I made it to Seattle. In perfect timing to meet up with Scottie and celebrate the day of his birth — actually one hour early.

I wandered downtown. I was wearing my dad’s camo coat because it was raining — and alternating with SNOW. (Thanks, Seattle.) I felt like people were staring at me and giving me weird looks. This alienation was the first time I’d felt lonely on the entire trip. Hours and hours of driving on isolated coastal highway alone, no problem. One hour in the city alone, so alone. So thankful I didn’t just spend the whole first week in SanFran alone. I’d have cried myself to sleep.

But soon I met up with Scott and his gf. We spent the rest of the night with friends of his, celebrating him. It was so wonderful to see that he was well taken care of and so fun to meet his friends.

The next morning, we talked and talked in his kitchen — first over breakfast and about two hours later over lunch. He’s a good friend with whom deep conversation is a given. It was a good turnaround visit on the journey. More fodder for the drive south.

We talked more as we slogged through sand at Golden Gardens Park, where last March we and three other Omaha friends had made a campfire on the beach. Today was a dreary, stereotypical Seattle day. I knew there were mountains across the Sound, but we sure couldn’t see them.

Next, we went to a class at Mars Hill, where Scott is studying psychology. Dan Allender, one of the founders of the school, was the professor. It seems like a pretty amazing school, and I know some pretty amazing people who have graduated from it. I mean, you know it’s a good class when a post-finals make-up class is 80% attended.

I took notes. I cried. And I’m not even looking to do this with my life.

Here are a few things I heard.

1. Dissociation comes from desire – because you’re afraid it won’t be met.
2. When you’ve come through a dark time and you start to feel hope again, you might find yourself fighting against it. You’ve felt so much disillusion that these new illusions are making you anticipate the dissing.
3. Endings are engagements with death.

The first makes so much sense it seems a universal truth.

Point two gave me greater understanding for myself. I have begun to feel hope again, but it’s been countered by depression. It’s a seesaw. And it all makes sense.

Number three made me nervous, because I’m not that great at endings. I have a really hard time saying goodbye, and I always want to hold onto things. I wondered what it might mean down the road.

That was the big BCS bowl game night, so we lightened the mood by going to watch the game at a sports bar with Tom and Vincenzo, whom I’d met the night before. Pizza slices bigger than an 8.5×11 sheet of paper. Heaven.