The task is done and apocalypse is held back. No, I wasn't playing a video game. I told my father last night that I was going to Seattle. Two weeks of sweating bullets for a fifteen minute talk that can even be more condensed into. "I'm going to Seattle." "I'm not paying you a cent." "Dad, uh, that's the point." It's not that simple, of course.. but the opening volley hitting the mark with unexpected accuracy is also damn spooky. "Why are you telling me this, son?" "Because you are my dad, and oh, would you least keep covering my medical insurance." "That I will do." He didn't even yell at me. He did say the word "No!" in an emphatic sequence of nine repetitions. I think he might have been trying to guilt me into seeing how crazy he thinks this idea is, but all he did was tell me what I was going to use to win him over. But now, third of the four major obstacles are out of the way. But he did say the one thing that I know he has to say, and I have to accept... "If it doesn't work out, even if you are in the streets, I will not bail you out." I move and the safety net is gone from beneath me. When he said that, I found my hands trembling. Now, I am committed.

It's nights like this that if I could meet Soren Kierkegaard, I think I would nut him.