Am I actually missing hospital?

I haven't been since Wednesday... So long... I think hospital is a bit like school. It's absolutely shit and boring and all you want to do is escape when you're there, but when you finally do you miss all the people and the wheelchairs and the needles. Ok, maybe not. Ssh. Quiet, you.

This lack of hospital means there is NO NEWS. Apart from the fact I am shit bored and want to go out but no one is free and blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I hate you all. I go in on Monday though, you lucky things. Then there will be news on my eyes and possibly my ovaries, depending if my vagina decides to bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed when it should. I feel sorry for anyone with a penis who is reading this. Did I mention I'm not allowed to use tampons? That is annoying. I am a rather big fan of tampons, ever since Jane Hogan gave them rave reviews. They catch blood in a most impressive fashion.

Also, heat is not good for cancer. I mean, being a goth in the heat is bad enough, but a cancerous goth? A cancerous goth whose room faces the sun all day long? That's just cruel. Downright cruel. Cancer cannot be sweated out. That is an urban myth. The rain and cold are beautiful, when I awoke to raindrops and storms I danced with joy! Until my legs started to break. Then I just danced with my arms...

I sense this blog post is not interesting. If you take away the cancer, then there is just a physics goth left... ARGH. NO CANCER TO REPORT. NEED MORE CANCER. Wait, no I don't. What I need is Polish weather, louder speakers to drown out the sound of my neighbour's mowing and Spock/Sheldon, naked in my bed. And now one of those songs has come on my laptop that makes me feel funky and pull faces and feel cool. Yeah man.

I suppose all I can talk about is my current emotions about cancer. Someone (Who will remain unnamed for security and Guatemalan reasons) sent me a message about a friend or relative who has recently been diagnosed with cancer (Trying to not give away who it is, haaaard), you will probably know who you are hopefully or I look a bit silly... It makes you realise cancer is everywhere. It will hit everyone, it's completely unavoidable. But having it makes it completely different. Well, to me. I have no idea how normal cancer patients feel, I think it's been established that I may well be the only person in history to call cancer "not that bad" and "quite fun really". I AM SO BAD AT HAVING CANCER. Why can't I hate it and stuff like real people? I think I think of it a bit like a pet... Pet cat. Killing the cat. Must not kill cats. Cats are cool. Not like dogs, they're stupid. Oh, I am shit at analogies today. And spelling, it would appear. And sentence order. I'm a scientist. Can't help it.

Blue Monday is a very good song.

I have lots of energy today. I am very very awake. And no one will meet up with me. I want Marc Stapleton. He does not want me. This makes me sad. And I feel bad asking people to do things in case they didn't want to really but I have cancer so they do. Stupid cancer. All my cool homies live miles away, like GAYHELEN and Richard and Nicky and all you Oxford biatches and London types. And the ones that live in a decent radius are on holiday or busy or gaaayyyyyyyyyyyy. Smelly. I will see Ice Age 3 withing the next week, even if I have to go alone. Alone, cancerous, and watching children's films like a paedo... (I'm trying to guilt anyone here... Anyone at all. Yoohoo!)..

I might be quiet now. This is a large amount of ramble designed to fill the cancer news shaped hole. Monday is the day. Keep your eyes peeled. Peeling an eye. Wouldn't that just leave the liquidy centre? Eyes are not oranges, says Oxford Scientist Constanze. Someone peel an eye for me please.

Speaking of biology...

Ooo, Ooo, Ooo. Special shout out to my favorite neighbour of all time, Danielle! Jesus, this sounds like a 90s kid's tv show. She sent me sweets, including THE MOST DEFORMED KINDER EGG IN THE WORLD. It had melted and become circular and flat, like a BLOOD CELL. It is an omen. Of what, I am not sure. Your blood contains plastic toys? Your blood tastes good to most women? My stem cells will come from Hungary? I got a hockey player doing a headstand. Beat that.

For now kids, that is all. More cancer, coming to a blog post near you soon!

xxxXxxxXxxxXXxxxXxXXXxXxxxXXxxxXxxxXxxx

P.s For no particular reason, I feel like sharing this love sonnet written about me with you all. It is by English Student and Sexy Lady Extrodonaire, Jane Elizabeth Hogan! We are lovers.

I love a beautiful girl called Constanze
and this makes me feel so lucky
that I should stumble across such a bonanza
even if she is rather booky
she's beautiful, fit, and extremely-tremely fine
she loves Russian novels and Physics
I'm so glad she's all mine
she has a fabulous, juicy, ('though rather large) bum
with wonderful hairless, shiny, pins
everytime she calls I'm willing to come
and if she wanted I'd empty all the bins
basically it is her that I love
she was given to me from the heavens above