Bite Me

A Text Not Meant For Me, A Game Not Played By Me

/ Ally Bean / 257 Comments

IT WAS AROUND THIS TIME 5 years ago when I lost touch with, let’s call her, Kathleen the Control Freak— a natural born queen bee, uptight and competitive.

The Covid-19 pandemic lockdown had just begun. I’d texted her to make sure she was doing okay and got a terse reply something to the effect of: “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I responded with a polite “Just checking in” and left it at that.

During the next few months I tried a few more times to text her, our usual way of communicating, but got no reply.

Crickets make more noise.

Come December we didn’t receive a holiday card from Kathleen the Control Freak which confirmed I no longer existed in her small world which, truthfully, I was happy to not be part of anymore.

I’ve never been good in the role of a wannabe to a queen bee.

• • •

FAST FORWARD TO A FEW weeks ago when Kathleen the Control Freak texted me, including me in a group text to friends who play pickleball at her club. This seemed odd because: 1) her previous behavior over the last five years suggested I am persona non grata; and 2) I don’t play pickleball.

I believe I was accidentally included.

At this point, fun as it would have been to text a group reply about this queen bee’s error, I did not do that. Instead I watched in real time as everyone, a group of women who’d never give me the time of day, texted among themselves.

From this I observed that these women, who gushed and fawned over each other, waited dutifully for Kathleen the Control Freak to establish dominance by dictating where and when they’d be going to breakfast together the next morning after she finished her 8:00 a.m. pickleball game.

Queens gotta rule all the courts.

• • •

NOW AS YOU CAN IMAGINE this experience left me with a few things to consider.

• I wondered why Kathleen the Control Freak, a perfectionist along the lines of Martha Stewart, still has my phone number, presumably for some reason, in her exalted list of contacts.

I admit this seemed odd to me but also not worth dwelling on. Her number is no longer in my contacts and that’s what matters to me.

• I wondered why I’d ever considered Kathleen the Control Freak to be a friend. Was I wrong when I thought she was fun to be around? Or have we both changed over the years— she getting bossier, me getting mellower?

That’s the conclusion I’m sticking with because I see no need to overthink why someone ghosts you.

• But most importantly, and this is where the snark is, I wondered about whether I should be mischievous and show up to join the group for breakfast the next morning.

After all I knew the details of the plan to get together, didn’t I? 

But I didn’t go. For one thing it’d have been an hour drive to get to their side of town and that seemed more bothersome & petty than worthwhile & victorious.

And for another thing despite contemplating this way to upset them, in reality I didn’t care about whatever the heck was going on with this group of grown-up mean girls.

Under the circumstances, would you?

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Thinking about these last five years, has anyone ghosted you? Have you ghosted anyone? Details if you please.

Have you ever found yourself in a group text where you didn’t belong? If so, what did you do?

Who’s the most control freaky person you know in real life?

Do you play pickleball?

• • 🪴 • •

What A Hoot! 6 Random Things To Tell You On A Tuesday Morning In February

/ Ally Bean / 277 Comments

I am reminded. Many, many years ago around Valentine’s Day I learned about a simple Spanish cocktail called a Kalimotxo. It’s Red Wine & Coke, a take on the Cuba Libre cocktail of Rum & Coke. It’s not my favorite drink, but I won’t disparage it either. I remember it at this time of year because it was deemed the perfect Valentine’s Day cocktail. Think whimsically and look at how it is spelled: KalimotXO. Kisses and hugs automatically included with each drink.

I am grateful. Colette, a former blogger who is now HERE on IG, has a relaxed idea about how to embrace thankfulness. I am doing it. Instead of a daily gratitude journal, each week you decide what’s your one favorite gratitude experience from the week. Then you write it on a small piece of paper, fold the paper into a square, putting the square into a jar designated: Good Things. After a year you’ll have your bestest gratitude moments in a pile of notes in front of you.

I am irked. WordPress’s current commenting system is an exasperating multi-step process— if you can even get your words to show up in the comment box. I contacted WordPress yesterday and asked why I was unable to comment on WP blogs. The Happiness Engineer gave me the link to WP problem updates +  had many suggestions of various possible solutions. The one that worked for me was to change browsers, so now instead of Safari I’m using Chrome for iMac when I visit bloggy friends and want to leave a comment.

I am delighted. I’m a fan of Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series of cozy mysteries that feature octogenarian sleuths. Thus I’m looking forward to the movie version with its perfect cast: Helen Mirren [Elizabeth], Ben Kingsley [Ibrahim], Pierce Brosnan [Ron], and Celia Imrie [Joyce]. The movie is set to release in 2025 and it well could be the best thing to happen this year.

I am underwhelmed. If you enjoy NYT’s Connections word game and would like to create your own, go HERE and have at it. However, a truth bomb: I put together a couple of these games and discovered that my results were weaksauce, not even worth saving. But you might be better at making one than I was.

I am nerdy. According to the Jock-Nerd/Prep-Goth Test I’m a Nerd who’s slouching toward Goth. To wit: “Nerds are sometimes seen as being more interested in academics, technology, or other ‘nerdy’ pursuits than in popular culture or mainstream social activities.” Hell yes, NAILED IT! A joiner I am not.

~ • ~

Questions of the Day

Do you have a particular drink that you think of around Valentine’s Day?

If you have a gratitude practice, what is it?

Are you finding it increasingly more difficult to leave comments on WordPress blogs? And how does that make you feel?

Do you read mysteries? Do you do the NYT’s Connections game?

And finally, if you took the Jock-Nerd/Prep-Goth Test, who is ‘ya? Spill the beans

~ ~ 🩷 ~ ~

The One About Multitasking, Machine Beeps, And Marital Bliss

/ Ally Bean / 190 Comments

“Monica, you’re all chaotic and twirly, but not in a good way.”

That’s a line from the TV show Friends. Zen-Den said it to me as he walked into the kitchen.

I was in the kitchen doing important things.

I’d just put some cornbread into the oven, chili was in the slow cooker, and on the counter was a new Lands’ End catalogue that I was leafing through looking for some spring-y clothes.

I had a Minwax color chart [36″ x 10″] spread across the kitchen table near the window waiting for the late afternoon sunshine to get over there so I could clearly see the three gazillion and two color choices. And the washer & dryer were doing their things in the laundry room adjacent to the kitchen.  Also I was keeping an eye on the dishwash that was almost finished with a load.

I WAS MULTI-TASKING, people.

Well before I could say a word back to Mr. Hilarmoose, the dishwasher started beeping: “I’m ready for you to unload me now.” The dryer started beeping: “Hurry, hurry, don’t let these clothes get wrinkled.” And the washing machine finished its dramatic last spin beeping its end of cycle announcment: “now. Now. NOW.”

Plus for good measure the slow cooker, a bit of a hussy, chimed in with a slow seductive beep to tell me: “I’m finished cooking now and will be over here keeping dinner warm.” 

“You look busy,” said Mr. Obvious.

“Yes. You could help,” said I as I opened the dishwasher door to let the steam out while dashing past him stopping momentarily to reposition the color chart into the sunshine on my way to rescue the clothes from the dryer.

“Pretty please with sugar on top,” I added because I’m a polite woman* who by then was struggling with the wet towels in the washing machine that didn’t want to go into the dryer without a fight.

SO WHAT DID HE DO? In what way did he help?

With a devilish smile and an ornery gleam in his eye he picked up the catalogue on the counter, moseyed over to the kitchen table where the light was better and said, “you’d look good in the light blue t-shirt.”

Which is true, but really? That’s helping?

And with that commentary, my friends, I’ll leave this tale of marital bliss– or what passes for it around here.

HONESTLY…

Any of this sound familiar to you?!! 🤨

* I’m baffled by something. If you’re on a Keto diet and have given up on sugar do you say: pretty please with bacon on top? Or butter on top? Or suet  on top?  How do you rework that polite phrase so it has meaning for you?

A Character Study: Justifying Your Rationale About Doing A Tango With The Truth

/ Ally Bean / 155 Comments

~ INTRODUCTION ~

I NEVER INTENDED TO write about this person, she’s someone I knew a long time ago.  I’d guess that I haven’t been in touch with her for over a decade, maybe longer.

I got thinking of her because I found one of her business cards wedged in the back of my desk drawer.  I’m surprised I kept it, to be honest– but there it was and memories of her flooded into my brain.

So here’s a story, a character study if you will, of a pleasant someone who had her own unique way of rationalizing that which she said and felt no shame about telling, what were ostensibly, falsehoods.

• • •

ONCE UPON A TIME I knew a lovely woman who introduced me to a college acquaintance of hers;  I shall call this acquaintance Nedra.  The lovely women moved away but out of respect for her, Nedra and I still got together for coffee every few months.

Our relationship was superficial, but delightful at first.  Nedra and I had interests in common, reading and healthy eating.  She was dating at the time and had funny stories about her experiences.  I was remodeling the kitchen and had ridiculous stories about my experiences.

All would’ve been well IF I hadn’t come to realize that Nedra was making up stories about her love life. And her career. Stories that she told me, doing what I’d describe as, a tango with the truth.

• • •

I STUMBLED OVER THIS dance with reality while we were having coffee one day.  I hadn’t seen her in a while and I asked her about a guy she’d been on a date with, a date that she’d described in detail months before.

Well, she looked confused, baffled by my question– and told me I must be wrong about her, that she’d never been on a date like that.  Clearly I was mistaken.

Except I wasn’t. I’m not that addled-brained. I remembered quite specifically her conversation and joyfulness vis-à-vis this date. That hadn’t happened, but she said it had. Uh huh.

• • •

AS YOU CAN IMAGINE after that conversation I became more disinclined to believe what Nedra said to me, but I was intrigued because I’m a curious person who pays attention to people– and here was a character for me to watch.

Up close and in action, so to speak.

Time passed, like a year or so, and I was to a point where I didn’t want to meet Nedra for coffee anymore.  Beyond her propensity to make up stories, I no longer needed to be in her part of town on a regular basis so getting together with her was a chore.  On many levels.

Still, I wanted to know more about her reasoning for making up stories: why she did it and, you know, if she experienced any remorse about deviating from the truth. So I asked her, politely, tactfully, why she made up stories about her life and this is where it got really interesting.

• • •

NEDRA BELIEVED THAT BY making up stories about her life she was showing people how to make themselves whole.  She was, she felt, merely using her fictional tales to guide people to make better decisions about themselves.

She justified this by saying that when you think about it, scripted TV shows and movies were often fabricated stories that we accept as having a real impact on our minds, hearts, psyches.  We believe the stories and accept the messages contained within.

Therefore she was doing the same thing with her stories on a smaller, more personal, scale so that she could help people become more self-aware and feel empowered to do better. And as such she felt no guilt for what some of us might call lying.

• • •

Have you met anyone like Nedra who does a tango with the truth?

Do you think she has a point about scripted TV & movies being basically lies so why not do it too?

Was she naive or manipulative?

Have you found a business card from someone you lost touch with and got thinking about them, for better or for worse?

~ THE END ~