<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538</id><updated>2011-09-27T00:15:05.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Random Noodle</title><subtitle type='html'>Every day thoughts of the nerdy, weird and possibly retarded NoodleCakes.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-1204967242119571502</id><published>2011-06-10T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T13:43:20.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People Love To Share....</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Lately I have been thinking about how so many people love to share their life story with absolute strangers. I just don't get why people feel the need to talk your ear off about it when all you are doing is providing customer service or standing next to them in line at the store ext.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Don't get me wrong, I love talking to people and learning about them, but I don't need to know your personal problems unless we are friends. Sometimes I am completely shocked with the things that people decide to share with me and it takes everything I have to not laugh or make a face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I mean i know we have been taught to share things as we grow up, but freaking A man.....there are limits.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Half the time i'm afraid to ask how people are because on many occasions i've had people just bust out with their sob stories. Especially when i'm helping customers at my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hello, how are you today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Them: "OH GOD MY DOG DIED AND THEN MY GRANDMA WENT TO THE HOSPITAL AND I'M HAVING A HERPES OUTBREAK BLAH BLAH SOB SOB WHINE WHINE."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: 0_0.........sorry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEM: "Yeah and i'll take a large coffee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: 0_0......kay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;One of my most memorable stories about someone who just didn't know what shame was or the social &amp;nbsp;boundaries about talking about your vagina to a total stranger.&amp;nbsp;I was working at a little local pharmacy as a pharmacy clerk at the time and it was my last day working there. (No, I didn't get fired.) This woman, who was probably in her late 50's early 60's, came up to the counter and asked if I could show her where we kept the vitamin E oil. I politely left the counter and took her to the isle where we kept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: "Here you go mam. We have a bunch of different brands so i'm sure you'll find something you like.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMER: "Yeah thank you. I really need this stuff because my vagina is really dry and the doctor &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;said this will help."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: .......0_o...... &amp;gt;_&amp;lt;... ( &amp;lt;---thats a trying not to laugh face)....Oh....well...I hope this helps."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried turning away, but she kept going!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMER: "Yeah and my bladder keeps kinda falling out a little bit....Thats what you have to look forward to when you're old."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: @_@...."Well that sounds unfortunate.....If you need anything else just let me know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a beeline for the pharmacy counter and just barley made it to the back where I broke into uncontrollable laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now scarred for life from this story and now I have a phobia of getting old lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you are one of those people who like to share things like this....think again before doing so because you might just disturb someone so much they develop psychological problems. Learn a little self restraint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3 NoodleCakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If you comment on my posts and you know me, please don't post my real name. I know pretty much everyone of you know me, but for the sake of my entertainment... call me NoodleCakes. Kthanksbai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-1204967242119571502?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/1204967242119571502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/06/people-love-to-share.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/1204967242119571502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/1204967242119571502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/06/people-love-to-share.html' title='People Love To Share....'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-6964417265759310136</id><published>2011-05-21T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T14:16:58.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Insects</title><content type='html'>This post is more of an extension of one of my past entries about me being a huge crybaby chicken. Insects can be added to the list of things that freak me out. I can't help it!!!! Bugs are just so disgusting. They have those legs that are all.....long and leggy and they have fury or slimy bodies that wriggle around and are all....bug like. *shudders*&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;I have found myself in countless embarrassing situations that involve me flipping out over something as little as a moth. Just the other day I was in Maui with my best friend and a moth got into our room. The moment I saw it I pressed my back up against the wall as if I were going to melt into it and away from the nasty furry flying behemoth. It flew around for a while and finally landed on the wall across from me. I knew I couldn't let it continue to occupy the room while I was staying there. I knew if I did, it would crawl in my ear while I was sleeping and lay eggs in my brain. Soooo...I grabbed my sandal and ran across the room to smack it. Well, I missed of course because I am highly uncoordinated and it fell off the wall towards my face..... As this happened, I screamed at the top of my lungs as if someone was coming at me with a hacksaw and flung myself backwards, only to fall over a chair and onto my ass.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amanda found it pretty amusing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another time, I was driving on this winding road behind the high school going about 40 mph. I had the windows down and was rocking out to some sweet tunage. Everything was right in the world until i looked out the driver window. Hanging from a string of web was a little yellow spider. It looked hideous! Now since my windows were down, the wind started blowing the spider toward my face! So, like any logical person, I let go of the wheel and started screaming and slapping wildly at the spider so it wouldn't touch my face. Luckily it flew out the window and hopefully died, but when I looked up my car had drifted to the other side of the road. Thank god there were no oncoming cars.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you ever joke around with me about having a bug on me or near me...you'll probably get punched in the face cuz i'll be wildly flailing my limbs and screaming.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K bye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;lt;3 Noodle Cakes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-6964417265759310136?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/6964417265759310136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-hate-insects.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/6964417265759310136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/6964417265759310136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-hate-insects.html' title='I Hate Insects'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-2774786092666750597</id><published>2011-04-25T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T20:29:50.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Such a Chicken, You Can Cover Me In Shake n' Bake and Cook me in the Oven</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; My entire life I have always been a big giant chicken. I am paranoid and jumpy with everything. I would say that I am afraid of the dark, but its not as exclusive as that. I am just afraid period. Being by myself during the day is considerably better than at night, but I am still scared during the DAY. Yes you heard me....daytime.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; During the day I am more afraid of people trying to break in and kidnap me and at night its both people and "monsters." I ALWAYS feel like someone is watching me somehow and it creeps me out. Especially when i'm in darkness. I always feel like there is some ugly demonic face getting closer to mine as I sleep or walk across a dark room. I can't even take a shower or wash my face without having a mini panic attack.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I am so paranoid that while my eyes are clenched shut due to the soap covering my face, I am freaking out in my mind. I'm thinking that whatever it is, is using my vulnerability of having my eyesight temporarily disabled to sneak up on me and grab me. You all may think i'm ridiculous, but I now have a technique to washing my face so I can still see......I just wash one side of my face at a time so that one eye is still open. Crazy you say? You would think that, but your judgment will be short lived one you are getting attacked by a mutilated corpse that had risen from the dead to kill you!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I have always been like this, but the reason my fears got to the point of being out of control was because my wonderful dad and fantastic sister (I wish there was a sarcasm font) decided it would be fun to play off my fears of being murdered by ghosts, zombies, aliens etc. I was only five and my dad would hide under my bed and try and grab my feet as I got into bed, sending me screaming from my room and into his bed where he would suffer all night by me pretty much wedging myself between him and the mattress. They would scratch at my window in the middle of the night and tell me the scariest stories they could come up with. My sister even made me sit through the movies Leprechaun and Chucky, which I know are extremely corny, but to a five year old its terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It doesn't help that I have an extremely over-active imagination. I will NOT EVRRRRR watch scary movies. If I do I wont be able to function alone properly. I don't need movies to feed my psycho fear processing mind. I think of the most effed up scenarios and monsters on my own. At this very moment I am alone at home and I heard a noise at the front of the house and I keep glancing at my bedroom doorway, expecting a man with half his head blown off and no lips creeping into my room making nasty gurgling noises and licking his bloody teeth with a rotting black slimy tongue thats oozing puss. Yeah and he wants to kill me slowly and painfully. Good thing my demon fighting cat is here to protect me. God only knows what I would do without her.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; That being said.....I am going to go check that all my doors are locked and my windows are secure. I'm sure glad my fiance packed us a zombie apocalypse survival food pack. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Noodle Cakes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-2774786092666750597?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/2774786092666750597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-such-chicken-you-can-cover-me-in.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/2774786092666750597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/2774786092666750597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-such-chicken-you-can-cover-me-in.html' title='I&apos;m Such a Chicken, You Can Cover Me In Shake n&apos; Bake and Cook me in the Oven'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-8469723423944441217</id><published>2011-04-15T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T17:01:13.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Possible Top Gun lifestyle</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; So my fiance's little brother has just recently gone into the Air Force. He just finished his BMT (basic military training) and started his tech school. My finance went to go and visit him for his graduation from BMT and he loved it. He came home telling me that he is seriously considering joining the Air Force.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Now my initial thoughts of this was like an instant flash to the movie Top Gun. I pictured him flying around with his best friend who would be called Swan and he would end up getting an obsession for the song "Highway to the Danger Zone" and develop a rivalry with a guy named Frostbite. Then he would get drunk at bars and start singing, "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" and get some big haired blonde chick to fall in love with him and he would leave me. THHENNN Swan would die in a freak air accident and my fiance would get all depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; In reality though....i'm pretty sure that Swan would be named Fowl or something a little cooler. No really though I am actually kind of excited for him to join. I could travel the world with him and start a really interesting life. I know I would be lonely sometimes though. I think I could get through it though cuz &amp;nbsp;i'll try and make friends with the other wives on the base. I honestly think this would be good for him. He would be able to get his life going and he could be really successful if he tries hard and I know he would.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;OH MY GOSH and he would look FINNNEEEE in his uniform. That would be worth it all for me. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I hope to god that some of the women on base that I would make friends with will have no children. I did some of research to what its like being a military wife and read a bunch of blogs. It seems like its a freaking requirement for the women to be pregnant or already have a kid. It like "Oh you're going to join the military? Let me pop out a kid so I wont be lonely." I really hope I don't end up that way. Not that I don't want children, but I want my fiance to be there to help me raise the little beast.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Knowing me I'd be a crazy strict mother and my children would rue the day they act up. I will never let my children be like those kids that run around screaming and climbing on everything. I just can't handle it when parents let their kids act like little monsters. I don't know how they can handle it. The sound of a child screaming is like nails on a chalk board.&lt;br /&gt;***Yeah I know I sound like a wonderful mother, but i'm 21 so give me a break.***&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I think I am more excited about the whole career choice more than he is because I can't stop thinking about it. I just wish I hadn't bought my new house because I am just going to have to sell it again once we leave. I'll probably at least get a good year out of it though.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I really hope he decides to do this. I'll feel so lame writing a whole post on things that aren't going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayyyyyy.....bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3 Noodle Cakes&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-8469723423944441217?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/8469723423944441217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/possible-top-gun-lifestyle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/8469723423944441217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/8469723423944441217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/possible-top-gun-lifestyle.html' title='Possible Top Gun lifestyle'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-926615762781360135</id><published>2011-04-13T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T21:52:42.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My job is interesting....</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;So I got a job at a little coffee shop a few months ago in my hometown. Let me tell you that so far my experience working here has been.....well....for better lack of a word, interesting. The place is actually very nice to hang out and have a cup of coffee or a sandwich, but on occasion you run into some really weird people.&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed more and more, that crazy or just plain strange people, like to hang out at coffee joints. I really have no idea why, but they do. Of course not everyone is a crazy lunatic. Some of them are just obnoxious idiots that think they are funny, others are snobs or just super anal about everything. The other percent is made up of the "normal" everyday person.&lt;br /&gt;I want to smack half of the customers that walk in. I actually had a guy argue with me about my own heritage once.&lt;br /&gt;Customer: "You look like you have some Italian in you."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh, no, i'm not Italian. I'm half mexican and half white, so I can see how you might think that."&lt;br /&gt;Customer: "Hmmm no...there's definitely some Italian in there."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Ummm....no i'm pretty positive there isn't"&lt;br /&gt;Customer: "no, no...its there, I can see it."&lt;br /&gt;Amanda (my best friend who also works here): "I have Italian in me."&lt;br /&gt;The customer looks her over and then looks back at me.&lt;br /&gt;Customer: "hmm i dont know about that, but she definitely does."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you serious? Who fights with you about what you are.....plus I dye my freaking hair dark! I actually just look like a plain white girl with my natural hair color. Idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOOOOO....and the loomers!!! Holy crap I hate them! Loomers, as I call them are the ones that order and then stand at the counter and wait as if some coffee elf is under the counter, rapidly spewing out drinks so I can be like. "OMG here you go....your drink was made instantly as you ordered it!" and hand them their stupid drink. They will just stand there and watch me make their drink the entire time as if they are expecting me to be all, "MUAHAHAHAHAHA! I am putting rat poison in your drink because I have no moral standards and I hate you for no reason!" All they do is make me nervous and I make more mistakes. Just freaking sit down and be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah my work is a pretty fun place if you get past the weirdos....oh and the chairs... GOD I HATE THE CHAIRS! They are all mismatched and break all the time. We need new ones, but they just keep getting "repaired" until the next person sits on it and it crumbles beneath them. BESIDESSSS THAT...the coffee is fantastic and way cheaper than starbucks and the sandwiches are supppperrrr yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3 Noodle Cakes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-926615762781360135?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/926615762781360135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/white-rabbit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/926615762781360135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/926615762781360135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/white-rabbit.html' title='My job is interesting....'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8174676101787493538.post-724137109376381136</id><published>2011-04-12T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T21:37:52.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I am a hypochondriac....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; So this is my very first blog and I really don't know what to talk about so I thought maybe I would talk about how I am feeling right now....sick.... This isn't something new to me and I am pretty much used to it, but now I am starting to think that its all in my head. I know that certain illnesses I have are not completely fictional, but I really do get sick way too much and its always weird stuff too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Ever since I was a little girl I have been the weak little kid that had to be kept in a plastic bubble or I would get a cold, or some other random illness so bad that I thought my tiny little body would explode all over my dad who would give me every possible medicine we had in our cupboards thinking that by drugging me, i'd be better by morning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;*side note* I fucking hate Theraflu!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Now that I am older I think I trick myself into believing I have something so much that I start to feel symptoms. Or maybe I am just actually always sick. I have no clue, but my sister says that i need to watch that new movie Switched, because the little boy in it thinks he's always sick and uses web M.D. all the time like I do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I go from thinking I have fibromyalgia to my current thought that I have a tape worm. I'm half kidding when I say I think I have a tape worm, but there is this tiny thought in the back of my head that is making me think......its in there, with its nasty wormy body....wriggling....squirming....and eating my fucking food!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;*Hmmmm....I think I just described being pregnant. Maybe I should check that out too. =] *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The reason behind me thinking I have a tapeworm is because I have been eating HORRIBLE and still I am losing weight and I feel weak and my stomach feels like its going to implode in on itself. (I probably just have food poisoning) I like losing weight though so I think I am going to leave Scotch (thats what I named the tape worm) in there for just a little bit so I can look good for my Hawaii trip next month. Yeah good idea. I'm gonna stick with that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; So yeah, I probably am a hypochondriac and I will probably die of some weird illness. I used to think cancer, but thats too common. So its probably going to be something like&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Lymphangioleiomyomatosis. Its a rare lung disease that only happens in women from 20-40 years old and fewer than one out of a million people. Yeah i'm sure im going to get that....*cough cough* omg I have a pain in my chest right now. Yeah I definitely have that. ^ I am too lazy to type it out again or to copy and paste so THAT is what im calling it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;I hope I live to post another blog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;K bye.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;lt;3 Noodle Cakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;P.S. I know my spelling and grammar suck......get over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8174676101787493538-724137109376381136?l=dothenoodledance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/feeds/724137109376381136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-think-i-am-hypochondriac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/724137109376381136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8174676101787493538/posts/default/724137109376381136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dothenoodledance.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-think-i-am-hypochondriac.html' title='I think I am a hypochondriac....'/><author><name>Noodle Cakes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13302599030684619695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nq2DtP_bns8/TaUj5DycFhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzlWFq4GG_4/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B16.41%2B%25234.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
