Hello Red Heart Emoji, Bye-Bye Mary Jane

November 4, 2015February 11, 2016 / Ally Bean / 28 Comments

YESTERDAY PEOPLE IN MY WORLD talked about two diverse topics: 1) Twitter icon, acceptance of new “like” paradigm and subsequent “heart” emoji; & 2) marijuana, legalization for all uses of said within our state.

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Screenshot from my Twitter feed.

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ALL DAY WHEREVER I WENT, online or in real life, I read or heard a variety of points of view about the above two issues. Everybody had a strong opinion, sometimes logic-based, often loudly stated, but freely given.

Thus in the spirit of being a transparent blogger, and a pleasant real life human being, I’ll tell you what I think about these two topics. That followed me like a lost puppy everywhere I went yesterday.

I don’t really care.

I have no strong opinion about either of these issues.

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WHICH IS NOT TO SAY that I’m ignorant nor waffling under the strain of deciding what I think. No, it’s just saying that because something happens in my world, does not mean that I have a strong opinion about it.

I have preferences, but being an introvert I often keep them to myself. Or only share them with people close to me. Like you, my gentle readers.

To wit, here are my preferences about yesterday’s topics: 1) I’m not thrilled to be an adult using a cutesy emoji to communicate that I like something a fellow adult has said on Twitter; & 2) I’m not for the carte blanche legalization of marijuana sold through ten monopolies.

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Story here.

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I GET THAT PEOPLE ARE frustrated by intractable problems in this world, so they overreact to smaller issues believing they have control over them. But yesterday, y’all outdid yourself dithering and worrying about icons and pot.

Kind of gave me a headache, if you want to know the truth of it all.

And I have to wonder, once again, why I bothered to pay attention to the people spouting off about these issues. Will I never learn to ignore the babble?

Revisiting The Intentional Sobriety Experience

October 20, 2015January 28, 2021 / Ally Bean / 27 Comments

Today will be 6 weeks since I stopped drinking alcohol. And “NO,” I didn’t join AA. But I did decide to stop drinking for three months to see what it’s like to be a sober adult in social situations.

So far I’m finding that it’s boring.

First of all, there’s nothing to look forward to on the weekends. [Oh Barkeep, I’ll have a cranberry juice, please.]
Plus there are no more sparks of creative thinking while inebriated. [What to write, what to write… why can’t I think of something??!]
And, not to put too fine a point on this, there’s no way to politely tune-out the dull peoples when you’re sober. [Dear lord, is that boring man still talking to me?]

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My decision to be alcohol-free came about by accident. On Labor Day afternoon as Zen-Den and I sat outside, drinking the last alcoholic beverages in the house, it occurred to me that I was *duh* sipping the last beer.

We were out of our staples, beer + bourbon + wine.

Z-D was leaving that week for his annual Canada camping trip with his friends, then he was traveling for work most of the rest of the month.

I realized that I’d be on my own most of the time in September, and in that moment it dawned on me this would be a great time to revisit the intentional sobriety experience, something I dabbled in for a few years, a decade ago.

Back then it was difficult for me.

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At this point I’d love to tell you that I’m a better person because of my decision to not drink. That I feel healthier and more alive. Filled with clear thoughts and a strong connection to those people around me.

But I’m too sincere to lie like that.

Despite taking in fewer alcohol calories, I weigh the same as before. So there’s no news of that front.

And despite being an introvert, I haven’t felt any social pressure to drink this time around, confirming that I don’t need alcohol to feel comfortable among the peoples of this world.

No, the only concrete change that I can see is financial. That is, reduced grocery bills and smaller restaurant checks. Nothing to sneeze at, but nothing of much spiritual significance either.

• • •

Obviously I have 6 more weeks to go with Project Intentional Sobriety. I don’t know how I’ll hold up under the upcoming plethora of social activities we’ve planned, but I’m thinking, based on what has unfolded so far, that I’ll do okay.

It might be that not drinking is no big deal for me.

Coming from the WASP-y family that I do, and begging their forgiveness here, I admit that the words above are about as close to an anathema as one can get.

But I said them and I mean them.

People change all the time, right? So maybe, for at least these few months, I am a new Ally Bean. Bored. With a bit more coin in my pocket. But happy that I’ve trusted my instincts to explore this way of living again.

For a while.

When It Comes To Blogging, Sometimes I Wonder About You People…

October 6, 2015August 29, 2018 / Ally Bean / 30 Comments

ACCORDING TO THE stats provided by WordPress, the following is when you, my gentle readers, most often show up here to read The Spectacled Bean.

I’m happy to have loyal readers, make no mistake. Fans, followers and lurkers are good. But as much as I enjoy writing and connecting with you, I’m a little nonplussed about the day and time that you are most likely to be here.

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AS THE FOLLOWING shows, this is a blog written by an well-meaning, but slightly scattered, writer, who according to Typealyzer, is an artist. This, I do believe, explains how it is that I started to write this post, intending to publish it today, Tuesday, at 8:00 am, but failed to do so, thereby risking the chance of disappointing you, my gentle readers.

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SO I ASK of you, my gentle readers, what say ye about showing up here, oh say, an hour later– at 9:00 am? And allowing for the possibility that Wednesday or Thursday make lovely most popular days of the week?

Not that I want to be the sort of blogger who tells you what to do, but I think you people are crazy. Tuesday? [Tolerable, if we must.] 8:00 am? [Decidedly uncivilized.]

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I Ask You: Where Are My Toad Lilies? Hmmm?

October 1, 2015October 1, 2015 / Ally Bean / 20 Comments

• I allowed myself to hope.

When it comes to gardening, I’m usually more cerebral than heartfelt.

I don’t assume that just because I plant something, it’ll thrive. Instead, I focus on those plants that get with the program and grow.

Like this cute little tree in the concrete urn that I can see out the window from our study.

• But there’s something missing from this photo.

Around the base of this cute little tree there are supposed to be 5 toad lilies, which I bought last spring for an outrageous amount of money from an allegedly honest garden nursery catalogue [which I’m not linking to here because I don’t want to advertise for the company].

• I know that toad lilies can grow here.

Years ago, before the front planting beds were re-landscaped, there was a thriving toad lily in this exact location.

That’s why I planted them, right there, uniformly around the base of the concrete urn, anticipating autumnal beauty whilst gazing out my window.

• But do you, gentle readers, see any thriving toad lilies?

Or do you, like me, see one scraggly looking wisp of a plant, barely hanging onto life?

That, my friends, is what $60.00 will get you when you dare to believe the copy in a catalogue. A catalogue that should be named: A Sucker Is Born Every Minute Garden & Nursery Store Catalogue For The Easily Gullible.

Because, really, that’s what the catalogue is all about.

Or so it would seem to me, Ms. Gullible.