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Honesty is the best policy. Wait, is my nose growing?

March 26th, 2014

 

 

Hey there, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to play everyone’s favorite game, “name that movie.” (Cue cheesy game show music). I’ll give you a quote and you tell me what movie it’s from. Okay, start the clock.

 

Girl to another girl’s face: “Omigosh I love your skirt, where’d you get it?” Girl behind girl’s back: “That is the ugliest effing skirt I have ever seen.” Pause. Same girl to girl she just confessed to: “Omigosh I love your bracelet, where’d you get it?”

 

No, it’s not everyday life – try again (Wait, you may have a point there…)

 

If you guessed “Mean Girls,” congratulations – you’ve won an old salad from Guy’s Pizza that’s been carefully preserved in The Carroll News’ fridge for the past two months. Kudos to you, friend.

 

But in all seriousness, let’s bring it in. This 30-second segment in “Mean Girls” is laughable, yes. Yet, when you get down to it, it’s relatable. We see this every day. Here comes the awkward laughs and the uncomfortable squirming.

 

We’ve all been guilty of it.

 

We say things to people to save face. We’re fake. We’re not honest. We’re just living one big fat lie.

 

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen more and more of this. And it makes me want to crawl in a box and snap at young children saying the world just isn’t fair (Okay, that may be a bit dramatic).

 

So why can’t we just be honest with each other? If one of our friends thinks she’s the next Carrie Underwood, but she sounds like a whale passing a kidney stone when she opens her mouth, why do we tell her, “Omigosh, your voice is, like, so good.”

 

Honesty hurts sometimes. We like it when our egos are stroked. It keeps the peace. Yet, what are friendships if they’re built on lies? You stroke my ego with a bunch of empty words, I’ll stroke yours, and then we’ll gossip about it behind each others backs. Omigosh, we’re so totally besties!

 

I’ve unfortunately always said what’s on my mind 95 percent (You’ll know when the five percent happens). Whenever I lie, I choke up and start nervous twitching. It’s a thrill to watch. I blame it on my strict Catholic upbringing and those gosh darn nuns in grade school who would bend down two inches away from your face to make you confess your deepest, darkest secrets until you cracked.

 

Sometimes, I just blurt the truth out there. And, hey, I see why people opt out of this. People aren’t necessarily fond of being told that their excrements indeed stink. Yet, it’s a fact of life we’re going to have to face eventually.

 

So, I propose an airing of grievances a Festivus for the rest-of-us style (I can’t wait for Feats of Strength).

 

Let’s go around and tell people exactly what we think of them. Starting with, “Ew, I hate your top.” Then a chorus of, “Your breath stinks.” And finally, the finale of, “Despite what everyone tells you when you desperately ask if those jeans make you look fat, yes, those jeans indeed make you look fat.”

 

Okay, honesty may not always be the best policy. We have to have some sort of a censor or else chaos could ensue at any given moment and the world could go up in flames while girls are strangling each other and bashing one another on the head with high heels (I swear those things could double as weapons).

 

Yet, here are the rules (in my humble opinion) we should abide by: If someone asks you something, be up-front. Don’t sugarcoat it. Avoid talking behind someone’s back, unless you have said or will say the exact same thing to their face. If you don’t like someone, don’t be “fake nice” to them. Be cordial. Be professional. But, don’t talk like a chipmunk on helium and smile until your face is ready to shatter because you’re handing them nothing but doggie doodoo coated with a sugary sweetness. Behind the sugary sweetness is nothing but rubbish. They can see right through it.

 

And, most importantly, as my momma says, if you don’t have anything nice to say that isn’t honest, don’t say it at all. Simple as that.