When we feel insecure about the reality that is us, we make things up to fill the gap between where and who we’d like to be, and where and who we really are.

Dating is embarrassing, especially when you’ve got to pitch your best romantic qualities to an anonymous rabble using only a series of Rorschach questionnaires and a thoroughly censored handful of photographs.

“This scar on my thumb? Oh, I once cracked a beer bottle over a guy’s head when he grabbed my ass and the glass cut me.”

“No, I did not sleep with that girl Michelle with the tattoos.”