Introvert

Revisiting The Intentional Sobriety Experience

/ 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?]

• • •

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.

• • •

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.

New Year’s Resolution, Mid-Year Clarification Of Said

/ Ally Bean / 11 Comments

AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS…

Yes, I know that I declared 2015 to be the Year of the Recluse.

I know that I said that I’d not be doing things social.  But sometimes, even an introvert such as myself, wants to do something with a friend or two.

So I’m a failure at following through with my New Year’s Resolution.  Like you’re so good at doing in July that which you said that you’d do in January?

Hmmm?  How are you doing with your resolutions?

# # #

To clarify, when I said that I’d be a recluse this year what I meant was that I was going to avoid reunions, anniversary/holiday dinners, birthday bashes– and having a Christmas party here at the house.

[That last one in particular.]

So when it comes to those sorts of things, I’m a recluse.  But when it comes to other activities I’m kinda out there socializing all over the place this year.

Well, I’m always kinda out there, but you know what I mean!

…AND NOW BACK TO OUR SHOW

The Bean Abides

/ Ally Bean / 40 Comments
A Poem on the Occasion of the Beginning of my 12th Year in the Blogosphere

• • •

DSCN2146

• • •

I started small because I didn’t know,

What to expect from this blogging show.

My friends in real life ignored my blog dream,

It made me so mad that I wanted to scream.

But continuing on I wrote each day,

Knowing that others would head this way.

• • •

My mantra simple, my goals were clear:

Give the readers a story to cheer.

“I will not whine, nor over-share,

I will show up and rarely swear.

I am authentic, I refuse to mock, 

I enjoy learning, and taking stock.”

• • •

Perspicacious am I, willing to share,

Light of heart, but still I care.

Nuanced and nutty, in equal part,

I have been quirky, right from the start.

Stick-to-itiveness, I think you’ll agree,

Is the word that best describes me.

• • •

Free-spirited, niche-less, with content well-written,

Yet editors varied with me are not smitten.

No Freshly Pressed badge, will you see here,

It seems what I write, they just do not hear.

But now gentle readers, in you I confide,

No matter what happens, the Bean will abide.

• • •

A special thanks to la peregrina at Santiago Dreaming who’s been here with me from the beginning AND to Margaret at Stargazer who’s been around here for almost as long.  You both paid attention to me when no one else did– and helped me, a reserved introvert, gain the confidence to keep on writing.  Love you both.

[H/T to D. Parker at yadadarcyyada whose wonderful post “Why I Will Never Be Freshly Pressed” put me in a mind to write this poem.]

When Politeness Makes Me Uncomfortable

/ Ally Bean / 17 Comments

How hypocritical is it to thank someone for a kindness while simultaneously deciding to avoid him or her in the future?

This, I suspect, is an introvert problem.

Every so often I find myself in this situation with people who are nice enough people, but have values and ideas that don’t jive with my own.  Not outright bad people, mind you.  But people who wear me out with their limited thinking or inconsistent behavior.  Or incessant chatter.

Just too much, too much.

Each time I thank one of these people for his or her contribution/generosity/concern in regard to something or other, I feel uncomfortable.  This is because I know that in order to stay true to myself and my goals, I have no intention of maintaining a relationship with any of these people in the future.

That they are on the way out of my life.

However there I am, playing nice-y nice, and feeling like the pretense of each situation is an itchy old wool winter coat that I’ve outgrown, but have yet to give to Goodwill.  Leading me to conclude that what I’d describe as hypocrisy, like wool, makes me squirm, even when it is of my own doing.