Congressmen and Spinach

Hi, everyone, it's me again. And me! Oh joy. Well, it occurred to me a while ago that I don't really need to use my blog anymore. Everything I want people to know I just tell them, and instead of using this to communicate with my grandma, I e-mail her more often. Therefore, this is basically useless. However, Sasori is incapable of throwing anything away. Exactly. Therefore, I shall be using this space to post the journal entries I write in Contemporary Literature and Writing class at school. They're short, they're mildly entertaining, and she writes them using my inspiration, so why not? Besides, I've been wanting to show them off. Today, we bring you the first of many, entitled Compulsive Liar. Why not put that in the subject space, you might ask? Because I like random, unrelated titles, that's why. This one alludes to something in the Word segment of the Colbert Report, but most of them will have no explanation, just to make you wonder. Right. So anyway, here we go. Compulsive Liar.

When I was little, I told people things that weren't true.

It started small. At age four, I told a grocery bagger that my name was Alice. I led the girl down the street to believe that I had seen every episode of Power Rangers twice. Simple, harmless lies.

But soon, the lies grew. I told kindergarten teachers I had met Barney, convinced a playmate I was from Texas, and informed my mother that the dog had used up her favorite lipstick.

Eventually, the truth was obscured behind a cloud of dishonesty, and it got to the point that I didn't even mean to make things up. Lies concealed themselves on my person and leapt out at innocent bystanders. I was trapped in my own web.

One day, my father took me aside and offered me help. He explained the difference between "lies" and "pretend" and told me he was there if I needed to talk. He said I wasn't so boring that I needed to craft a different life for myself. Just like that, at age nine, I was cured.

I still lie on occasion. "This broccoli is delicious!" and "I love your haircut!". But the tangled web I wove in my youth is gone. It is a shame, though, that I never really got to meet Barney.

Well, that was the first of the set. I hope you enjoyed it. You were a weird kid, you know that? I'm not going to take that from the guy who spent the last several months training to be an extra on Pirates of the Carribean 3. What, I can't have dreams?! *grumbles* Hehe. Well, see you next time, folks.