my eye cancer is cured.

I just took this picture of myself looking like a freakin' boy in my bathroom in the dark with the brightest flash so I could show you all that I don't have eye cancer.

Thank you to everyone who sent me emails, Facebook messages and hell, even joined this blogging service so that they could warn me that I was about to die. I somehow highly doubt that they offer chemotherapy at Planned Parenthood. Frankly, it would ruin the rest of my short life to think of the medical bills, so I really would just rather ride this shit out and start feeling really crazy one day and pass out and hit my head and die and have everyone find out that it was because of a tumor AFTER the fact because all we're going to do up until then is cry a lot and clip coupons.

I ask you to take this stance in to consideration when pondering whether or not to email me warning me that the new mole on my arm looks strange. I'm mental and I don't need you freaking me out. A stronger person would take it as concern and help, but I am weak and helpless when it comes to things like numbers, filling out paperwork, showing up to my chemo on time and remembering to take a million pills a day.