Freshman year of college, I found myself confronted with Pride & Prejudice for the second time. Once again, I didn't actually read it, but figured it wouldn't be too difficult to BS my way through the class discussions. And term paper.
I was wrong. As it turns out, one of the many differences between college and junior high is that in college, you're actually expected to expound on themes and deeper symbolism, neither of which were covered by the BBC. I spent most of the class time nodding along and making assentive noises.
Also: assentive isn't a word, but it really needs to be. Someone call Webster's, kplzthnx.
But back to the story (and the ensuing lie): one day, for no discernible reason, I informed the class that around page 85, Jane Austen "totally paragalizes the point."
That's right: PARAGALIZE. I was met with blank stares and arched eyebrows. My teacher, bless him, tried to guess what I meant. Unfortunately, we all soon realized that I meant absolutely nothing. That's when the professor shut me up for awhile:
"Ashlea, you were just talking to make noise. Let's move on."
Just Talking To Make Noise is an excellent reason to lie. More often than not, my noise-lies take the form of ridiculous platitudes and superstitions, i.e.:
-Windy February means that the spring flowers will be brighter.
-Babies born near holidays learn to talk before other babies.
-Small teeth mean emotional immaturity.
-People who bite their lips are good kissers.
-Flexing your toes before you get up in the morning keeps you from making too many mistakes that day.
Understandably, people don't usually know how to respond to my "sayings." Once again, I find myself met with blanks stares and arched eyebrows. To cover, I revert to what is, in my awesome opinion, the best excuse I know:
My mom says that like, ALL THE TIME.
Just like that, the blanks stares turn into nods and "Aahhhhs" of approval and acceptance. Then, people have little kernels to pass on to their children and grandchildren, and my weird-ass sayings actually become Things.
The only time one of my Things ever went past the "My mom says" stage was a few months ago, when I was talking to a guy in front of some of my friends. I'm still not sure what the guy's deal was, but I didn't like the vibe he gave off. And my friends were oblivious to the vibe, couldn't understand why I blew him off, and wouldn't accept the "he's too short" excuse (apparently, 5'2" girls aren't allowed to use that one).
So, I explained that he had wrinkles on the back of his neck, and, according to my mother, "neck wrinkles mean a guy is like, way aggressive, and has a lot of anger management issues."
For once, the response was an enlightened "Aahhhh!" and an "Oh yeah, I think I've heard that one before! It's like, basic phrenology." Yes, my friends talk about phrenology. This is why they're my friends.
There are two morals to this story. Firstly, talking just to make noise, like lying, can be embarrassing occasionally. It's rare, but it happens. Secondly, if you're running out of excuses to not go out with a guy, the neck wrinkles thing works every single time.
And in the name of full disclosure, I can't remember most of the noise-lies I've told. I made up most of them, except the neck wrinkles one, as I typed. And I think I've only had one conversation, ever, about phrenology. SORRY FOR LYING.
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