Once More, With Feeling

"But if you're all about the destination,

The take a fucking flight.

We're going nowhere slowly,

But we're seeing all the sights."

-Frank Turner

I've started, stopped, and restarted this post several times in the last two days.  I've written a paragraph or two, deleted it, and then deleted the next two or three attempts at an opener as well.  I've gone against my own new rule of no longer letting the editing take place in my head over and over.  "What's the problem?" I keep asking myself.  "You know how to do this, why are you being so skittish?"  I have no reply.  I had a great weekend, celebrated (almost) 100 days in grand style, caught up with old friends, made one or two new ones, played about as well as I ever have, if not better (despite blowing out a reed on the harmonica), and helped usher in a new chapter in my daughter's life.

So here I go again, because in the spirit of what I've tried to make my life about recently, I refuse to simply give up and run away.  I've invested too much in myself and my well-being.  And quite frankly, I'm worth staying with it until I get it right.

Labor Day weekend saw the Gobshites back up in the Catskills at the Blackthorne Resort.  I haven't been there since Memorial Day, when I gave my demons free reign for the last time.  It was, in the vernacular of the addict, my "Jackpot."  I'm still hearing stories about things I have no memory of doing.  I'm still apologizing to people for my wanton recklessness and cringe-worthy behavior.  In many ways, I'm still beating myself up about the whole thing, reliving the weekend, and wishing I could go back and make different decisions.  But of course, I can't do that.  All I can do is move forward and try to atone for my prior bad acts somehow.

So I was a bit nervous about going back up, but not overly so.  I was excited to introduce Jess to the Blackthorne, and the Blackthorne to her.  She'd already met one or two of the regulars online, so she just needed to to put some voices with the names and faces that have presented themselves to her in recent months.

As chance would have it (or maybe it was Karma), we ended up in the very same room where, 96 days previous, I had lain crumpled up in the bottom of the shower and made the decision to stop drinking once and for all.  Full circle, as it were.  The Universe was giving me a chance to get it right this time.  We'd brought a cooler full of iced tea for me and Tab for her, and enough people knew the deal so that I wasn't tempted with free pints left and right.  Was it weird to be there watching everyone lift their stouts and cheer while I (literally) tea-totalled it?  Sure, a little.  But I'm used to being around people drinking, and it hasn't been a problem.

As per usual it was a raucous, fun-filled weekend, with lots and lots of music and laughs.  Jess met the crew, the crew met Jess, and everyone had a good time.  For us, the weekend had to be cut short in order to get back home to Massachusetts so we could help my daughter move in to her new dorm room.  I was a commuter in college, so I never experienced the organized chaos that is moving day.  A veritable mosh pit of students, parents, and their stuff greeted us on Sunday morning (after a two hour nap preceded by a three and a half hour drive home, and another hour or so from home to Salem).  We managed to get everything into her room in two trips.  A stop for some last minute supplies and a quick stroll down by the waterfront, and we were on our way back home to relax and annoy the cat for a while until we both passed out.

We spent yesterday at the 10th annual Boston Tattoo Convention.  I've never been to this one, and it was by far the biggest convention I've been to (of the four).  Tons of artists and vendors, and terrific artwork and a definite feast for the eyes.  Neither of us got any work done, but I got a lot of business cards and a bunch of idea for future ink.  Just need to improve my cash flow situation, and I can expand the gallery into new wings...

I woke up this morning with 100 days under my belt.  I feel great.  I still (STILL!) need to get into a regular workout routine, and find a way to supplement my income, but the past 100 days have seen a slew of changes in my outlook and perspective, not to mention my health, both physical and mental.  Am I apt to fall back into negative thought patterns?  Sure, life's not a faerie tale, and bad moods happen.  But 100 days is nothing to brush aside.  I'll be celebrating a little more tonight, and looking forward to the next 100 days.

And the 100 after that, and so on...