creepy number molesters

There are a few life lessons everyone must learn.. A. Karma will get you no matter what and B. A lie is a lie is a lie... no matter what way you slice it.

When i was younger i was a master liar. I lied about things it didnt even make sense to lie about.. my sister calls it my love for telling stories... which considering the alternative is that im a compulsive liar and should go to therapy... ill take it!

I think the last time i told a good lie though was in grade 12... senior year in high school... winter 2005. (duh duh duhhhhhhhh)

Ive always been pretty horrible with math.. i think it has something to do with my younger years watching sesame street.. Something about those men opening there coats to show you the numbers creeped me out      " NO hes gonna show us his naughty place!! oh nvr mind just the number 2" Maybe my fear of these numbers manifested into my inability to do my multiplication tables.... ill talk about it with my therapist... point is i failed grade nine math twice and barelyyyy passed the years after that.

By grade 12 i was finishing up grade 11 math, my dad who was huge on grades and even bigger on scaring those grades out of me, told me, "you better be doing your homework ah! when do you get those report cards!" to which i lied " dad trust me, im getting like all A's.."

At the end of the week we all sat in home room waiting for our fates as the teacher called out our names. This was it, final year, all those days of not doing a single thing until the last minute was going to pay off, and a miracle would descend... somehow the teachers would overlook the fact  that i was hardly in class because i was a genius and while they read over my exams they would see my brilliance and i would get A's all down the board *rip tear open* WRONG! 33% in math... bringing my overall average to 63%

It actually surprised me how surprised i was... like i really believed that my half assed attempt at every assignment was in fact A worthy.

But i dont just see the grades, in true Connie drama i see my dads doing the crazy eye... i see rejections from Universities... i see living in a box on bloor street with a dog named pickle... in a blizzard.... selling ciggerette butts to the crack heads for food..... my life was clearly over.

 I start hyper ventilating and then i think... and i think..... and i realize i could change these grades if i wanted to. All i needed was some white out and a photo copier... because if i photo copied the photo copy you could hardly see the white out! See my genius knew no bounds!

So i run to the library and with a slow steady hand i turn the 3 into an 8  ... i didnt want to go too big of course,  i needed it to be believable, so i gave myself a generous 83 percent average as opposed to my very unfair 33 percent.

It was raining that day so the fates were on my side, i walked down the street with the paper out in the rain too give it a more original look. I show my parents the report card, hold my breath and pray.... "OMG connie, were so proud of you!" i look at them suspiciously... are they fucking with me? cuz they've been known to mess with us from time to time....

But they werent, they bought it.... and later that week they bought me a very expensive jacket for doing such a good job...

I never thought i would feel bad for doing what i did but ive got to say looking at that jacket hanging in my closet day after day... it started to become the heart under the floor boards... whispering to me before i slept" hey connie PSTTT... you are a big fat liar... you dont deserve this jacket... i wonder what kind of dog Pickle will be? German Sheppard might keep you warm.... well except for your COLD COLD HEART!"

So i hardly wore that jacket at first..... after a while i learned to live with the guilt.... i mean the jacket was too cute to just NOT wear ever... and i did in fact pass math although i did have to lie my way into University! But that's another story.... one that im still going to blame on the creepy number molesters from sesame street!