As I was driving home from Northwestern last night, it hit me that I only have one more day in Hinsdale. And as I was driving home last night, it hit me that every mile I drove was a mile farther from my hot boyfriend, and every minute I'm in that plane tomorrow is a minute farther from everything I know and love. Meghan made me an awesome CD (and got me a cool anthropologie picture frame-I know, she's awesome) that is jam-packed with all of our favorite songs. On the way to NU I was jammin like it was my job, but on the way home, the sound of our Toyota Ravioli, Scott, was just enough for me.

And to be honest, change is so damn scary. I guess I've always been one to blog about dreaming and "taking a leap of faith into the unknown" and not settling for comfort. Little did I know that one day I would look back at those blogs wondering how I could have felt that courageous. A good friend told me a couple days ago that I need to trust the process. To trust that I am where I need to be and that this seemingly messy change is beautiful and right.

And now I'm really rambling, but before I met up with Danny last night, I made a quick stop atDominicks to get 2 Pepsi Throwbacks (we like those). As I was getting my money out, a 6-pack of beer rolled up right in front of me, and I looked back into the eyes of a very drunk and sad man. "Back again!?" The check out lady asked him, and at that my heart broke.

And I don't know if encountering a drunk stranger or being afraid to go to college are related in any way, but as I was driving home last night, I felt like they were. Pain and heartache are all around, but so is the beauty of grace and the love of Christ saturating us with every staggered and drunk step that man walked home, and every scary minute I'm on the plane. Trust the process. And Seattle, lets do this.