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// she's only happy in the sun.
Jan 10

liar, liar, pants on fire.

sometimes when i share my adventures i might add a teensy bit of um, let’s call it ‘jazz hands’ to the story. some people might call this LYING. and i call those people BAD STORY TELLERS.  in fact, if you are going to tell a story i’d actually prefer you pepper it with a few hyperbolic statements here and there just to keep the momentum going. after all i have the attention span of a gnat. gnat starts with a silent ‘g’ so it’s on my list of ‘words i loathe for no good reason, other than they start with a silent “g”‘.

see how i did that? i don’t ACTUALLY have the attention span of a gnat (although who really knows what kind of attention span a gnat has?) but i said it nonetheless and hope that you will forgive me for my LIES.

but the thing is, even i have a limit when it comes to everyday dramatic speech. and i think i’ve found my threshold in 16-year-old-girl-talk. i’m actually not exaggerating when i say that at least twice an hour my sister and her friends will EXCLAIM (in between gasps for oxygen):

‘”omigod i.can’t.actually.breathe.right.now”.

the first time i heard this i thought my sister actually couldn’t breathe and was having an asthma attack. but i quickly realized that she’d just seen some shoes she liked and this was just her way of saying “wow. i really like those shoes”.

and then i was schooled in the application of this brilliant one liner.
in love? surprised? scared? amazed? horrified? bored? devastated? ecstatic?
just blurt out “OMIGOD. i can’t breathe”. it fits. every time.

in conclusion, i love my sister, but teenagers scare me.

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3 comments on “liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  1. Ladan Says:

    I agree. Never let accuracy get in the way of a good story.

  2. montague Says:

    sweetness, teenagers ARE scary. there is no way around that fact.

  3. Q Says:

    i call them BAD STORY TELLERS…

    omigod. SO. true.

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