicks. Very delicate work. Turns out that when my mom was a kid, Lois helped her make dollhouse things all the time. They couldn’t buy them, so Lois made them. It was cute.

I miss my grandma. We were talking about her yesterday, because someone was talking about cancer. Cancer is another thing that strolls casually through my family, infecting us all. Sad, really.

Anyways… I miss my grandmother. She was cold, little mean, cackled like a witch… and I feel like I emulate her quite nicely. I hope she would enjoy the person I’ve grown up to be.

How I Coped With my Potential Cancer.

If you missed my previous post, I might have breast cancer.

So how does one cope with a potentially fatal illness at 25?
Not well… Well, actually, I don’t know how other people cope with this sort of thing, but I decided to lose my mind.

Friday morning I found out I have beads of doom in my boob, so Friday night I drank. A lot. I started with a Long Island iced tea, which was pretty clear, tasted awful, and opened the door to drinking more vodka, doing a red headed slut shot, and a tuaca shot. Then, when I was already drunk, and my memory gets hazy, I did something I never do: I accepted things from Charles.

You may be wondering why that is so rare… It’s because Charles is pretty much a frat boy without a fraternity, and anything he hands you could ruin your night. Pills, pot, drinks… You accept nothing from Charles, but I did…

So after getting some Afghani strain in my system, I blacked out worse, and my bestie had to drive my twisted ass home.

The whole night is just flashes. I know I cried at the bestie and a KJ. I know the flower guy that does rounds to the bars every night said a prayer for me. I know that some girl reassured me that she went through the same thing and it was nothing. I don’t know much else.

Waking up this morning, I thought I would feel like shit. I was oddly perfect. I was even in high spirits. I discovered that I’d eaten a whole jar of pickles… Is that the secret to a hangoverless night? And yes, I know hangoverless is not a word.

Tonight, I went out again, for a friend’s birthday. He and his totally non-serious cover band played. For whatever reason, I’m blaming the lack of birth control, I’m extremely into this guy today. So, I slut myself up a little (as much as a fat girl can without looking desperate) and went, I got to say maybe three words to him.

I did get Voodoo Doughnuts, though, as the bestie went and stood in line for two god damn hours for them earlier in the day. This guy, who I vaguely know, was so excited to get one that he could have been an antidepressant commercial.


It was fun to go out. Lots of my music scene acquaintances came out, so they had guest singers and players.

For instance… This is what NSync’s Bye Bye Bye looked like.


Still, coming home alone is pretty crap.

I’m sad… Maybe because I’m just bipolar… But who can say.