October 19th, 2016 - Inspiration, Motivation, and Persperation

Hey guys!

As part of my Bean v. 5.0 improvement plan, thing, whatever, the gym is becoming an integral part of my daily routine. I daresay that what once used to be an intimidating place has now become a place of refuge. It's not often I get to just have time to myself, to worry about myself, and to blast my music (which now consists of an absurd amount of country songs that are motivating, heartbreaking, and twinge-worthy*). In the gym, I don't have to worry about anything beyond what I'm doing in that moment. If I'm running, by god I will run; if I'm lifting, by god will I give it my all.

Honestly, this was a long time coming. I feel like nothing teaches you perseverance (for the average folk like myself) better than the gym. I might not have had much adversity in my life, and because of that I feel like I easily just give in and give up too easily. At the gym, that's not allowed. If that treadmill says run for 30 minutes or 60 minutes, girl, knees to chest! I love it.

Now that my time and thoughts are less consumed (key word: LESS) by Alan, I have a lot more motivation to do what I want. Before, even though he was gone a lot, I didn't particularly want to linger around campus, let alone go to the gym. Why? Because why would I want to hang around a crowded school campus where my anxiety is always there in the back of my mind like some kind of brain static? Especially when I knew that I could go back to his place - a place that had become my own little safe haven, away from parents, family, and peers - and just hide. Like I mentioned before, if I didn't have to go anywhere, for the rest of the day, I would just go back to what I considered my second home. And that was wrenched from me before I could say "Harry Potter".

As a result, I need to find other ways to keep me away from my parents' house because I don't have a home. That quote where they're like, "Home is where the heart is" like no, girl. Home is where you can be wholly yourself. Where your mind isn't going 100km/h and where every little thing doesn't make you jump; where you can vegetate in peace and where you can double chin all you want and walk around with no pants or even no clothes on at all. Home is where you are comfortable, and right now, I'm most comfortable in my car. So I guess that's my home.

Being jobless right now sucks. I might have to tuck my tail between my legs and go back to a job I'd walked out on two years ago now because even though the drama sucked, the pay was good and so were the hours (albeit long, at least I had hours). And I was good at what I did while I was there. And I burned that bridge for Alan. Because it was that weekend when we went on the Best-Worst camping trip of my life and I will never regret that. I do regret just not showing up for my last two shifts, but I feel like I got along with everyone still there well enough that if I prove to them I am a hard worker and that I will never put a man before my job, it should work out? But this is a last resort plan. For now, today is dedicated to handing out resumes in person and going from there.

I'll continue on with these daily diary type of posts, mostly for my benefit, I think they're really good for my own personal growth and healing, and I'd like to look back on this time in my life one day and smile because it will be moments like this that I'll be able to say that I didn't get burned by the fire, but became the flame.



Love and Light,

A. Bean




*twinge-worthy: similar to cringe worthy but less cringe more twinge. Like a slight pang in your heart or a poke at your ribs.

PS - Joe Brock on Instagram is wonderful, and unfortunately his posts are quite lengthy and wouldn't mesh well with the little quotes I like to spread out on this blog, but if you have a moment, please check him out! His words are everything my heart feels and more.
PPS - In addition to quotes, I'll also be doing songs because those help my heart a lot too. Right now, they are mostly country because a) Alan loved Chris Stapleton; b) I actually find him to be one of the best country artists personally - even though Alan was the one to introduce me to him and his awesomeness; c) honestly safe to assume that 99% of the country music featured on this blog is thanks to Alan.

October 18th, 2016 - The Ring...Among Other Things

Hey guys!

I'm sitting here in class while I write this - very productive, I know. I've got a peppermint tea - it's supposed to be calming - and a double chocolate chip muffin - from the useless groceries I'd bought last Thursday. This morning sucked. All of my most worn/liked clothes are still bundled up in my blanket on my car. I walked out the house at 6:45 AM in nothing but *Alan's flannel shirt and my sneakers. I had to put my pants on in my freezing car - my leggings being even more frozen than the snow on the lawn - and my winter footwear now resides in a box in the shed. Because I was supposed to be staying with Alan. Last night was the first night I've spent at home in two months. Maybe more. Two and a half? Christ.

Some days will better than others. It's weird to be talking with him again so soon. And this time it's me reaching out rather than vice versa. We talked about our relationship and our many faults (he has baggage; I put others before myself). We talked about work and school and life and movies....I think it's fucked up, but I think he likes us, and wants me, more when we aren't "dating" per se. I don't know what's happening, or how this affects him, but me? I know I'm so messed up for even considering another sexcapade with him.

I wear his ring around my neck like some kind of sick trophy.

I don't know what I intend to do with it in the future - it fits none of my fingers. But it's meaning...what it symbolizes is why I took it. It's like a physical relationship status ring. Wear one way, it means single; wear it another, it means in a relationship; wear it a different way, it means engaged; and another way it means married. And when we were together - while he'd stopped wearing for a few months - every time he wore it, he wore it in the "single" position.
I knew what it meant. That he knew that I knew what it represented. After all, it was he that had explained it's meanings. Meanings which have stuck with me every time I looked at that damn ring. To add insult to injury, he'd wear the ring along with the watch I'd bought him for Christmas. A watch that I took, but will give back. I took the watch, ring, and scotch out of pettiness, but while all of those things are useless to me, I'm keeping the ring. The watch and scotch I'll return. I can't bring myself to sell the watch to anyone else. It doesn't belong with anyone else. Whatever he chooses to do with it after is up to him - he did keep it after the first breakup, although he also acquired the ring at the same time.

We spoke the other night - he's back on my social media, and while all I want to do is tag him in cute puppy videos, I remain unsure of where this "friendship" draws the line. I've never been friends with an ex. Certainly not one I'm in love with because I've never loved anyone like I love him. Not that I have a vast amount of relationship experience, but it wouldn't be my first "first time" doing something with him.
At any rate, we are planning on hanging this weekend. Follow me on Twitter to keep up to date on when I will have my post up regarding the weekend shenanigans that will undoubtedly ensue.
Follow @aly_bean

Love and light,

A. Bean

Song of the day:

*Name was changed

"Wow, You're So Exotic"

Hey guys!

So, I realize it's a bit ironic for me to do a rant-type post after just going on about self-improvement, but, like I said in my last post, old habits tend to die hard, and I am a very stubborn individual. Also old, so you know, old dogs and new tricks don't go together. But, I have justified this post in convincing myself it is for the greater good. Also, it just really, desperately needs to be addressed. I was going to do a video on this topic simply because my mouth moves faster than my fingers, as do my thoughts, but my background is kind of shady, and the whole video would be an hour long rant. This has the semblance of more structure, I think.

For those who don't know, I am biracial. My mom is Vietnamese, and my dad is Canadian (read: a whole mishmash of cultures where there is some percentage of Scandinavian and some percentage of Aboriginal and some percentage of Ukrainian. I think.) I only offer this information because it is pertinent to the discussion and gives me some amount of authority on the topic. Otherwise, my race shouldn't - and doesn't - really matter.

Since reaching adulthood and branching off into a world outside of my parents' circle of influence, I have been confronted more now than ever about my race. From questions like "What are you?" and "Where are you from?" they get more and more intrusive depending on the person asking them.
These are all usually asked before my name is even known or is usually the next question after "What's your name?" To go up to a person who looks, and I'm purposely being generic here, white, and ask them where they are from is laughable and ridiculous. Well, the same thing when I'm asked where I'm from. I am from Canada, I was born here. I have never permanently moved anywhere else - I had a two year stint in Ontario, if you recall from my earlier posts. I am a human being, that is what I am. More specifically, then, if that doesn't satisfy the question, I am a biologically female human being. Not a martian, surprise! I am exactly what you are, so when I am asked, "What are you" you can only imagine my shock, amusement, and annoyance. The other person's reaction is even more laughable when I answer that I am human and that I am Canadian.

People say"what are you" or "where are you from" as a means to be more politically correct, but what they don't realize is that to even ask the question damns them. I won't fault their curiosity, but at the same time, why does it matter what my race is? I am fully aware that I maybe don't look like a "typical" white girl (again I am being very general and loose with that term). I am also very self conscious of that fact and when it is pointed out to me, I feel even more awkward. Which I shouldn't. I am very proud of who I am and where my parents are from and I love my culture. Both of them.

Being mixed race is hard enough as it is - you feel like you don't belong anywhere - without having people interrogate you about it.

That lengthy backstory brings me to what I really wanted to discuss which is the use of the word "exotic" when referring to someone "not from here". For the purpose of this post, we will use "not from here" to refer to people who are not physically different (either in skin tone, hair texture, eye shape, etc.).
The other night while I was at work, near the end of my shift, a single middle aged gentleman(ish) walked in - he's clearly "from here" - and as I approached him, he asked about my hair texture (naturally curly) to which he seemed to enjoy - apparently he has a "thing" for curly haired gals (ew...) - and then asked about my race - again using the standard "where are you from" line - to which I replied as nicely as possible - because despite hating my job I still need my job - that my mother is from Vietnam and my dad is from here with some sort of Scandinavian background - hence my accursed curls. He widened his eyes in delight, ooohed and ahhhed over my race and proclaimed me "exotic".

PS - Dude, if you're reading this by some gross chance and sick twist of fate, I might work in a restaurant, but I still have a small miniscule shred of dignity left that I guard like a starving, rabid dog over a masticated bone. In other words, I don't want/need a sugar daddy. Yet. And when/if I do need one, I certainly won't be asking you to step up.

Upon being called exotic, I nearly threw up in my mouth. But, because I am great at my job, forced a tight lipped smile and proceeded to avoid eye contact and approaching his vicinity for the duration of my shift. I am not "exotic". I am not some imported rarity. I am a person, not a thing, and I think that is my biggest issue when I am faced with this question of race. I feel like a thing. An exotic thing that is there only to be admired and ooohed and ahhed over.
The problem with this is that I am reduced to being a thoughtless inanimate object. Which sort of sets back decades of feminist movements and advances. Hey, Emma Watson, speak up for the "exotic" people, too, okay?

When someone is reduced to being just "exotic" my ideas, dreams, pursuits, goals, and thoughts are irrelevant. Because I am exotic. I am like a Siberian Tiger placed in a zoo. Just there to be looked at and cared for and never free. I deserve to be more than caged. I deserve to be more than "exotic". Or a car. Cars are also described as exotic. I am, sadly, not a transformer.

This is a problem not just with strangers, but also in my sad pursuit of love. Boys only want me because I am exotic, men only want to creep on me, and I am left stranded in the middle, wanting neither. I deserve respect.

Not really, but you get the idea....

And that is something I thought was my right as a human being. But I guess in the eyes of mainstream "from here" society, all I will ever be is "exotic".

Love and Light,

A. Bean

PS - Leave your thoughts, comments, and experiences below! Am I alone in feeling this way? Have you ever been called exotic or has your race ever been questioned?

On Halloween

Hi guys! It's that time of year again!

The time of year when we all gather round and decide which mask to don and display to the public. The time where girls decide to be ironic or sexy, cute or funny. The time where boys decide they can be muscular macho men or perverted old men. Whether you decide to be scary or funny or cute or sexy is up to you. The Halloween store is your oyster, so go be a pearl.

It's been debated and argued about over and over again on social media. Have costumes for girls/tweens/teens/women become too scandalous?

Truthfully, we know they are. Obviously kids should have the opportunity to be kids, but whether or not we allow them to be is another thing. Personally, I've always erred on the side of being cute on Halloween rather than sexy, simply because it is not in my nature to be overly sexual. That's not my personality.

Much scare

While we like to see Halloween as a time to hide who we really are, I think it's a time that people actually reveal who they really are. Barring the numerous murderous clowns, serial killer costumes, and zombie outfits. I'm assuming most of the population isn't running around with a serial killer-clown-zombie alter ego. But girls who are comfortable wearing thigh high fishnets and a tiny pouffy skirt when they're fourteen only prefaces to the kind of person they'll grow up to be. (Sorry, girls, you have a lot of growing up still do to.) I am all for body positivity and doing whatever makes you happy and being confident in yourself, but up in Canada, if you're wearing those tiny skirts and fishnets, that ain't fooling anyone.

Also, can we just talk about how expensive it is to buy those tiny costumes? For a mere handful of cheap fabric and itchy crinoline, you're looking at upwards of $60 CDN. Even Value Village won't sell you a "whole"(-ish) costume for less than $50 CDN if you want the whole thing. To piece it together by yourself would be a lot cheaper. It also involves a little work and creativity, but I think it's worth it in the end. Nobody wants to be a Karen:

Too many Mean Girls gifs? YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE!

Parents, I'm not one myself, but please, if you don't want your little girl to dress like Regina, then don't fork over the money to buy them a costume you don't think is appropriate. My parents never failed to miss an opportunity to remind me that so long as they hold the purse strings, I'm pretty much putty in their hands. (Despite my many efforts to become an anarchist and resist authority - Sorry, Mom and Dad).

The only place where dressing "too sexy" is a a huge issue is when costumes are geared for girls under we'll say 15 cause after that, chances are peer pressure is a scary thing. Ultimately, I feel like parents have a huge impact on whether or not their child dresses "sexy". People can tout the body positivity speech all they want, but actions speak louder than words, so don't bash other women whose bodies may not suit the conventional notions of what it means to be "sexy". Let's all just support each other this year and not judge anyone for choosing the costumes they'll be sporting this year. Mind blowing, I know.

Just the other day, I was browsing around the Halloween store, looking for some inspiration for a sexier Captain America/American Dream Girl outfit when I noticed a little boy who was between 8-10, scrutinizing a sexy Snow White outfit. That was super weird. As soon as I began perusing down the aisle, he guiltily dropped the costume and ran to his mom. So, I think the impact of the "sexy" costume isn't just a thing that impacts females, but also males. Explore your sexuality however you want, but kids ought to have a chance to be kids and if that means hiding the sexy princess costumes and giving more clear boundaries, then why not?

Adults can be sexy, and kids don't have to be exposed to it. That's that. All in all friends, be safe,  do you, and have a happy halloween. 

Leave a comment or post a pic on what you're being for Halloween this year and don't forget to follow and share this blog if you like the content! 

XOXO

-A. Bean

This year, I'm being the American Dream Girl, and the BF is Captain America ;)

30 Happy Things Challenge

30 Happy Things Challenge 

What is it? 

For 30 days, you will write one thing you are good at on a post it note and take a photo of the note to post on Instagram with the two hashtags #30HappyThings and #ABean so I can find your photo easily and assemble a video of the best ones to post on YouTube ! 

It's one note per day and it can be creative, lame, ordinary, funny, simple, it doesn't matter as long as it means something to you. 

When you're done writing the note and taking the photo, out the note in a jar, box, or container of some sort. This will provide a nice little burst of happy on your down days. 

It also forces you to think on what your talents are and that you are not limited to just a few "common" things to be good at like school, art, math, science, cooking, etc. anything you think you are good at qualifies. 

Goal:

Be creative (or don't it's up to you), have fun, and help promote happy thoughts!

Why:

I was going to do 100 days or make it a summer long thing, but that's just way too much commitment so it rapidly shrank from 91 days to 61 days and then finally, I settled on 30.

I'll be doing this challenge in June when I believe I'll have the time to commit to the challenge. Feel free to start the challenge whenever you want, I'll be regularly checking the #ABean #30HappyThings tags on Instagram for photos to put in the video. Also feel free to tag me @aly_bean1 on Instagram so I can find your photo faster. If it's popular enough there will be a monthly happy things video. 

It's no secret that being thankful and grateful for the people and things around us makes people a lot happier and mentally sound. But that was all too common a thing, since I know a few people already write things they are thankful for in journals and whatnot. I decided to do 30 days of notes saying what I'm good at was a way to boost confidence and the happy feels. I feel like it's too often people are self deprecating or too humble about their skills when they should acknowledge that there is something that they are good at. Hopefully this will decrease the amount if compliment fishing that can be found on social media too. 

No one wants to feel like a failure, so this challenge is supposed to make everyone who participates take pride in themselves. 

From personal experience, I can tell you that going months upon months of bad luck, one happy thought makes a huge difference. 

What you need:

Writing utensils

Post it notes

Instagram

A box/jar/container (feel free to decorate it!

Steps:

Take your note

Grab your pencil

Start the note with "I am good at..."

Grab your phone

Position your note wherever and however you want 

Snap the photo

Instagram #30HappyThing and #ABean

Put the note in your jar for a gloomy day

Repeat for 30 days! 

All the best of luck! 

XOXO

A. Bean