A Lovely Shade of Grey

In my mind, a lie isn't really a lie unless it's a completely fabricated story, with little to no basis in reality.   Lies are different, then, from dramatic retellings of true stories, whose nature is entirely self-explanatory. I refuse to tell boring stories, so if I'm talking about something and it starts to sound a little dull, I make it better.  

It's like... anecdote pepper.  Or anecdote cumin, if I'm really aiming to weird people out. 

Nevertheless, I don't consider it lying.  Imagine my shock, then, when I learned that I'm actually different from the masses, who think that a lie is anything that doesn't strictly adhere to the facts. 

I was floored.  Not only have I possibly been WRONG about something (which I loathe,and try to convince people never, ever, ever, ever happens), but I suddenly have a LOT more lies to atone for.  Like, a LOT LOT LOT. I can't even remember the last time I told a story without a little saffron or basil.

For instance: my knuckles were bandaged while I worked today.  The bandages' true story goes something like this:

A couple of days ago,while making cupcakes in the cute pink cupcake maker Santa brought, I grazed my hand against the hot cupcake surface.  I put a Hello Kitty icepack over it that night, and it's mostly healed up. It's just bandaged now because I don't want it exposed to ER disgustingness. 

That story is super boring.  The only thing it provides is further evidence that I have the same taste in accouterments as a five-year-old ballerina.  Therefore, at work today, I paprika'd it up:

"Oh, yeah! It was so dumb, I was using my cupcake maker a couple nights ago, when my dog started barking at a raccoon on the back porch.  I jumped, and the lid shut down on my hand! It started blistering, so I ran out back and shoved my entire arm in the snow.  I stayed out there until I stared to go numb, and the whole time, that damn raccoon was just like, staring at me.  I think he was making fun of me, the little bastard.  Anyway, my hand's OK, but I'm keeping it covered up because I don't want it exposed to ER disgustingness."

See? No one gets bored during stories about cupcakes and evil raccoons.  And that is the truest thing I could ever say.