Carla Gypsygirl's Blurty

Hmmm, I think someone's pants are on fire...

World-renowned liar, Pinocchio!
It's been one of those weeks when, every time I did something interesting or exciting, I thought to myself, "Ooooh, I must write about that in my blog!" And it's also been one of those weeks where, now that I am sitting in front of my computer, I've forgotten all of those funny quotes and anecdotes. If you read my sister's blog, you'd know that she's had a very thrilling time being an assistant director for a short film. I'm not going to put a link up for her blog today, because these days, I am getting jealous of all of the people reading her site. Anyhoo, maybe I didn't forget all of my blog ideas...maybe my brain just, kind of, dispensed with them after hearing about Sonya's exciting life. I mean, I can't compete with that sort of stuff! Sunrises on the Central Coast? Actors? Cool suitcases? I just can't compete!

But: for you, my dear readers, I will try my best. So, one of the most exciting things that happened to me this week was that I bought a suit jacket. If you know me personally, then you would know that that's a big deal for me. I have always had this resolution in my head that I, Carla Gypsygirl, would never, ever wear a suit. EVER. Because wearing a suit would make me part of the corporate MACHINE, it would mean that I work for THE MAN, it would mean that I have SOLD OUT. All of those scary capital letter things that you despise when you are an idealistic uni student. So anyway, to cut a long long story short...I spent a whole lot of money on a brand-new, all black wardrobe for my new retail job. And then, my supervisor AND the deputy manager of the store called me aside for personal chats about my uniform. That alone was embarrassing enough. While they made no complaint about my mini-skirts and sequins (Yessssss! Ally McBeal strikes again!), they told me that I HAD to buy a jacket, because I was representing the best of the best of my company. They told me that it was really important that I wear a jacket, because I had to look professional, and because "you'll notice that all of the other girls on this floor wear jackets, too."

I got sooooo mad. Isn't that silly? Like, Carla, it's just a jacket. It's no biggie. The deputy manager told me, "You were told this in your interview by the manager of your department." And I said, "No, I wasn't told that. All I was told was that I had to have the very best grooming standards, and I believe that I uphold those standards." Then, quickly, the deputy manager said, "Well, what does 'the best grooming standards' mean to you, Carla?" And I thought, what is this, school? So I replied, "It means that I iron my clothes." Then, because I was so shocked at my rudeness, I immediately shouted, "KIDDING! Kidding. That was a joke." Fortunately, the deputy manager laughed and said to another colleague, "See? This is why we hired Carla. She is so cute and funny! I love her!" Phew!

Anyway, I told my deputy manager and supervisor that, while I am aware that money is a delicate issue, I have financial problems, so I can't buy a jacket. No way. Not now. But the very next day I found a jacket on sale for $55, and, I must confess, it is TOTALLY AWESOME. So I bought it. Like, it is very Chanel (but obviously, it's not ). So anyway, now I own a jacket, and I guess all of my rebellious edginess is gone. Just like how my short spiky hair is gone, and how I don't wear knee-high stripey socks in public any more. I keep reminding myself that I am not defined by what I wear. That sounds like an obvious thing, but when you're a designer slash saleswoman who is preoccupied with aesthetics, it's hard to remember.

Did I mention that I have a bit of a lying problem? It's really bad. Well, not SO bad. Like, I don't tell people that I have a castle in France and that my dad is Keith Richards or anything like that. It's mostly little white lies that I tell, and they are always to do with work or money. I do it to avoid getting in trouble, and to avoid paying people when I don't think that I should. I do it so that people won't judge me. But it's SO BAD! I hate it when people tell fibs, so why do I do it? And God so obviously says not to lie. Argh! This is something that I need to work on.

In case you are wondering, these are the main lies I have told so far in 2006.

Carla Gypsygirl's Big Lies of 2006
> Geoff and I were on the train one night, and these two ticket officer dudes approached us. They asked to see our tickets. I showed them mine, but Geoff couldn't find his. It was then that we both realised that Geoff had forgotten to buy a ticket. So the officer guys started to write out a fare evasion fine for Geoff, and Geoff was really bummed out. It was $200! I really wanted to help Geoff, so I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I pretended to cry. I sobbed hysterically and said, "Please, please don't give us a fine! What are we going to do? How are we going to pay rent? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" All of these other passengers were staring at us. The officer guys looked like they felt really bad. I was so convincing that afterwards, Geoff was shocked to find out that I wasn't really crying. Then he said, "What rent?" Because, well, even though I pay my parents board, I definitely don't pay rent. Anyway, that stupid lie didn't work. The dudes still fined Geoff. I just made them feel like they ruined my night, which was a bit mean of me.
> I told Mustafa, my stalker, that my name was Carol. This lie was a rather dangerous one. I knew Mustafa from the train I caught to work, and he knew the street where I worked. The problem was that I worked with a girl called Carol, and everyone always got me and Carol confused, because we are both Chinese. So I kind of gave Carol a stalker, too.
> When I was trying to leave my old job, I told my boss that I was going to get to work late because I was avoiding Mustafa, my stalker. But what I was really doing was going to a job interview with a rival company.
> I told everyone at my old work that I was leaving so that I could study advertising. But I didn't end up getting into the advertising course. So when they all asked me if I had been accepted, I told them that I hadn't found out yet. I did it because I didn't want them to think that I was a loser, and that I was leaving my job with nothing ahead of me.
> With that whole jacket thing with my new job, I kind of exaggerated a lot when I told my supervisor and manager about my financial situation. I gave them the impression that I am an impoverished soul who lives all on her lonesome, and must pay rent with the wages from her part-time job. The truth is that I still live at home with my parents, and that they are nice enough to not make me pay board while I am working part-time.

SEE? I totally have a lying problem! And I was even thinking of lying this Sunday to my friends from my old job. I am going my ex-workmate's baby shower, and my old work friends will be there. I know that they will be all, "So, are you working for a flash design company yet?" I was going to tell them that I work in retail, but I wasn't going to tell them where the store was located. I was going to tell them that I work in a completely different suburb from the one I really work in. You see, I am scared that my old boss will come and visit me and say, "SO! You left us to work in a STORE? HA! That'll teach you!"

But then I realised that the truth is better than a lie. I mean, I really like my new job. Well, apart from the jacket thing, and the rich people. But, the truth is that I like my new job better than my old job, and that's cool, right? And I need to show people that I trust in God...sure, I might not have a cool design job yet, but maybe it'll come soon.

Anyway, I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you guys about the lies that I tell. Partly, I wanted to tell you because I thought it was kind of funny. But now I realise that it's because I don't want to lie any more. And if I'm open about lying, then maybe I'll be open about the truth. I'm going to try really hard to tell the truth from now on, and not worry about what people think of me.

So here's to a falsehood-free week! Let's all try it together.

Carla Gypsygirl