Tag Archives: lies

Do Not Lie and Why I can’t Sew

I told a lie yesterday. It wasn’t, as lies go, the worst lie I’ve ever told, but it has had far-reaching implications. Let me explain.

‘How good are you at sewing?’ He asked me. I stared at him for a moment. ‘Exceedingly,’ I replied. ‘You remember ‘Little Women’? That good.’ He didn’t remember ‘Little Women’, or at least he failed to recognize the awesomely apt domesticity allusion I had just made, but he nodded happily and passed me two of his jumpers. ‘I have gotten a hole in my two favourite jumpers,’ He told me. ‘No problem!’ I replied cheerfully. ‘I adore to sew!’

I do not adore to sew. I do not even like to sew. The last thing I attempted to sew was a sampler for my Mother, aged 6 ½. The teacher took one look at it and decided it would work much better as a glasses case, and promptly folded it in half, inside-out, and sewed it up. My Mother does not wear glasses.

I said I could sew because I like to impress. I also truly believe that there lies, hidden deeply beneath this lazy, fickle, self-absorbed sarcastic pleasure-seeker I seem to have turned into, a bona fide Beth, who revels in the simple pleasures of hearth and home.

It is easy enough to convince someone that you can sew- simply take their holey garments, send them to a dry-cleaner and return them later to their owner, mended. The trouble is that now the other person thinks you are a sewer. They will assume that you are also a baker, an ironer, a hooverer. Soon you can never let them anywhere near your home, in case they see that you still staunchly believe that one day a lost Brownie will come and secretly tidy up your flat. But I fear that I have now opened the floodgates, so tonight, instead of smashing ice-cubes against our kitchen counter to make crushed ice for our caipirinhas, I will be making little lavender bags to put in my underwear drawers. Look- I’m new to this, ok? I assume that’s what domestic goddesses do. Now, if I could just work out which of my over-stuffed and randomly filled drawers is meant to be for underwear…

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Decoding online dating profiles

As I mentioned before, because of a terrible fear of missing out, I’ve joined a free dating site. One of the best things about this is that all its members are asked to fill out an online ‘profile’. You answer exceptionally pertinent and carefully chosen questions such as ‘what would be the first thing people notice about you?’ and the site finds your soulmate. 

The only flaw with this otherwise infallible system is that other people lie. Luckily, I am terribly good at ‘reading between the lines’.

‘I am a easy-going, sociable guy who likes going out and having a good time’, someone will write. ‘How pleasant,’ You might think. You are an idiot.

‘Easy-going‘- no-one who is genuinely ‘easy-going’ would ever think to write this about themselves. This chap is either so tightly wound he makes OCD look relaxed, or he is so lazy he has his take-away delivered to his neighbours, so he doesn’t have to get up to sound the buzzer. Avoid.

Sociable‘- you’re looking for love on the internet.

‘Likes going out and having a good time‘-is incoherently drunk by 10pm, spends rest of the evening wandering around looking for a kebab shop and weepingly telling strangers he loves them. Avoid until he locates kebab shop.

I, personally, have taken a slightly different approach to my own profile (total views: 4)

Looks: I am in possession of all my original body parts, which conform to the usual human arrangement (head, limbs, feet etc). A few years ago, I thought I was going bald, but I haven’t, so that’s nice.

Traits: I wee in the shower, and leave the top off the toothpaste so it crusts over. I replace the toilet roll properly (throwing the old one away, putting the new one on the holder), and don’t put the milk back in the fridge with only one sip left in it. I steal the duvet.

Looking for: Someone who will bring me a glass of water when I’m hungover, lets me have all the duvet and laughs at all my jokes. (Even the rubbish ones).

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