Seeker of Happiness

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"Friday Fibs"

Friday Fibs Part 9

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn3 Comments

Well, this is going to be my last Friday Fib of my own. I love hearing these stories from other people, though and would love to keep this weekly feature going. If you have a story about telling a fib, PLEASE email it to me at cuzitsfunny@hotmail.com and I will feature it (unless it's gross or wildly inappropriate).

This last story is all the way back from 2005. It was after this experience that I had resolved to be more honest. Just a few clarifying points: The biology class I was taking was "Field Biology" which meant we spent one class a week in lecture, and the rest of the classes outside. Also, I went to an LDS University where we called our professors "Brothers" and "Sisters" rather than professor.

Summer 2005

Dear Brother Wall,

So there I was, all ready for a new block in my summer semester. What was I going to lie about in my classes this time? In my winter classes, I introduced myself as "Tim" and I still hear that name shouted in my direction across campus. Last block a girl asked me about a scar on my foot and I told her I had a tumor removed. She believed me. So this block I was thinking: "exactly how far can I go with some of my stories?" It's not that I lie about important things. Mostly just weird things that I think I'll get some sort of sick kick out people's reactions. I usually end up telling the truth in the end.

I was thinking about what I was going to do next. I remembered when I went out to eat and pretended I was from Italy with some unknown accent. Italy was too well known for that accent. So my roommate and I decided that when we changed our voices we would either say we were from Belarus or Croatia because, well, no one knew anything about those countries.

One night, I told my roomie that I should just go to my one class (BIO 118) with that accent and pretend all block that I was from Croatia. What a story that would be for the kids: "once, in college, everyone in my biology class thought I was from Croatia." My roommate looked me dead on and told me that I didn't have the guts. She said that I would never do it. Then double dog dared me to introduce myself with that accent to everyone I met the following day- with an emphasis in my one class. If you know me at all- I don't turn down a good dare.*

I went to class and with brave face introduced myself to all the students and teacher in my accent. I even had to stand up. All eyes were on me. I said I was from Croatia. Brother Wall asked how long I had lived in Boise, Idaho. Now I've lied to my fair share of people. If I didn't have a testimony, I'd probably be a con artist. I know when people don't believe me. And Brother Wall did not believe my accent. When I said I lived in Croatia for a while he looked down. Why doesn't he believe me? Then he said:

"We had a student live with us for a year from Croatia." 

Panic ran over me. How could this happen? This one teacher I have and he just so happened to live an entire YEAR with someone from the one random, RANDOM country I chose. I knew how to cover it. Ask where the student was from and pretend you know where that is. Instead, I just said "oh." and sat down. I wanted to leave. Brother Wall knew Croatians's and their accents- and he knew that my accent was from nowhere.

To my despair, I had to talk to him about driving the school vans after class. He saw that I was nervous and asked if it was okay if I drove my fellow students around this semester. My sense of humor didn't come out with my accent. I said sarcastically: "Just another opportunity to kill people." With the accent, however, I ended up sounding like some terrorist from Croatia- sent to roll vans at BYU-Idaho. I jetted out of the class embarrassed, humiliated and anxious to tell my funny story of learning my lesson to everybody.

So Brother Wall, that's what happened. I'm not from Croatia. I didn't even know how to spell Croatia before this e mail. And as Heavenly Father looks down on me and says: "stop lying to my sons and daughters! It's not funny!" I come to repent. I'm sorry for lying. My accents will be saved for only the most appropriate times and I promise I will be 100% honest in life and especially your class. I hope you understand and are laughing about this as much as I am... or else the rest of this semester will be really awkward.

Your ordinary student from Boise Idaho with an ordinary American accent,
Carrie Sylvester

So that's the first half of the story. The second half is much, MUCH worse. I went back to class with no accent and, to my entertainment, no one said a word about it! Shows how little everyone cared. As the class progressed, I took notes and drove the vans and we went hiking and waded in rivers. It really was the best biology class. One time, we hiked up in the Teton Mountains and Brother Wall had us all sit down at this GORGEOUS over-look and pull out our notebooks. He said that we were going to talk about glaciers and then added: "Behind me used to be a glacier." It was some serious hands on learning.
But Brother Wall's tests were hard. He had warned us that his tests were essay questions, but I've gotten through those before. When I sat down to take the first test, however, I had no idea how to answer the questions. I kept most of the test blank. I got a 25%. The lowest grade I have ever received.

Well, about a week passes from the embarrassing test and I get an email from Brother Wall. I don't have the exact email anymore, but this is pretty much what it said:


"Carrie,

I have received a call from the testing center and they have informed me that you were cheating on your exam last week. I am writing this email to inform you that you have been pulled from my class and an appointment has been set up for you to meet with a dean to discuss if you should continue here at BYU-Idaho or be expelled. Carrie, why would you cheat? If you needed help, I would have been happy to assist you but you have now used your choices to paint yourself into a corner. 

Oh, and I'm just kidding. I'm getting you back for that little accent stunt you tried to pull in my class. 
See you Thursday.

-Bro. Wall"

You can imagine my reaction as I read that. I was bawling. I was screaming in my head: "HOW CAN THEY SAY I CHEATED?! I GOT 25%! I DIDN'T EVEN ANSWER 75% OF THE QUESTIONS!"
And then I continued to read, blinked a couple of times and cracked up.
Of course, I also called my roommates in (all of whom were concerned by my tear streaked face) and had them read the email, and I read it to my mom who about had a heart attack. A great prank like that from a PROFESSOR needs to be shared.

The point is, that was pretty much the end of my lying days. Of course, I still tell a fib here and there but I don't do it just to see how people will react anymore and I really do try to keep it to a minimum  Turns out, telling the truth can sometimes get a way better reaction than a lie anyway :)

Friday Fibs Part 7

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn2 Comments
I have found that if I want something, I can use a fake accent. This is not to say that I am amazing at dialects- I am not. But it does not take much to fool somebody into thinking "you're not from around here are you" so it's hard to resist. Especially when I am impatient.

Like driving through at McDonald's. I always crave my Diet Coke when the world is off for lunch hour and I do not like sitting in line waiting for people to get their food while all I want is a soda. And I know it's my own fault for going during lunch and who am I to feel entitled to less of a wait and blah blah blah.

One day, I kindly ask if I could get my drink at the first window instead of the second. The voice in the intercom was LESS than pleased with me. Like, he was really REALLY put off that  I would ask that. I told him I totally understood and that I thought I would ask anywaythankyou. When I pulled up, he gave me a stink eye and a lecture about how "they don't do that."

Sheesh.

The next time I go to get my soda, I am waiting in a monstrous line and I start thinking:
Southern people can say whatever they want. They can call you fat and ugly but because of their accents and smiles you would think they were giving you a compliment.

When I pull up to order, I say in my thickest Tennessee accent (the sing-song Nashville kind):
"I'd like a large Diet Coke please. And darlin' could you do me the biggest favor in the world and have it at the first window so I don't have to wait in this line?"

"Sure we can do that."

BOOM.

But maybe it wasn't the accent, I start to think as I roll forward. Maybe it's a nice person.

When I pull up to the first window, my Coke is ready and I gush:
"You just done made my WHOLE day! Thank you SO much!"

And I swear to you, the lady blushes. THEN, two other ladies pop out from around the corner as if they were trying to get a glimpse of me. One of them shouts:
"We love your accent!"

Yeah. I think it was Nashville Carrie that got away with that one.

Friday Fibs (Part 6)

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn1 Comment

An ongoing saga of all of the little lies I've told in my day          Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

The fall after I graduated high school, I worked at what used to be known as "Clean Flicks." My friends from Idaho and Utah may remember these video stores. They rented edited videos. People loved to rent a rated R movie that had all of the swearing and violence cut out. I wasn't really a huge fan of edited movies myself (some would be like 20 minutes long), but it was a job that paid well and was full-time. 

It wasn't the busiest of places, as you can imagine, and I often passed the time watching The Sound of Music, reading books and talking on the phone. One day in particular, I was on the phone with my best friend, Anna. I can't remember what we were talking about but I do remember she was "on one." Not high or drunk or anything but... she might of well have been. 

We've all had our moments. 

So we're talking and she's being crazy and I see that a customer is about to walk in the store, so I tell Anna to hang on. She gets all hyper-indignant (I'm sure in a joking way) and tells me I better not hang up on her. I am getting more nervous as this customer has now entered the store and I am saying really slowly and clearly:

"Anna. I am NOT hanging up. I am just putting the phone down to help a customer. I'm not hanging up."

I put the phone on the counter and for SOME REASON Anna is making the most ridiculous noises known to man. As I'm helping the lady at the counter, I see her eye the phone and I suddenly tune in to all of the crazy things Anna is babbling. There was silence between the customer and I. Just us in a big quiet video store listening to Anna go on and on.

By this point, I feel like an idiot for not just hanging up the phone to help the customer. I mean really, that was some pretty crappy customer service. I'm so embarrassed by my mistake that I break the silence between us and explain:

"I'm so sorry! I am a big sister in the big brother big sister program. She has mental disabilities and I couldn't just hang up on her. I hope you understand."

I didn't deserve the smile and knowing nod I got from that nice edited-video-renter but I was also glad no one called my manager. 

Thanksgiving Brain Dump and a Friday Fib

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn5 Comments
I feel like I have been celebrating Thanksgiving for a million years! Georgia and I traveled to Boise this last weekend to attend my mom's annual ornament party, and to have Thanksgiving on Sunday with them. My sister got her wisdom teeth pulled and so the early dinner was mostly for her benefit. She's STILL swollen, so I'm happy she had turkey early. Once baby and I got back to Utah (forgot my music = longest. drive. ever), we welcomed Scott's brother and his family back to the Beehive state for the holiday. We spent two straight days at my in-laws and I was all: "Geez, why am I so exhausted? Why is Georgia so grumpy?"
Duh, Carrie. It's because sometimes you forget to take a break from adventures. How grateful I am that I can live my life from one adventure to the next, though. Not a lot of people can say that.

I somehow dragged my mother-in-law to her very first black friday... thursday... at Wal-Mart so she could get a couple of Wii's. I grabbed a new TV (you should have seen our boxy ancient one) and some wedding gifts. I got everything I wanted and was home by 9:30pm. That was the best feeling ever! I may or may not have had the help of some 6'8 BYU linebackers who were around me... they were there for the crazy, and I asked them to help me find Brave on Blu-Ray. They were pretty pleased with themselves when they brought it back. "GIRL! LOOK! WE FOUND BRAVE!"
I was weirdly relieved they called me "girl" and not "lady."

Today was spent with Scott (pretty much) all to myself and we were so relaxed. We leisurely left the house and got lunch at Costco. Scott went shooting with his dad and brother later in the afternoon so I ventured with Georgia to Target to see what scraggly deals were left over. I am currently wearing the most comfortable $10 pajama's of my life. Georgia found a Baby Disney Princess doll that was $5.99. Now, when my daughter wants a toy while we're shopping, I let her play with it through the store and then usually leave it at the cash register. My logic is that I would rather have a screaming 17 month old as I walk OUT of the store than as I walk THROUGH the store. So we get to check-out and Georgia is fah-reaking out that she can't have this doll. The lady behind me in line looks more heart-broken than my daughter. We have the following conversation mist Georgia's sobs and me trying to check-out.

Lady: "Oh! She is so sad! She really wants that doll!"
Me: "I know, life can be so hard right?"
Lady: (clearly not picking up/caring about my sarcasm): "She is so sad. She needs that doll!"
Me: "She has so many dolls, and a Grandma that has gotten her plenty for Christmas"
Lady: "But she wants THAT one. Oh she is just so sad! Isn't only like six bucks? You need to get that for her."
Me: (starting to be annoyed) "Nooope."
Lady: "She NEEEEEDS that doll!"

I ended up just laughing at this lady's pleads for me to purchase this doll instead of continuing to engage in the conversation. I was not amused to have TWO people whining at me and I was annoyed that this stranger was trying to boss me around or something. I paid- LEAVING THE DOLL, and left the store.

I'm in the parking lot loading a very grumpy and hungry Georgia into her car seat when the lady from behind me at check-out is running towards me with what? The doll I left with the cashier.

"I got this for your daughter! She NEEDS to have it! 'Tis the Season!"

She is smiling so wide and is so pleased with her act of service that I completely melt. I feel stupid for being grumpy with her and I gush over how kind she is. Then I reply that while this was such a great gesture, my daughter is truly NOT in need and that perhaps she could donate the doll to a child who really IS in need. I thought this was a good compromise. Her smile stayed as I talked, but her tone got more serious when she said:

"But I could tell by the expression on that beautiful girl's face that she NEEDS this doll."

I accepted the dang doll and drove home. What a kind woman. At first I was determined to donate the doll myself, but now I feel guilty... this lady REALLY wanted Georgia to have it. Perhaps I will pay it forward and go pick up another one tomorrow to donate. I mean, they were only six bucks after all ;)

I have a late Friday Fib for today too, I just kind of forgot it was Friday earlier... But tonight Scott and I went with his family to see the lights at Temple Square. The dark and the lights kind of disoriented us and we couldn't find the visitor's center with the statue of Jesus where we were meeting my in-laws. Though we didn't say it, I knew that both Scott and I felt too embarrassed to ask anyone... but it was cold... and we couldn't find the building...
So I found a group of nice looking people and in my most BASHFUL fake-something accent asked:

"Sorry... where iz... um... statue?" I outstretched my arms like the statue. They spoke to me very loudly and clearly and over exaggerated pointing to where the building was.
"Ok! Sorry! Thank you!" They were very happy to help a poor struggling-to-speak-English family find Jesus. So that fib isn't that bad right? They got to serve and feel good, and Scott and I dodged the embarrassment of not knowing our way around 5 buildings in the middle of our city. Win-win.

Phew! How was your week?

Friday Fibs Part II

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn1 Comment
Every Friday for the next little while I am documenting some little lies I have said in the past that have gotten me into awkward situations.
 For a full explanation see Friday Fibs Part I



Quite a while ago, Scott and I were crashing at Amber and Lucas's apartment like we would usually do. We're talking and laughing  and probably eating cookies. As nature would have it, I suddenly have to use the bathroom because, well... I was on my period and I had to go take care of myself. 

Now, I don't know about you, but I find it incredibly awkward to wad up a bloody tampon in toilet paper and put it in your friends waste basket. I mean, what if they FOUND it or something? What else do you do with it, though?  I'm not gonna put it in my purse or something, so, I flush it. Not the pink plastic part, but I flush the gross part. 

And then their toilet gets clogged. 

Suddenly having them find the tampon in the trash seem a helluva lot less awkward then them plunging it out of their toilet. I'm standing over the bowl totally mortified. 

I get myself together and decide to be nonchalant and apologetic. I come out of the bathroom and tell them: "I'm so sorry, but your toilet's clogged."

Then Lucas, without missing a beat, looks at me and asks: "You didn't flush a tampon, did you?"

Okay so here's my friend who I used to know as an ELDER in my mission (am I right, former sisters?) asking me if I just flushed my feminine product down his toilet and clogged it. Amber and Scott are joining him in staring at me and waiting for my answer. I was so flustered and embarrassed. 

I practically screamed "NO!" as if such an idea was so impossibly below me. 

"Good," Lucas continued, "because we've been having septic tank issues and that would do it."

"Right, of course." I'm talking but I'm not blinking. I'm just staring back at everyone like a crazy person. "Scott, could I talk to you for minute?"

I pull Scott into the bathroom and in harsh whispers explain my panic: "I DID flush a tampon! What do we do? Can you help me find a plunger? We need to plunge this!"
Scott is totally confused as to why I'm suddenly freaking out on him in hushed tones in the bathroom... but a smirk went across his face as he began to understand. I realize then that HE wasn't going to be any help in covering my lie, so I did what I had to do. 

I ran out into the living room and desperately proclaimed: "I LIED! I DID FLUSH A TAMPON!" 

Of course, this makes Amber and Lucas crack up laughing and Lucas, with no qualms at all goes and plunges the toilet like it's no big deal. 

I'm grateful we're still friends with them- I know a few of couples who would tell you someone clogging their toilet and then lying about it would be a deal breaker. 

Friday Fibs Part I

"Friday Fibs"Carrie Lynn2 Comments
Congratulations to Jennifer Dean- winner of the $25 gift card to Tickled Peach Studio! Please email me at cuzitsfunny@hotmail.com and I will get you in touch with Kathy :)


A bit ago, my dear friend Amber and I were talking about how we are accidental liars. Sometimes, we're really good liars, and sometimes we're really bad liars. But we NEVER lie on purpose or with malice. Sometimes, little lies just pop out. Like when Amber walked into the wrong church found that for some reason, she just couldn't tell people she was in the wrong place. Or when I used my roommates body wash and came out of the shower smelling like Dove, and when she asked me if I had used her soap I said no. Even though I was standing there, smelling like her soap.

The good news is, our lies have not really come to hurt anyone (we think) and they are usually pointless. We hate when this happens, and we hate it more when we explain ourselves to people and they say: "why didn't you just say that?" and we have to say: "I really don't know."

 We're honest when it matters. Also, I had one bad experience with a professor and a Croation accent that (almost) put my lying to a halt.

As we were swapping stories and cracking up, I said: "Seriously, I have so many of these I could probably start a weekly feature on my blog." To which Amber exclaimed: "Friday Fibs!"

So here we are. 

This won't be a permanent feature (geez- I'm not pathological) but I thought it would be fun to write down some of my crazy fibs... if anything to tell my posterity not to lie.


Don't lie, posterity!


But let's begin...

I was at the DMV getting my liscense renewed. Anna was with me for some reason and after waiting forever in line, I had to fill out one final form. I filled it out the best of my ability and handed to the big lady with red lipstick behind the counter. She glanced at it, looked at me dead on and said:

"Please complete the form."

I was embarrassed that I had missed something that, apparently, was obvious enough for her to speak to me so delibrately. When I looked over the form, however, I couldn't find my mistake.

"Sorry, I don't see what I missed."

"It's not complete. You need to complete the form."

Her tone was both flat and forceful and I didn't want to tick her off anymore, but I HONESTLY could not find what I had missed. I started laughing. She didn't.

I used my finger to go over each line and everything looked complete. This was now taking an obnoxious amount of time and the line behind me was piling up. I asked Anna to look over the form and point out anything I might of missed. She did, and then we got fits of giggles at the awkwardness of the situation and how we REALLY couldn't find my mistake! Meanwhile, the woman behind the counter kept her scowl and reminded me repeatedly that the form was not complete.

Finally, I asked her "Could you just SHOW me what I missed? I would happy to fill it out, I just honestly don't see what I missed."

To which she responded: "Use your EYES."

Oh no she didn't.

I was totally taken aback at this woman's crass! But my mouth wasn't taken aback. Before I could even think it popped out:

"Sorry. It's just that I have dyslexia and these forms are really hard for me."

Her eyes went wide. Her face drained with color and then turned red. She started stammering about how sorry she was and pointed her manicured nail to a spot on the form I was supposed to check mark.

"It's okay," I said "I'm not actually dyslexic, but what if I was?!"

She held her hand over her heart and let out an audible sigh of relief
"Oh you scared me!"

I still kind of laugh about this one. Because really- what a jerk lady! I hope she learned her lesson. But I mean, I probably could have handled the situation with less giggling and lying and with more tact. I'm still a little torn though... I mean sometimes, the only way to get your point across is to tell someone you're dyslexic.