What's your lie?

We all have at least one, right? Seriously. Everyone loves a little mystery. I know I do. For me, secrets are comforting. I am warmed by the many layers they form over my delicate, invisible heart. Sometimes I tell people that my heart is bulletproof. There's a lie. It's not my heart that's invulnerable... it's all those sacred, secret layers.

I passed out notecards at the meeting. I needed an opening exercise. Something to get people out of themselves, something to help them open up, something to celebrate the diversity of our group while realizing just how similar we all really are, something to help the newbs introduce themselves, something easy and fun and interesting. Tall order, that one. So after googling for ideas - because let's face it, I'm not a social creature at all and haven't the faintest idea on how to get an entire group of total strangers to at least be friendly and nice to each other - I decided on "2 truths and a lie".

For this exercise, each person makes 3 statements about themselves. The object of the game is to try to guess which statement is a lie. It sounds far more interesting than it turned out to be. Ok, allow me to elaborate: if the people participating were a little braver or less inhibited, it might have been exactly as interesting as it sounded. I changed my answers halfway through the circle because everyone's truths and lies were either about their family or body art. My lie turned out to be that I have 7 inappropriate but tastefully concealed tattoos.

Snore. Kill me.

But it got me thinking... If I wasn't so jaded and annoyed by the results of my group exercise, what interesting things could I reveal about myself to this group of random people? My lie should have been any of the following:

I'm completely satisfied with my life. I've never considered suicide. I've never been homeless or lived out of my car. I'd never drink and drive and haven't. I've never been under the influence of either drugs, alcohol, or a combination of both. I didn't drink or smoke until I was of age, because my parents wouldn't buy me the shit until I was of the legal age and by then I wasn't tempted any longer. I've never riden on the hood of a moving vehicle. I've never drowned due to the negligence of a family member. I've never been inside a motor vehicle while it was on fire. I've never been searched by the police for looking like a dangerous thug. I wasn't asked by the school administration not to attend school on the anniversary of the Columbine shootings. I've never used my rage powers to remove an entire wall from the trailer my father shared with his new bitch after she said something trashy and unnecessarily cruel about my mother. It's hard for me to confess the terrible things that I have done or mistakes that I have made. I regret all of the terrible choices I have made. I've never kissed someone I completely hated at the time. I plan on getting married someday. My first novel won't be in any way autobiographical. I don't regret all of the terrible choices I have made. It's easy for me to confess the terrible things that I have done or mistakes that I have made. I've never kissed someone I've completely loved at the time. Revealing truths about myself makes me feel better than just keeping my secrets to myself.

Anyway, it was fun enough for them and it got everyone sharing and participating, so... fine. Whatever. I guess I expected something real and fascinating and revealing and personal. I suppose my expectations for things are a little different than what everyone else expects from them.

On a happy note, no one was interested in the sandwiches provided, so I've got roast beef subs for lunch for the next two weeks. I guess I won't have to go grocery shopping afterall. That is so disappointing. (That's another lie, by the way. I hate grocery shopping.)