On Telling Lies

I've mentioned before that I am an atrocious liar. Even as a child, if I did something, I was physically unable to worm my way out with a series of untruths. I learned from a very early age that if I did something bad, wrong or accidentally, I just admitted it and took whatever was coming to me.

As an adult, this has gotten no different, and anyone that has met me will attest, if I try to tell a fib, it's obvious. If it's nothing major - stealing Jo's food, for example - I will deny it but be chuckling away. If I've thrown something out that it turns out Jo needed and she says "Does anyone know where such-and-such item is?" and she's not a happy bunny, I might try saying "No dear, I have no recollection of such a thing" but will sound like a goofy, special school reject.

I might as well have a big illuminated arrow on my head.

People in positions of authority make me nervous too - probably because my dad was a police man - but if an official questions me, I must look like a liar because I squirm, I fidget, I can't make eye contact. If ever I am wrongly accused of something, I'll probably end up in jail because I look guilty.

I suppose it's my upbringing. Me and Gemma were always told "If you tell the truth right away, you won't get in trouble" which, it turns out is a blatant lie. None the less, lying and "bending the truth" is something that drives me mental. I don't have time for it, I can't be arsed with it, and I will always tell it like it is.

Which I think is why when I find out people have been lying to me - and bending the truth is still a lie, FYI - and making shit up and generally giving me the run around pisses me off. I know I can play the dummy in order to lull people into a false sense of security, but I'm not quite as silly as people seem to think. Especially when one person is telling me one thing, with proof to back it up.

If you're going to lie to me, at least tell me I'm pretty. I don't have time for the rest of the crap.