Week 4 of 52 in the rebuilding of Ben Quam

Saturday, September 18th 2010

"The La Crosse Chapter begins"

I got keys to my apartment today. Brought my clothes over and planned out my room layout a bit, unpacked my cleaning/bathroom stuff, and just sat down for a second. It is an absolutely HUGE place, and it's got the "dark, old wood with hardwood floors" feel from every corner. But as I sat there thinking about the meals I'm going to cook and the memories I'm going to make, I couldn't help but feel lonely.

It's not that I miss XM. As I said in the last blog, I finally broke through and realized that it wasn't HER that I missed, it was having someone there. I lost my partner, and then moved to a city here I know 2 people, one of whom is my roommate. I know I'll meet plenty of new friends, but I'm a kid who thrives on instant gratification. I want them all...NOW.

It is odd how tearing most of your comfort zones away manifests itself. I was in Madison on business for the night on Wednesday, and when I got back to the hotel I turnd on the TV and read for awhile. Then, without realizing what I was doing, I got up and grabbed the blankets off the queen-size bed and curled up on the couch. I'm in a hotel with a plush, pillow-topped, queen-sized bed...and I'm laying on the couch like this isn't weird.

I'm not sure what that means, but it's the 3rd time I've caught myself doing it. Do I not deserve a bed? Is it too big for just me? Once I realize it, I crawl back into the bed every time and sleep wonderfully. The subconscious mind plays some fun little tricks from time to time.

I think that's been the hardest (and hopefully last) pill to swallow in all of this. Looking in the mirror and realizing all the things that you shushed away, the cracks in the wall you just painted over, the things you know are killing you/your relationship that you just walk past like each of them are a panhandler looking for change. All of these red flags pop up, and you make up an excuse for each and every one. Getting left that high and dry is hard, but that ship was sinking...I was just too busy playing violin on the ship deck to care.

I will never stop looking in the mirror and keeping myself honest from here on out. I'm an unabashed romantic and a relentless dreamer, but I need to keep a few toes on the ground if I want to make my 30s into what my 20s probably should've been.

So, time to turn the page.

Our bar opened last night. In a town where functional alcoholism reigns supreme, our open bar crowd from 7-9 was rather sparse. We all started getting tense. Then, the 9-11 $2 drink crowd didn't really show. I started getting mad at my DJ equipment, the band started getting nervous, and my bosses started getting heated. This is my 15th bar opening, it always happens like this, but I always forget that. I start questioning if I know what I'm doing, second-guessing why I'm here...and then hear myself saying all that and laugh. I know what the fuck I'm doing. WE know what we're doing.

Bring it, LAX.

The band and I agreed that we'd just rock it like we do, and see what happens. A Jameson cheers and some profanity with smiles were exchanged, and away we went. And it happened. The entire city cleared out of the other 141 bars and came to see us. Singing along, hell yeahs, fuck yeahs, and socials. Success. Now to do it again tonight...

I've been really selfish for the last few months, and that sucks. I'm in a new city with a lot more time on my hands, and I'm realizing how awesome all of you out there are. Last Saturday I got one of the nicest compliments I've ever gotten from an old friend, and I was amazed how long a few simple words can help a bruised heart and an ailing ego. So, I'll try not to make it weird, but I'm really going to try to tell you all how awesome you are, one by one. Daunting, but compliments are fun. Yay.

Mad, LAX love,
BQ