bad crochet and worse men
At some point in 2020 or 2021, when it still didn't feel safe to be outside and/or around other people, I ordered a beginner crochet kit from a company called Wool and the Gang. They sent me two giant balls of fuchsia yarn and a crochet needle/hook thing, but no instructions. After spending 10 or 15 minutes on YouTube trying to figure out WTF I was supposed to do with the hook, I gave up.
A few months ago, someone told me about a yarn shop here in DC that offers in-person crochet classes. Cool, I thought. This will be so much easier if I can have someone show me what to do in person, and tell me how to fix my mistakes.
As six of us sat around a small table the week before last, I watched with dismay as the other beginners took to crochet the way baby ducks probably take to water. I understood what my hands were supposed to do, but my brain wasn't able to transmit those instructions to my fingers. I started getting frustrated, muttering "this goddamn thing" (like father, like daughter), and thought about leaving. The instructor told me some people just have to work on the same basic stitch over and over, but once they master it, the rest comes quite easily.
After an hour with precious little to show for it, I stuffed the yarn and hook into my purse and headed home, vowing to conquer that ball of yarn, to stitch and bitch my way through the entire thing, until I had developed enough muscle memory to go back for another class.
The yarn and hook sat on my dining room table until 3 or 4 days ago, when videos about Reesa Teesa (Time) took over TikTok.
Reesa Teesa is a woman in Atlanta who, starting around Valentine's Day, made a 50-part video series about her pathological liar ex-husband. She used TikTok's new 10-minute video feature. The series is called “Who TF Did I Marry?” (The Washington Post is about to release a big piece on it.)
You are thinking: "Why the hell would I want to spend 500 minutes watching a woman complain about her ex-husband?" Or: "Reality TV is trash and now it's on TikTok, ugh, no thank you." Or: "Let me guess, more so-called entertainment in which a woman is victimized by a man."
I thought the exact same things. But since Reesa Teesa seemed to be all anyone was talking about on TikTok, I was curious enough to watch the first episode. I was hooked. [Oh god, pun not intended but I'm leaving it there.]
It took me the better part of two days to listen to all 50 episodes, as I worked my way through that ball of yarn.
The story itself is nuts. She met a man on a dating site, he seemed perfect when they met, Covid hit, they moved in together, got married, and then she found out he was lying about everything: His family, his friends, his finances, his social security number, his criminal record, where he went to college, his job, EVERYTHING. Red flags galore that she ignored because she so badly wanted it to be "her turn." Eventually she started putting the pieces together and divorced him.
But it is the WAY she tells the story that is so compelling. She speaks slowly and carefully. She tells the story chronologically, often recapping where she left off. She is careful to protect other people's identities, shares only what she experienced first-hand, and holds herself accountable for the mistakes she made along the way. The whole reason she is telling her story is because she hopes it will help other women avoid similar men.
By the time she finished, I was ready to assemble a girl gang to go kick this guy's ass. I'd also finished the whole ball of yarn:
I'm still thinking about Reesa Teesa's story, and where to draw the line between mental illness and evil. Or if you CAN draw such a line. This man sounds like a total psychopath. Is that something that can be fixed? Like, is there some kind of treatment plan with meds and therapy and rehab that would make him a good person, or at least not a dangerous one? Also, did he believe his own lies? What was his end game? How many other equally horrible men are out there and how are women supposed to recognize that these men are pathological liars without becoming full-time private detectives? Finally, in terms of pathological liars, what percentage of them are male v. female? Is it genetic??
I will probably still be fixated on this story as I learn crochet stitch #2 and work my way through the next ball of yarn.
And if I ever learn how to crochet something that's actually nice, I may send it to Reesa Teesa.
Links
Jamaican TikTok is super pissed off about the Bob Marley movie, claiming Ziggy sold out and there is no excuse for not having Jamaican actors play Bob and Rita. Fair enough. Still, both actors deserve Oscars for their performances, even if their patois wasn't perfect. Because the movie has Marley back in pop culture conversation, here's a great piece about the Legend album, and how it was purposely created for a white audience. And yes it includes a Ras Trent reference. (The Ringer)
I remember wheezing and sweating my way through the President's Physical Fitness Test in 5th or 6th grade, yelling at anyone who would listen that there was no way in hell Ronald Reagan could pass this test, so why was I expected to? So this piece was gratifying to read, but I'd still like to see something about how male-centered the old test was. (NYT)
For anyone dealing with extreme night sweats, here's a not-cheap solution that sounds pretty great. (NYMag)
A whole bunch of writing prompts, primarily for fiction writers. I want to be inspired by these but they just stress me out. (LitHub)
NSFW: What happens when scientists rely on AI for an image accompanying a research paper on rats' sperm cells. (Mashable)