My mom and dad always told me to tell the truth.

That doesn’t mean I always listened.

For the most part, I am pretty honest.  It has gotten me into trouble, but most times, I firmly agree with the whole honesty is the best policy thing.

I had to go to the doctor for a yearly check up, or as I like to call it, an invasion of my privacy. Like… stop touching me, and don’t ask me about my life. I’m 24, I probably do all the things you are asking about on your little PhD question sheet. Let’s move on.

But before entering the room of shame where I am guilted into talking about all the bad things I do, they make you fill out a questionnaire about your ‘history.’  I looked it over and thought about how many times I actually tell the truth on these types of surveys… the answer: not very often.

So, instead of doing it honestly, I concocted a list of all the things that I lie about on a daily basis, and a little insight into my rationale/right to do so:

Working Out:  This is numero uno on the list.  I always lie about the last time I exercised.  Honestly, if someone doesn’t physically drag me by the hair, hands, legs, and feet to the gym, I will remain on my couch.  But, if someone good looking and in shape asks me what I do for activities, you best believe I’m talking about doing cardios, dumbells, yogalaties, mountain climbing, and P90X on a Sunday afternoon.  Gotta talk good to look good, ya hear?

Liking Food: Thanksgiving rolls around and everyone thinks they’re Martha Stewart.  Please do not try new recipes at Thanksgiving or Christmas, or any holiday that has the word TRADITION stamped across it. It’s called tradition for a reason.  I like apple pie, I don’t like apple pie with a fig tree growing out the center and a candy crust made of malt molasses.  My parents taught me to be polite though, so I’ll take a few bites and say it’s the bees knees – then promptly go eat an entire sleeve of Oreos to cleanse my pallet.

Last Time I Ate: I love food. I always look for snacks. So naturally, if I go out to lunch and 10 minutes later, someone asks me to meet them for an early dinner I am b-lining it straight to that destination.  I’ll walk in claiming I am starving and my parents are hoarding all the food in my house and I’m forced to result to hunter-gatherer tactics to nourish myself.

Height and Weight: My doctor REFUSES to allow me to think I’m 5’4.  Every time, it’s 5’3 and 7/8.  I’m 1/8th of an inch off? Not in my house. My hair air drying has the consistency akin to that of a prepubescent teenager, I know I got an eight of an inch in there somewhere. As for weight… don’t even ask me why I lie about that.

Time I Left: Ever heard the phrase, “Oh yeah, just left, I’ll be there in five.” Yeah, that actually means I’m still in bed, no pants on, with my retainer in my mouth.  I’ll hop in the shower and see you in half a day. But, don’t ever be late when I’m on time.  Heads. Will. Roll. 

Family History: Anything that I can lie about family history-wise on a survey that will give me something free, beneficial, or discounted, I am all for it.  My grandfather has twelve toes, my uncle breeds llama-donkey hybrids, I don’t care.  You think freegrocerycoupons.com is really going to run a background check to see whether or not I’m actually related to Michael Jordan?  Didn’t think so.  I’ll take my two free gallons of milk and a store brand poundcake be on my way.

Drinking/Smoking: I never drank until I was 21, and cigarettes are bad. This is/is not a lie.

Knowing What You’re Talking About: I like to talk.  If we’re in deep conversation and it transitions towards a topic that I don’t know anything about, I’m just gonna pretend I do.  I commit to it.  “Yeah, I’ve seen that show, season 1 was crazy! Remember when that guy did that thing… oh man! Had to close my eyes.”  Vagueness is the key to owning social situations.  You have to almost not know what you’re talking about to know what you’re talking about.  If you think about it, it makes sense.

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For real though, always tell the truth when you’re talking to police.  Lies will get you thrown into the slammer so fast, you’ll forget what day of the week it is and wind up thinking orange is actually a nice color to wear.