Pants On Fire

No this post isn’t about me being horny. If you thought this was the case, shame on you. Tsk, tsk.

Not really. I’d probably write a post about that to be honest. Just not today. Today’s topic is about me being really bad at lying.

Lying is a complete no go in my book. It’s against my code of conduct. I don’t believe in white lies. I think all forms of lying are destructive, even if yes, you’re just telling someone “Those jeans don’t make you look fat.”  I think there are ways of getting around not hurting people’s feelings if you’re clever enough, and I think the effort it would take to retain a zero tolerance policy for lying would be worth it.

Deception is the root of so much betrayal, pain, and miscommunication in relationships that I’m not willing to compromise on that front as a general practice. Even just a teensy bit. Because a teensy bit makes way for a tiny bit, and tiny bit for just a little, and next thing you know you’re lying every other word. Okay, maybe it’s not that much of a slippery slope but still. My point is, I don’t like lying.

That’s not to say I’ve never lied. We all do. I think humanity’s forte is lying to themselves, but that’s a whole other post altogether. I try to keep lying at an absolute minimum.

This being the case, when my best friend Marcy put me in the position to have to pretend I was auditing a class when really I just wanted to compare my undergrad schooling to what was considered to be a master’s class, I froze. I was the one who had asked to tag along in the first place, but I didn’t realize she’d spin the auditing angle rather than just flat out saying I wanted to visit once. I mean, I understand why she did it. University isn’t free, so it’d be kind of pretentious for me to ask to sit in on the class with zero potential to benefit the college in the long run. It wasn’t even a big deal. I mean define auditing. Technically, I was auditing, right? I was scoping out what grad school looked like, so in some unbelievably unlikely universe I’d fall in love with the program and shell out thousands of dollars to go back to school and learn things I can easily learn through experience and personal research.

So the reason for my temporary existence in that course (with a ridiculously small class size of four students) wasn’t a complete ruse.  It wasn’t a flat out lie. I should’ve been able to gel with it, right?

Wrong. The alarm bells of my hypersensitive conscience were going “Wee-oo, wee-oo! Get out of there, you heathen! Don’t compromise your morals!”

And as super reasonable and not over the top as that reaction was, it was kind of late for that. Class was about to begin when this bomb was dropped on me nonchalantly.

Oh, by the way, I told my prof you’re auditing,” Marcy said.

Wait, say what? said my conscience.

“What does that encompass exactly?” said my mouth.

She mumbled something along the lines of “Ya know, like you’re interested in the university and are trying out the class.”

Wait, wha? But there’s no possibility of me actually going here. One, it’s really far from where I’m currently living, and two, I have no interest in “furthering my higher education” at the current time. So basically I’m gonna have to lie my way through this.

“Uh…”

And of course lickety split quick after that dawned on me, some ladies who had come in to judge the merit of the class came over to start questioning the students. Naturally they assumed I was a student, and the class, being so unbelievably small, of course my turn came to be questioned. When I say I exhibited my highest derp potential, I mean it. I was next level idiot in this moment in my life. Because I couldn’t even bring myself to say I was auditing when they assumed I was a full time student that Marcy had to do it for me.

“She’s auditing,” she explained after I stumbled over my words for about five seconds straight.

“Ohhh, I see. What’s your interest in this course? What are you currently doing in education?”

“Um, I’m a teacher too.

“Oh, okay. That’s great! Where do you teach?”

At this point I awkwardly looked over at Marcy like: Help me! What do I do? Should I tell the truth that I live hundred of miles away? But then she’ll realize the unlikeliness of me truly auditing this class. I mean it’s possible I guess. Maybe I intend on moving…But that’s not actually true! What if she asks me directly?! I’m not gonna say yes. Wee-oo! wee-oo!

I kid you not. I took so long to answer that Marcy had to verbally nudge me, “Tell her,” she said encouragingly.

It was like I was a little kid looking to her mother for reassurance that it was okay to talk to a stranger.

“Uh, I teach in Pala.”

“Ohhh, okay. Where is that?”

“Um, yeah. Not a lot of people have heard of it.”

“So where exactly?”

I then repeated the city name as if that cleared things up. I wasn’t going to answer her question for hope I wouldn’t have to reveal how far I actually was, but everyone was staring at me like I was an idiot. Which I definitely was being. I’m sure at this point they were wondering if I was actually a teacher. This chick’s too dumb to teach…

“In Florida,” I caved.

“Ohh, okay. So you’re visiting from far away.”

Yes, yes! That’s it! At last, the truth! Yes, I’m only visiting! I’m sorry for being an imposter!

Of course, outwardly, I only nodded my head. I kept looking between Marcy and these ladies throughout the conversation. I’m sure it must have looked like she was my pimp or something. I was desperately glancing at her for permission and approval, my own mind having abandoned me.

Luckily they turned the subject toward Marcy after a few questions about my classroom (probably in an attempt to verify I was actually a teacher). That was definitely one of my more embarrassing experiences. My logic on expertly dodging subjects had failed me. I’m usually pretty good at that.

Moral of the story: Never ask me to lie on the spot. I may act like an idiot, and you may want to disown me as someone you know.

 

~LDA

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Prying Eyes and Warrior Cries

Super Smash Bros. Brawl, guys. 

It’s a great game.

SO great a game that it sometimes finds itself worming its way into my daily life in silly and awkward ways. 

For those of you who have never played the game, it’s basically a fighting game created for all characters Nintendo to battle against each other in.

For those of you who have played the game, (or any Zelda games) you know that there is a character named Link who makes these wickedly overexaggerated fighting grunts that sound something like “Hya-aa!” when he does moves like this.

These battle cries sound completely cool in the context of a fighting video game. 

Not so much in regular daily life. 

I’m weird, okay?  And sometimes I let my imagination get mixed in with reality a little too much which ends up having me get caught doing ridiculous things quite often.  One of the ridiculous things I like to do when no one is looking is (or listening) is utter a Link-sounding battle cry when I’m doing mundane things. 

Let’s say I’m lifting a heavy box or something.  In order to make the experience a more fun one, I’ll go “Hya-aa!” as I stumble across the room.  I mean, if you’re gonna be forced to physically exert yourself, you might as well sound like a warrior doing it, right?

Scrubbing at a plate with a particularly stubborn piece of food stuck on it?  “Hya-aa!”

In the kitchen chopping an onion with tears pouring down my face?  “Hya-aa!”

Kicking open a door because my hands are full?  “Hya-aa!” 

I find it makes the boring things of life a lot more exciting and entertaining.

It was this last thing that I was doing (opening the door with no hands) when I found myself in a laughable predicament:

So the first thing you have to understand is I’m a low-profile germophobe. I don’t like touching hotel tv remotes, letting people borrow things that go near my face (like my phone or earbuds), using restaurant utensils, or touching doorknobs.  Also, I cringe inside when someone reaches out to shake my hand because it’s one of the dirtiest and most bacteria infested parts of our bodies.  Who decided we should greet each other that way? (I mean seriously, why can’t we just take a hint from other countries and bow in introductory settings instead?!  ToT)

Anyway, now that I think about.  You guys didn’t really need that little insight into my twisted, tormented mind.  Kicking open bathroom doors is something most average people do, right?  Because the immediate location of a bathroom reminds us how dirty our grimy little grabbing appendages really are.  At least for a second.

So picture this.

I’ve just finished washing my hands in the single stall bathroom at my workplace.  I’m desperately trying to keep my hands in the heavenly stage of antibacterial clean by manipulating water faucets with paper towels and leaning as far away as possible from the toilet area because it has just released thousands of microscopic toilet water droplets into the air.  I’ve finished wiping my hands dry, but committed the deadly sin of throwing it away before using it to push the door open.

So what’s my only option?

To kick the door open, of course.

And what a better time to utter Link battle cry than when kicking a door open? 

So, I did.

“Hyaa-ah!” I whisper shout, with eyes squinted shut and everything.

And of course, with my luck, there was someone standing on the other side of it.  Even though there isn’t like 90% of the time.

 

A surprised wide eyed look when I realize someone has seen me.

A questioning look from the person looking on.

My awkward chuckle.  “Oh…he-he…hey.”

 

Luckily, the woman who caught me laughed it off.  Also luckily, it wasn’t my boss.  Haha.  Can you imagine how exponentially more embarrassing that would have been?

You’d think that after being caught in the act that I’d limit dorky warrior cries to home, but I still do it in public when no one is watching sometimes.  What can I say?

Once a derp, always a derp. 

I’m even doing it as I press the button to publish this post.  ;P

~LDA

 

 

 

The Dream Universe

So I’m one of those derps who’ve decided that they want to learn how to speak Japanese just because of the sheer amount of Japanese language input they’ve received from watching so much anime.

Except, I’m not one of those unmotivated people who learn how to say “kawaii” and how to stick a “desu ne” in the correct place and then abandon ship.  I’m really determined and am being awarded for my efforts by understanding more and more of what I listen to, (both in anime and music).

Anyway, the only reason I bring this up is because I find that this new language acquisition has reached the point where it’s affecting my dream universe.

Each and every one of us has a dream universe tailored to their specific subconscious that picks up signals and images throughout their entire waking day and then plucks and chooses which details it wants to reincorporate into dreams.  These reincorporated signals become our personal”dreamscape.” 

I read somewhere once that everyone you see in your dreams are people you’ve seen in your waking life.  That no face you come across in your dreamscape is not a person that you perceived while you were awake, whether consciously or just on a subconscious level out of the corner of your eye.  Now, I don’t know whether that really is a statement of fact or not, but I think it’s a really interesting thought to entertain nonetheless.

It makes enough sense.  Our brains, (even the most creative ones of us), are not as innovative as we might wish to think they are.  A lot of what we come up with (if not all) are just a conglomeration of signals that our brains have somehow made connections between and re-outputted.  The most creative ideas come from a combination of two unrelated things that have now come to be related.

For example: 

tweeting birds + social media = twittter

AND

cannibalism + giants with freaky faces + cool fighting gear = Shingeki no Kyojin (AKA Attack on Titan)

AND

giant talking turtles + Italian plumbers + bromance = every Super Mario Bros. game ever made

It’s a good system that has churned out a lot of awesome stuff. Our dreamscapes are constructed in a similar way, throwing stuff together in cool and/or weird ways and calling it imagination. 

Last night, a new thing happened in my dreamscape that I found really amusing once I figured out what was going on.

I was derping around, going about some unimportant task that I can’t remember when everyone started speaking to me in Japanese.  So…everything was cool, everyone was speaking English and helping me go about my business, I was just about to solve some crucial problem, and then all of a sudden, all these Japanese phrases were being spit out at me.

Confusing much?

I was like, “Ohmigrob, ohmigrod, ohmiglob.  Why is everyone speaking to me in Japanese all of a sudden?!”  After I stopped freaking out I told myself.  “No, wait.  I can do this.  I got this!  I’m barely at an intermediate Japanese proficiency level, but I should be able to understand at least some of what they’re saying.”

Being the ‘dream turned nightmare’ that it was, they of course were all speaking to me at the same time which only compounded my frustration.

“Why can’t I understand anything?!  All I can understand are a particle or two and a few words here and there!  Oh man, all of my studies have been in VAAAAIIIN!” I thought, pulling out tufts of hair and letting my knees dramatically hit the floor.

Then, suddenly, one of those wonderfully magical things happened and it became a lucid dream. 

“Heyyy, waaiit aaaa minute. This is a dream, isn’t it?   Which means…that everything going on in here is only a product of what my mind already knows.”  A smile spread across my face.

“Which means…”

Having calmed down and logic-ed everything out, I listened to the people spouting Japanese at me more closely.

Turns out they weren’t really speaking Japanese at all.  Well, they were speaking some Japanese, but the rest was just gibberish!  Since I’m not at all at a fluent level of Japanese yet, my brain was filling in the gaps of speech between words with gibberish since it didn’t know what else to do.  I was freaking out about not understanding but I couldn’t have no matter how hard I tried because neither did my brain!  

How’s that for inception?

Of course, once I realized this, the magic of my subconscious was disrupted and I woke up laughing like a hysterical idiot.  Dreamscapes don’t take kindly to being figured out so they often kick people out of lucid dreams pretty quickly.

This dream was one of the funnier, quirkier dreams I’ve had in a long time so I thought I’d share.

What about you?  Have you ever had any lucid dreams?  Tell me about them in the comments. 🙂

~LDA