…More Than Sweet Potatoes

The Truthful Truthiness of the Truth

Remember when I lied my ass off and was confusing and only half-honest with you guys?

Shit.  That’s kind of always…

Well, great news. FOR TODAY ONLY!  I am going to be honest and tell you what is really going on.

I recently lied to you guys in a game of 5 Truths and 1 Lie.  If you are super duper lame and didn’t read that post…it’s here.  And you should click on that link and read it first and then follow back to here (I put this link in that blog post at the bottom… I’m making this so easy on you guys.  You should probably thank me.)


Did you go do it?

Did you click the link above?

Did you guess which was the lie?

Okay then…moving along to the honesty…

SPOILER ALERT: Most of the things were true!**

As you may have read here, my sister and I are very close despite our 12 year age gap.  My parents and I used to take road trips to go visit her at college a couple times a year.  I’ve stayed in the dorms, in hotel rooms, in a sorority house, and in apartments.  I always wanted to spend as much time as possible with her.  One year my parents and I joined my sister and her sorority at a pizza and beer night.  Apparently said bar had a dance competition.  I remember very little about it because I was 8 years old and in a bar – so probably super drunk*** – but I got up on stage as fearless as an 8 year old can be and danced my little tushy off.  I did, in fact, compete for the title of Little Miss Brickhouse (to the tune of Brick House by The Commodores.  And, I did, in fact win.  So, option #6 – I was crowned “Little Miss Brickhouse” at the age of 8 at a bar in Georgia is true.


This exists… I’m almost angry I found it and shared it, but it needed to be done.

My senior year of college I moved out of my happy home with Dianne to move in with boys.  To this day, I am certain that place is haunted.  I wrote about it here and here.  Example 1: within a few weeks of me moving in, Jason was in the bar area when the ceiling lamp above him dropped and shattered on his head/shoulder.  Example 2: shortly after the ceiling incident, someone’s Motorola flip phone (I don’t know whose) was on the coffee table and, upon opening it, (LITERALLY, as it opened) the # 666-666-666 was on the screen.  Example 3: at least once when I was home alone I would go in the kitchen to find the cabinets open.  I do not leave cabinets open.  Ever.  There are more examples, but we made friends with our ghost and figured it was harmless so we’d just accept it.  Therefore, option #1 – I believed that I lived with a ghost for 5 months while in college is true.

My junior year of college was a mix of too many classes, psychology graduate research (I was quite the overachiever,) going out a lot and living in a 4 bedroom apartment – full of fun and friends always.  This was not the time to be having major issues with my laptop.  But if you know anything about Compaq, you know their customer service lacks heavily.  At least since they combined with HP.  But I digress, per usual.  After having them send me a new hard-drive, having my computer sent in and returned “good as new” and still having a non-working computer I did what any logical girl would do… I made sure my accidental damage protection was still active and confirmed that the only thing that wasn’t covered was flood damage…  And then I planned a party!  I had a large group of people over to throw my laptop off the 4th floor balcony (twice) and then take a hatchet to it.  I gathered all the pieces I could find and shipped it – along with the battery and identification stickers which I removed before the destruction – back to Compaq.  They sent me a brand new laptop (same model, in box, never opened) and I sold it for $700 (It was a $1200 computer,) took the money and bought a new/better one.  Ergo, option #4 – I committed insurance fraud by destroying my laptop and using “accident insurance” to have it replaced by a brand new laptop.  Which I then sold, is true as well.


Just about 5 years ago I was offered a job at a sports team in South Florida. I didn’t really know anyone.  I had nowhere to live.  I had no plans other than an extremely low paying job.  So, naturally, I took it.  Two weeks later my parents and I were on the biggest experimental road trip of my life.  6 large cardboard boxes of clothes/shoes/purses and toiletries/towels/sheets, a queen size air mattress, my parents and I got into a Hyundai.  We loaded my bike on the bike rack and headed south.  It took 2 days.  Day 1 landed us in Atlanta and Day 2 was spent mostly in the boring state of Florida.  I had wanted this explanation to be longer and more exciting.  It actually WAS very exciting because I was changing my whole world on a whim, but maybe you had to experience it with me…  Anyway, option #2 – I moved halfway across the country with only an air mattress, a bike, and 6 boxes packed into an SUV is also true.

Two Christmases ago I joined a friend of mine at his company’s Christmas party.  The party itself was actually 4 or 5 of the employees and their dates at an expensive dinner.  It was delicious and a lot of fun because I got to dress up and be fancy!  After we finished eating and drinking a good amount, the suggestion was made that we go downtown and go out.  We ended up at a piano bar and lounge.  I’m obsessed with piano bars.  I actually have a piano lounge player/singer who I have forced to be my friend (along with Erin… he likes us a lot.  Probably.)  Anyway… I am a piano bar snob.  I don’t like when people request generic piano bar crap and I also don’t like when people try to stump the musicians.  Worse?  When people don’t tip with their requests.  Allow me to dismount my high horse…there.  Good.  So when I sat down I immediately wrote a request for Scenes From An Italian Restaurant, folded it with a $5 and waited for my song.  The musician who read it asked who had requested the song, pointed me out, and referred to me as an example of how to be good at piano bars: be polite (I had written “please” and “thank you” on my request,) tip the musicians, and choose an awesome song.  Later, after a few more rockstar requests, one of the pianist asked me why I had chosen the songs I did which lead to a discussion about how I love the saxophone and request songs with it (when there is a sax player on stage) because I wish I could play it.  When he asked if I played piano and I mentioned that I do, he asked me to play in his place at the end of the night.  I did.  I was scared out of my mind.  I only played parts of a couple songs (because I never had the patience to learn the entirety of songs…) but I had never been so proud of myself for the use of my lady-balls.  So yeah, option #5 – I’ve performed as part of a Dueling Pianos show in a piano bar is the truth.

That’s our piano friend playing behind the scenes… 🙂

That just leaves the lie.

Are you following along?

It’s a doozy…

And I kind of cheated.

A little.

The lie is option #3 – My first time behind the wheel, I drove through my sister’s closed garage door.  The reason this is kind of cheating is that this DID in fact happen.  I absolutely was behind the wheel of my sister’s car.  I absolutely was under legal driving (or even learner permit) age.  I absolutely did hit the gas when I meant to hit the brake and drove into her garage door.  I got in a lot of trouble…but my sister actually got in more trouble for letting me drive.  My dad used a sledge hammer to knock the garage door back into shape so it could open and close via mechanism.

Are you thinking to yourself “This sounds like the truth?”

That’s because it is.

Except that it wasn’t my first time behind the wheel.  Nor was it my first time operating a vehicle.  Months before this unfortunate garage door accident, my friend (who was more than a year older than I) let me drive her car in an abandoned parking lot.  At 10pm.  In the winter.  In the snow.  It was really really stupid.  Worse is that shortly after I switched to the passenger seat and we left, we were followed and then pulled over by a police officer for breaking curfew.  We almost shit ourselves thinking he had seen me drive and was now going to give us both tickets.  He just told us to go home.  Anticlimactic end to the story…

So there you go.

That’s the truth.  The whole truth.

And nothing but the…actually, this post has a lie in it…

How’d you do?  Did you guess correctly?  Did you guess at all?  Did you even read all of this?!  It’s over 1,600 words.  If you read this whole thing, you’re a much better person than I.

**This is straight up math:  if 5 things are true and only one is a lie, most of this post will be truthful by nature.

***I was NOT super drunk.  I didn’t drink when I was 8 years old.  I had my first wine cooler when I was 15.  My first beer wasn’t until I was in college.


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This entry was posted on September 4, 2014 by in alcohol, learning about me, lying and tagged , , , , , , , .
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