Cookie Dough and Lies

I bought a five pound tub of chocolate chip cookie dough last Friday and the dough is already half way gone. I wouldn't feel so bad except that none of the dough ever made it into the oven before it got shoveled into my face. The only person who could possibly understand is my darling Rubens but he's long gone.

In other news - well, there is no other news. I'll have to make something up like always. What should it be tonight? My comical run-in with Kim Jong-il? How I saved my neighbors' newborn baby from a raging inferno wearing high heels? Or maybe I could spin a convincing picture of my previous life as an IceCapades ambulance driver.

Or I could just dig into my mental files and give you guys something real that's been kicking around in my brain for a while.

White Lies:

When I was 16 by some strange turn of events I ended up alone at an IHOP at 3am on a school night. As it was past the hour when I could hope to fall asleep, I was leisurely sucking at my second hot coco and staring out the window at my reflection. My waitress was bored and interrupted my reverie by casually asking why I was at IHOP at that unlikely hour.

I'm not sure what I came over me but I instantly replied "I'm running away."

"From where?" she asked a little startled.

"Oklahoma. I've got a real bad situation there so I just got in the car and started driving a few hours ago. All I've got now is my car."

"Really! Where are you heading?"

"I'm not sure. They'll probably start looking for me come morning so I'm just trying to get as far from home as possible."

With an impressed look in her eyes, the waitress asked if I needed a refill. As I drank my hot chocolate that morning I imagined all the exotic things that girl was going to do with her new lease on life.

I've since kicked the white lie habit. It's been ten years since that night but this particular lie still lures my imagination. The lie was totally harmless yet unreasonably exhilarating. I was just a kid in a restaurant but when that waitress gave me the cue, I transformed myself into someone living a completely wild life full of drama. Why I chose an abused Oklahoman still eludes me but it's the ease in which I slipped into her persona that dazzles me.

There is amazing power in a lie.

Used appropriately, it can be good recreational fun like sucking helium. But if your lie gets out of control you could accidentally inhale the entire balloon and end up in a tight spot. I've tried to use white lies for good only. It's invaluable in certain situations involving ugly babies, panhandlers and my Dad's favorite Christmas slacks from the 70's. Once I was in an art gallery on Rodeo Drive and wanted to see some of the more expensive paintings they kept in storage so I made up an elaborate story about my rich husband and how we were shopping to decorate our fabulous new timeshare in Malibu. The art gallery owner gave me a personal tour of all their hidden stores of Picasso, Matisse and Miro. An indisputable white lie success story.

But another time I lied to a musician and told him that I played the electric bass guitar to make him like me. He took the bait, and asked me out. On our second date we stopped by his house and he thrust his bass at me and told me to play him something. That didn't end well. This was the guy that I left message after message on his machine asking him why he never called back. I'm relieved to report that I have since learned how to play the bass in case this same situation ever comes up again. Yeah, it was that embarrassing.

After more mishaps than merriment, I've abandoned the white lie along with most of my more telling signs of immaturity. There's no use trying any funny stuff now that I'm married. Spike can spot a lie from a mile away and I don't feel the need to embellish the details of my already overabundantly blessed life. I can't kick the cookie dough habit though. One more spoonful then I'm off to bed. Well.. I guess I haven't totally kicked the lying habit...let's make it two.