Something shifted. He shifted in Jerusalem. He's open, he's calm, he can love and be loved. Today something shifted for me. He went his way, I went mine and I realised I don't want it to be like that. I want to be with him. To wake up together, to go to sleep together, to live life together. Being apart seems wrong and silly.

Pleasently smirking to myself after heart-warmingly amusing taxi-ride home. Young trendy-type bloke with ENOURMOUS retro-style glasses blaring out reshet bet radio. On comes Chicago: 'everbody needs a little time away'... It's his song. It's boyzone face-wincing, fist-clenching. I couldn't help it. I had to join in for the chorus: 'hard to say I'm sorry!' Both of us singing loud from our souls. Taxi bloke did the harmonies and I revelled in the Israeli lack of embarassment I have come to know and love. Taxi bloke in broken English: 'this is a beautiful love song right?' Gawd bless 'em!

I am sitting in a very quiet Tel Aviv. Hardly a car. It's dusk and the birds are getting quiet too. It's Erev Rosh HaShana (new year's eve). I love this pre-chag (festival) quiet. There is something sacrad in it - even in this sin city.

I feel calm.

I have a really good feeling about this next year. Optimistic. Good stuff is coming. There's gonna be the bad and the sad and the scary, but there's going to be good.

I can be known for not giving myself that much credit. Recording it in writing is a good thing.

This week was my two year 'Aliversary'. It feels different from the last one. I'm not in the glow of post-Aliyah Zionism. Life is more ordainary. Things are less new. But this week was a chance to take a step back and have a look.

Yes, sometimes things are really tough. Being so far away from my family is physically painful and I often think I am stupid for doing that to us. I miss my friends in England. I miss proper English. I miss pop-culture. I miss just 'getting it'. Having to back-step in my career is really demoralising. So much so that I am actually internalising the doubt they have in my professionalism. The stuff they want me to do is hard and long and in Hebrew. Tears are shed. It's been 2 years and it will likely be another 2 before I am back where I started in 2003.

But this week I was bloody proud of myself. I took my accounts from my private work to the accountant. He had convinced me to do the 2-monthly books myself on the internet and just come to him once a year for the major stuff. Maths and Hebrew on the internet. Oy. Turns out I did alright - perfectly infact. He even complimented my super-duper organisational system in my girly pink expanding file.

This week I also scored the Rorshach (the ink blot test I have to learn to do to re-qualify here). I did it in Hebrew. It is stupidly complicated. My supervisor said it seemed like it was my 8th rather than my 1st try. I was stunned.

Tonight I am going to a Lag B'omer bonfire on the beach. Yesterday I cooked a rather tasty Friday night dinner for 11 guests. I was pretty calm, the food tasted good and people had a laugh. I have 11 guests to invite; Israeli and ex-pat. I drive, I work, I speak, I play. It's so easy to focus on being over-worked, or misunderstood, tired or lonely. Sometimes I really have to say 'kol hakavod li' - I'm doing alright.

So I met a guy the other night and I can't get him out of my head. HILARIOUS. Laugh-out-loud-chuckle-gafaw hilarious. Clearly bright having the bonus of being a doctor and majorly in love with his family. Got on. Chemistry. The works.
But there is a 'but'...
He is white, he is really white. I have already made clear that brown boys get extra points. That white ones have to work that extra bit harder. But I think I could do white if he was cute. Do I think he is cute? He is white. Is that something to be overcome? Could he be a 'grower'? Is the game of pontoon still not over and I should risk an extra hit just in case I make 21?
Hmmmmmm....

My Mum and Dad have come over to visit. This time there is less touring and I am still somewhat working. This time it is not such a big deal and that's good. Like we are getting used to this long-distance thing and somehow managing to have an ordainary relationship. : )

My sister wrote this. It's perfect. Chagim continue to be hard. I continue to cry. Looking forward to when new traditions become the old and dysfunctional ones. But maybe I will just always miss the originals...

"we had a nice time last night. It was nice because it felt so warm to be emersed in a family. S's parents were lovely, his cousins were loud, S had silly arguments with his mum - it was great. I didn't tell S about our thing about cinnamon balls, but before we went in he told us not to be suprised if anyone begins to well up during dayanu! His grandmaother passed away and thats the bit that she was famous for, that made their passover, passover! So I think the reason that we all get upset at this time, like J and H who have family around them is that this is a special time of year, each family did it their way for over 25 years before boyfriends or husbands showed up. They don't have traditions yet. At the seder each family is totally natural, its naked, every family dynamic is displayed to the world, I've decided that every seder is dysfunctional its own way, and thats what we miss. Every family makes jokes about who reads which son, when to eat the egg (seth's family ate hard boiled potatoes in salt water too!) but if you're not at your family's seder the jokes are not quite right and so it becomes even more apparant that we are far away from each other, or that someone special is missing even if you are with imporant people. I'm doing ok this year, but its taken 4 seders away from home to not cry while making plans!"

Seder was lovely at JC's. Really lovely. But it is not the same. I guess that will get easier.

It was Israel vs England in the football tonight. I wore my 'cheers London' Union Jack T-shirt and my 'I heart Israel' underwear. I didn't know whether I was coming or going. I wanted to support England. But I couldn't quite help getting excited and sad for Israel. I reckon it was like being a mum watching her 2 sons compete. Feeling 'well done' and 'sorry love' at exactly the same time. Anyway, it was 0-0. I was sad generally about that. Was that win-win or lose-lose?

Salmon sandwich called after a couple of months not (and LK called this afternoon too - funny how these coincidences keep happening - when it doesn't rain it pours). Went for a cup of tea at the Hilton. Full of posh football fans. A strange warmth of nostalgia for me.

I am going to spend my life torn.

Put my journal on facebook. Think that means only friends can see it - I hope so anyway! Although it doesn't seem to add all the entries.

An eventful week or so...

1) Started new 'work' at 'Sh'. Was so overwhelmed by the Hebrew and the newness and the many hours in meetings. I don't know much about eating disorders so this is going to be a challange. But I feel excited by that. I feel good about this team - I think this is the route to my professional satisfaction. They are really passionate. Met my 2 'chochut' clients too. I LOVED them. I really think this clinic (and me) is going to help them. Think it is going to be fun too. Amazingly wrote my first report in Hebrew (a whole page!). Obvioulsy low level - but still bloody chuffed! (Then got an email saying I was supposed to fill out a form not write freestyle and was kick in the stomach a bit - lo nora).

2) Joined University gym. Fun to be around intelligent people. Going to be fit and going to breate in academia and ambition a bit. All good. Are 3 pools, sauna and steam room too which is great.

3) BASA. Bike got stolen. I loved that bike. No more to say on the one. I will simply buy another. Ain ma la'asot.

SA broke the ice and received the bonus. I feel so proud of her. She is a tough cookie. I love my job so much. I am honoured. I am proud of myself too. This is good work.

Today I got up and felt a lot different. Went to make ceramic mezuzah - turns out I am pretty creative. (Painted pictures a couple of weeks ago too - that shows you Miss Gear and your 3rd year art 'C' - they bloody looked like carrots!) Went to make use of my new TA university gym after. Ran for 10 min, skied for 2, swam 10 lengths, nearly made a sweat in the sauna, coughed in the steam room, leered at the beautiful man stretching, ineffectively showered with an inadequate amount of trail-size soap, then zoomed home to light candles and go to shul. Prepared and miracualously burnt a salad for H's birthday Friday night. Nice evening followed by a drink with H, TW and NG. Good people. Good for me.

I can't move through it. Went to PHR today to tie-up Ib. Closed. Will have to go back again. Panic. Couldn't breathe. Extreme sadness in my chest and stomach. I can't get over this. It is still with me. 4 hours now. I am just so sad. It is so awful. I can't even verbalise it. I don't think I will ever truly be ok with it. It is just wrong and bad. Don't know if to stay in. Go out. Who can I share this with? I can't do this alone. I don't know how to share it or who could. Nothing is closed. I don't know how to feel better. The tears are close but they don't come out. I am sort of dissacoiated yet hurting at the same time. Tortured. Unclosed. Wounded. Knowing I will survive, but wounded and tortured. I am Ib. I can't bear it is all I thought in the car. I know I can survive it. But I can't bear it. I miss him. I hurt for him. It's physical.

LK didn't call. Tossed and turned about it. Waste of procrastination. Sigh.

What a day. Filling at the dentist. Over-zealous anaesthesia. Microwaving pitta-exploding incident. Client arrived to flat-full of smoke and slightly dribbling psychologist. Did you know you can't do 'w' with a numb cheek. Bugger for the 'why's and 'what's of my prefession.

Followed by Dr's appt and laser. All in all I am appointmented out.

Won't pretend I am not dissapointed LK didn't call.

Weekend in the desert did me good. Getting the opportunity at S did me good. Feeling pretty upbeat and hopeful. Need to see the enourmity of the universe and the connections between. Need my old soul and my playful immaturity to mix.

Spent the weekend being Jewish in the desert. Festival of trees, but not so many down there. Nice though. Super-frum Chabadnik run, but nice. Particularly liked the ladies dance-of-vitality workshop. Kinda cool to see the sheital-clad bopping. Most impressed with the jolly Rabbi Amram. Gave a talk on music. He danced a lot. Particularly liked his African dancing (is this all appropriate?) Much into all the Kabballah and nature stuff too and its overlap with other spirtual stuff. Madonna make room ha ha!

I bought a few books, I'm going to read a little. Just a little. Maybe go to a few classes here and there. I need this. Tel Aviv will suck my soul otherwise.

The wind is changing. 'S' called. There is an opening at the eating disorders clinic. Am I free to start a trial period from Monday with a potential residency from end of Feb? She wants someone with experience in CBT and narrative work and to do psychodiagnostics! Bloody hell! Yipee!!

Yesterday I kept up in my unimaginabley complicated dancaerobic class for the first time in the two months I have been going. The first time I cried. Tears came out of my tearducts. The shame, the confusion, the frustration. Extremely gorgeous, fabulously homosexual instructer came over to reassure me that most of the class have been coming for a number of years and it will take time etc etc. Oy vay - a couple of years! For some reason (mostly because of his dragqueen cross Take That-esque lipsynch performances in front of the mirror to 'it's raining men') (and a smidgen of determined stubborness) I decided to pesevere. There were tearful and humiliating moments. They went left. I went right. The group shimmied. I sashayed. He meant grapevine, I thought cha cha. The ensemble of teeny-bopper, lycra-clad groupies wiggled their youthfully small bottoms in perfect time and I, with my memory of a goldfish, pitifully copied the girl in front one step behind the rest, until my less youthful body, my overworked memory and my bruised ego gave up - usally about 3/4 of the way through the class.

But yesterday...thanks to my stubborn-as-a-donkey persistance and the (possibly placebo) effect of my latest memory enhancers (gingko biloba and omega 3) which I have managed to remember to take for about 2 weeks now (it's like a bad joke)- I kept up! I did it! A whole class! Ok, so it was a repeat of the previous lesson. But that doesnt even help usually. I am so chuffed!

On top of that, today, had a marvellous class. Philosophy and epistemology of methodology in psychotherapy. Who would have bloody thought I could inderstand even the course title?! Now I can bloody teach it - in Hebrew. I can't believe it! Anyway. It went well. They are a GREAT class. I always tell them that I will continue some things next semester in the 'working with diversity' course (brilliantly fascinating one). Then today the powers-that-be told me that they cant change the timetable so that I can teach (I can only do afternoons if I get the job in T - PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE). It was clear they didnt really care. Someone else can etc. So I told the class - and there was uproar. Really. Mutiny. Revolution. A letter. A petition. They like me and I like them and I like teaching this stuff to them and I feel effetive! : )

Yay 'eze yofi'! I need to work more. It makes me feel so good and stops me from wallowing like I have been. I have come up with a new philosophy on life. All you need for meaning and contentedness is...

Creativity (in the widest sense)
Connection (in the most spiritually wide sense)
Giving (with a sense of being received)

Maybe I will write a book one day. I hereby copyright my revelation : )

Hmmm. Large ego today. Choosing to feel ok with that. Last week I felt like crap.

Finally I got around to changing my journal name. I feel much more comfortable now with a bit more anonimity. I am unabashadely open. I don't mind - but I guess others might.

So I chose 'pashut ani' (thanks SG!!) I really like it. 'Simply me' - just me with no need to apologise. Ups, downs, madness, boringness - me - I am all of that - and today that feels good.

I have not written for so long and the longer I leave it the harder it is. I have some storries, there have been some changes. I will get round to it I hope...

What a great evening! Went to the loopy belly dancing lady with Aussie TC. Marvellous. Lots of wailing and writhing and shaking it. LOVED it. Loopy lady most complimentary and head swelled with pleasure. It's an alternative class (this whole country is alternative) its a lot of experimenting with movement. I really got into the giving birth to sadness part.

After we discovered the Hungarian blintzes place. BLOODY HELL. They are comfort and love. Kashkaval and sour cream, potato and paprika, followed by apple and cinnamon and sweet cheese and raisin. Good lord. I experienced a warm fuzzy nostalgia for the good old days in Hungary I never had. Afterwards they gave us lemon, chocolate and vanilla liqueurs. No words. This is now my safe happy place for the those not so happy safe days.

Yet amonsgst all this, between cycling from the community centre spiritual belly dancing to the Hungarian paradise, TC and I heard an explosion - pigua? Then a smell. Then people hanging about and staring. It's like living in a bad film. It was near. I got the giggles. Guy on mobile shrugged at us. Girl with dog asked if we knew what was going on. Her building vibrated she said. Two dustbin men said it was too quiet - no sirens. We hung out a few minutes. All connected to eachother. New found friends. Slightly outside of ourselves. Do we continue? Is this a big deal? All incredibly surreal. Then we just went on. Our own lives again. We ate blintzes. I called SG to check the internet news. Nothing. What a strange life.

I have decided to change my account name to something less personal. So to anyone that reads this, those I know and the mysterious ones, click on 'speak' below and leave me a comment that you want the new address. I will email it to you and then delete your posting/ details from this site straight away. How does that sound? I guess I will change over within the next week or so. To those that I have the email address of I will send a mail out with the new name anyway. Thanks for reading!

Thant's not the kind of yoga I want. Yoga is about love not destruction. I want to surround myself with love. I will do. I will be.

Yesterday I saw 'ma kashur' (stand up group). Bloody chuffed a year on I have moved from about 30 to 80 % understanding. 80% is still a bit problematic cos many a punchline was in the other 20, but even so, bloody chuffed. I really enjoyed it. But it hurt a bit too. They are funny, confident guys. Chaser li. They are from Ramle. Salt-of-the-earth. Chaser li. Fantasised about one of them throughout. He was warm. Left feeling pessimistic about ever finding a salt-of-the-earth boy for me - bloody hell - in Basel?! Basel you are not my people! Today I am fed up with Tel Aviv. I didn't escape North West London to come here. It's great. Yesterday I went with JZ et al for spontaneous roller-blading, then hung out with SG and LE, then comedy with YH, then he dragged me out with a Japenese, Argentinian and Italian to a bar I was too tired for. Today I went belly dancing. Last week African. Tel Aviv does have it all. But it's not real. It's not whole or good. Sigh. I want my funny brown salt-of-the-earth boy whose mum makes me eat loads every friday night. A big noisy family. It's not easy being alone at the moment. Seems like its coupling up for winter time around me. I am off out for A's birthday in a mo. Can't be bothered. I am tired of this. This is not how I want to live my life - but I don't see what else is possible. I don't exactly know where else I want to be.

Spent weekend at Elyashiv. They are lovely. Second Succot and Simchat Torah. Nice. Dancing with Torahs and babies. Food. YHb invited her latest interest over. Cute. White, but even so, something about him, attractive. Maybe the guitar playing. Before that spent day at Dead Sea with YH and his friends. Loved the spontaneity of it and that I was with Israelis. Felt successful socially and lingustically.

Sometimes I need to be alone. In the flat. Crap American sitcoms. No MSN. No phone. No thinking. I needed that the last 3 and a half hours. And now that's enough. But I am still alone in the flat. Fed up of crap TV and not quite feeling socially skilled enough to make social arrangements. Bloody PMT.

The Bedoui is not such a funny story anymore. He called at 11 pm and at 11.05. I was on my own in the flat - every noise startled and I had my finger on speed dial to Yael. It's no way to live. I knew everyone was out doing Succot stuff. NG was at G's but when I told her she came to get me and I spent the evening trying to ignore being gooseberry, the incredibley shit, disturbing, poorly made and frightening film (Sin City) and mental replaying of possible Bedouin scenarios.

I am home now. It's late and I am really tired and still a little nervous.

Earlier I had been at AC's for a taste of Yemenite. It was a nice evening, but still, not family...please G-d by me...

A fairly eventful week...Tuesday my Bedouin telephone stalker from Tzfat (long story) decided to take things a step further and appeared in my street in Tel Aviv. Couldn't work out if I was melodramatic or racist. Decided I was neither and went to the police. After the initial moodiness, disdain and downright unpleasantness of the scary policewoman and after she had got the 'tut's and 'how could you be so naive?'s and 'are you sure there was nothing romantic between you?'s off her chest, she was actually incredibly helpful. By the end I had her 24 hour direct line, a promise for immediate police intervention and even a 'bye chamuda' (cutie). That's the thing with Israelis. They have to start off with this rejecting moody unpleasantness. They begin with the assumption they do not like you. Then they warm up. Not seen my stalker since. Feeling pretty fine about it now I have Yael the scary policewoman on speed dial. Always a bit of drama eh?

Wednesday I, sof sof, began my private practice. I am really chuffed with myself. Two clients and two more starting next week. It is so good to be back into it. I've been away too long. Big deal I know. But somehow just seems rather ordainary. Something I do.

Today I am going to A's family for Succot. They are Yemenite. I am clearly incredibly excited. Good food, in a succah, surround by incredibly beautiful Yemenite faces - what more eh?!

Chagim aren't easy. They just don't feel right. Suddenly I seem to think that they used to. I'm not sure that's true either. But certainly Bournemouth seems a long way away and there used to seem more right than here. I haven't been there for Yom Kippur for at least 5 years. And I only started going to that shul about 12 years before. And I know I missed a few when I was at university, or abroad. But suddenly it seems as if I went there all my life and they got it 'right'.

I went to HK's boyfriend's family. Morrocan. Bless them they couldn't have been any more welcoming. But they are not my family. They are not my boyfriend's family.

I started off at the Morrocan shul for Kol Nidre. The eerie, melodic wail didn't happen. Not much that I was used to happened. There was a lot of 'balagan' and middle-eastern moaning. Nothing was familiar and my Ashkenazi machzor was completely unhelpful. The lady in front tried to set me up with someone. Eh.

We went for a walk in the evening. Driving is basically banned in Israel on Yom Kippur and it turns into the festival of bicycles for children. Everyone walks in the middle of the road, even the motorways. No Israeli TV or radio broadcasts. It really is amazing. We wondered around a little and hung out in the squate a bit with the 'too cool for school' teenagers. Oy, I am so glad I am not one of them. It was so Golders Green 1991.

Today I got up and went back to the Moroccan shul. I couldn't do it. I tried the Asheknazi service at the local Chabad. A woman humiliatingly sent me away for being dressed too revealingly. I tearfully left and walked around Petach Tikva in the heat not sure what to do with myself. Eventually I found another Ashkenazi shul. It broke immediatly for 2 and half hours. I found a bench to sit on and feel sorry for myself. Overwhelmed with guilt for inadequate repentance and a feeling of being lost I browsed though my Artscroll. I liked the Haftarah for Shacharit. The whole big deal is about being a good person and loving your neighbour.

I wonderend back to the Morrocan shul and decided I would dafka do my Ashkenazi stuff there. So whilst they 'ay ay ay'd like in Morroco, I read the Amidah and beat my chest like we do in Bournemouth. It helps me that stuff. I like that beating business - I really do feel like I sinned. Makes me tearful.

After the break I went to the Ashkenazi shul again. It is big and impressive. Not in a fancy way. Just impressive. It made me think of Eastern Europe. It made me sad about the Holocaust and the shuls that must have been destroyed. It was full of old people that were probably there then. I chatted to one of them. She told me about it. She was very cute. She danced to the upbeat tunes. The chazan was phenomenal. I felt like I was at a concert with the high walls and the simply beautiful harmonies. It was really moving. Arousing. I felt like I was praying. Please G-d, my prayers were heard and I will be a better person this year.

I broke the fast with sweet stuff back at the Morrocan house.

Now I am back in Tel Aviv, a little sad and lonely. I know I am doing well, but even so...chagim aren't easy.

I feel good. Teaching went really well again. I like these students in Haifa. I love it that I mix with Arab students and I get to know and like them. This country is too scary, not just because there is good reason, but also because we don't mix. I am too scared of becoming someone I would have hated in England. I love it that I like them and they genuinely seem to like me and it feels normal and comfortable - unlike in the rest of my Israeli world.

Had a lovely chat with M and D and J. I love them. Parked easily. Got a pizza slice in Bazel and sauntered home. On the way I thought. Life feels good. Really good. I have meaning, I have people that love me, I have fun and interesting things in my life and stuff to make me feel bright. I have enough. It suddenly felt really real that I do not in anyway need a boyfriend in the way I have felt in the past. I do have good relationships with people who care about me. I do feel fulfilled in many ways in my life. I do not need to be saved. The things that are missing at the moment are the bonuses. Today, what I have, it's enough. Good old Winnicott (and oestrogen).

Today feels good. I feel good. I feel competant and creative. Work was good this evening. Previously scary monday class have been converted - I am not abominable and neither is 'social constructionism' I would even say they quite like the both of us : )

So, Rosh Hashana, new year, new start, new thoughts, new wishes.

New year changes: job

New year wishes: mental and physical health, hope, happiness

New year resolutions: less 'lashon hara' (nasty talk), more optimism

Just went to shul for second day Rosh HaShanah. It's not Bournemouth. It's not that kind of nostalgia. But there is something. When I heard the shofar and watched the old man with his long white beard under his tallis, I felt that feeling. A conncetion to history - my 'am' (people). That for me is spiritual. The connection. Imagining the same scene 1000's of years ago. It made me tearful. I need more of this in my day-to-day. Tel Aviv isn't good for me long term.

I love being a Jew. I just love that feeling of being part of something so much bigger than me. The long line of tradition. I went to a conservative American shul in Jerusalem yesterday - it just doesn't do it for me. Men and women sitting together. Church-like choirs. Women Rabbis. I am happy with the differentiation between men and women in religion and life. We are different. Different but equal. I am a feminist. I enjoy feminist deconstructions of the world. I like feminist psychotherapies. But in religion, I think it is ok that men and women have different and complimentary roles. I think feminism is about a personal interpretation and expression of feminitiy - not an aspiration to masculinity. As a feminist I belive in my power as a woman. My right to pursue my interests and dreams. I don't see why that would include wanting to wear a kippah or tallis in shul. Feminism I think is about respecting difference and encouring an equality of power and an embracing of feminine and masculine ways of being. As a woman I am happy to let a man lead the prayer - to follow tradtion. As a woman I want more than anything to have children. To raise them. In no way do I see that as succuming to patriarchy. I see it as a personal and powerful choice. An expression of my feminity. Another's expression of femininity that doesn't include these 'stereotypes' is just as valid to me.

I live just off 'Basel'. Basel is a bit like an Israeli Notting Hill I reckon. I am not Notting Hill. I am not Basel. I like it here, but it's just not me. It's all cafe culture and sushi and white people in their 30's wearing fashionable shoes. I'm not sure where else I belong, but it won't be here.

Yet in spite of that, I love it that I nipped to Basel for a cheesecake ice cream and a natter with SG. It's nice for a while in Basel.

I cried in the bar. Exploiting people's misery for money is all just too much. Noone got it. I didnt go into this job for this. I hate the inner war between greed and morality. I want to work for the governemnt. I dont want to think that maybe I can earn more mone. I dont want pain to be my income like that.

I downed shots and cut off a bit. Enough to be superficial enough to be bearable to other people. My childish sweet naivity is waning. I need money. Worse: I want money. I dont like it. I am frightened by a potentional loss of ethics and spirituality. I am disappointed I have to make this choice.

I don't want to think about money. I just wanted to do therapy.

Feel all a bit sick. Work stuff feels like it is falling apart around me. I know this is probably good. But I feel not good. Derby is not going to be enough to live on next semester. I will have to work privately. Jaffa fell through. I don't fancy Ramla so much and Rehovot needs a Tuesday. Shachaf today said they can offer me 6 hours voluntary for 3 months and then just the possibility of a hitmachut after that. She suggested combining other stuff. The whole thing is freaking me out. Don't like building my own career like this. I will start with the voluntary stuff. Nothing to lose there. But I am losing time; investing in something that may go nowhere. But I think I do want it. Don't feel ok.

I don't even know what to write. I feel a bit 'eh'. Enough already with the free time. Know I am technically lucky. I am earning enough money with very few hours of work. But it makes me feel pretty worthless. Today I filed away a loads of papers for about 6 hours. It needed to be done. I cooked risotto. It was ok. I went to a modern dance class. Actually that was really good. First time I felt like I 'got it'. I was not the worst and I did not get picked out for getting confused. It was all rolling around on the floor stuff. I liked it. V dramatic. Maybe I will try this contact dancing malarky after all.

Anyway, PG I will get this job at Shachaf (eating disorders). Interview on Mon. Think I would love it. First job I have really wanted.

The less I do the less I do...

A walk around Basel, ice cream, a sneaky cigarette and NG. I'm on the way. I simply love her. She makes me feel better about me and Israel.

I got my first mystery comment! Feeling rather pleased with myself. Isn't it wierd that I want to be read by strangers. Sure that is a bit not sane. Guess that's what celbrities go for. Attention from those out there. Then I read http://johnhleonard.blogspot.com/ and he wrote that he got 1,700 hits this month. Bloody hell! His blog is good tho. How does this happen?

Not there, but getting better. Not quite sure what's going on. Not particularly thinking about home. Just a little off balance. Not sad, not happy. Went to beach with KF and NP (SO incredibly pleased back in contact!) Getting back to routine which feels good.

Not quite sure what is going on but I feel wobbly; serious. Not quite attached. Not quite sure who I am or what I want. (Like I have to decide). The sane part is telling me just to be 'here' and that that is enough. The other part moves between panic and disassciation.

Bit auto-pilot.

Surreal. Obvioulsy feels like I never left. Being in 2 different countries in one day is wierd. In England I said 'toda', here I say 'thank you'. I am not quite anywhere. Leaving wasn't that hard; neither was arriving. This is the first time I felt like this place is just ordainary. Just a place. That maybe I could live in any place. It wasn't a Zionist moment to return. I just got on a plane.

Met a nice guy on the plane; NY. Obviously he moved to London 2 weeks ago. We may go on a date anyway. (Guess he was the temporary transitional object - thanks).

I don't feel nice. I feel it in my stomach. I just hate this bit. I can't even appreciate what I have. I know I don't belong here. I have outgrown it. It is blatant. But it is still horrible this bit. Started the goodbyes to school friends. Planning the goodbyes for tommorrow. I hate it. It's too hard. It makes me not want to come home at all. And I know when I get back to Israel I am going to feel wrong. This all feels not right.

Whirring tummy. Just polished off a load of chocolate biscuits. Home alone after a nice day with school friends. Off out again shortly with them. I am getting nervous to leave again. Hard. Thinking about M and D and J. Horrible. Am I stupid? It feels scary. I am going to be a mess. I thought I would get fed up of being here. But it is just getting better. I love them so much. Am I stupid?

It doesn't quite register. He is a friend of SG. I don't know him. I just met him. I read about him in Haaretz. I remember it was sad that his Mum was convinced that he would die there. I didn't know it was the boy I met in the pizza shop then. I think I have to not think about it. It is really scary. It really happens. It's not play. It is easier that I am here not there.

Jst as I thought. As if I never left. I am even moodier and more like a teenager. Lovely to see everyone. Crazy weekend of seeing one after the other. Not as many people as in the past. I don't mind the dwindling at all. It's weaning. Home now. Good to rest. I am so glad I don't live in this country.

LD's friend EK helped me with my car test today. I really freak out with this stuff. I manage a lot of stuff. But this stuff freaks me. EK is LOVELY. Such a good person. Cute too. Car is a bit of a nightmare. Lots of hassle and stress and now 1600 shekels. My car is stuck in raanana and I am flying in a few hours. I can't think about it.

Went out for a goodbye drink and about 15 people came. Quite chuffed actually. Nice evening at the local.

Then I got a call that 15 soldiers have died up there. It's just awful and now I am flat.

YP came online. He is just about to take the dog for a walk. I told him to be careful. Ketushyas. He reckons the Hizbollah are sleeping by now.

Thought Bolivia came online. But he is on the border. It was his Mum, worrying about him.

In about 4 hours I am flying home. Home... Strange. Don't feel like I am really going. Then I won't feel like I ever left and then I will come back here and I won't feel like I even went.

I am in such a good mood! Really enjoyed beach. Had a good lesson with my troublesome Monday class. I convinced them to love me. Went to see NG in Ramat Gan. Insane occurance. Got lost (again) for ages, couldn't get back on the road. Lost it. Completley atzbanit. To a level I have never experienced. On phone to KT at the time. Shouting like a crazy person and banging the steering wheel. Physical anger exploding inside me. I coudn't bear it was all I could shout. Arrived at NG, had such a lovely time as always. She does me so much good. She makes me feel like the world is a good place. She radiates goodness. G was with her. He is totally besotted. Not often I witness such pure love. I need to surround myself with good people like this. This is what life is about.

I left about 1 am to face the parking trauma and saw a girl standing by a car. I knew she would have been arriving not leaving. Yet, as the ritual goes: 'you leaving?' 'No, sorry'. And then, it was strange, it wasn't that I recognised her face, but something made me think that I knew her. 'NK?' 'Yes?' She didnt recognise me either. It was LKs sister I havent seen her in 2 years. We chatted for about 20 min or so. It was really lovely. It felt really good. This is such a time for reparations and reunions. What is this all about?! She works for Orange. For some reason the orange website has just opened on my computer - how wierd is all this stuff.

The list goes on:
Piano boy in Tel Aviv
PF declaration
Bolivia in contact
AB calls mum
PG sends sms
Arg D e-mail
LK in contact
DA online
SP in kenyon
Sandwhich boy in contact
Itai in Hadera
Monday boy in bar
Shuk wierdo freak call
Bedouin in Jabotinsky
NP is KF's housemates best friend
LK's mum and now sister in the street

Who else is there? I really can't think of other people I am not in contact with!

Beach on a Monday afternoon, 3 gorgeous young brown men, a bit of arak and Tuborg and I feel much better. Bolivia and 2 lovely boys took me to the beach. Wasn't so hot, but it was so good. Made me feel like I was on holiday. I love Israeli boys. They are such good boys WITH all that masculine bravado. They love each other. Friends from childhood. Then Bolivia started to talk about his miluim. He is based really near the explosion yesterday. He goes back on Wednesday. He talked about the noise of the gunfire and the ketushyot. What can you say to that.

But today I felt better about it. Today I am back in my bubble.

I keep crying. Sometimes those really desperate tears. I am not quite sure what about. I must have called the whole of Tel Aviv tonight looking for someone to sit with. Everyone is busy. Seeing salmon sandwich in the end. Cant sit alone any more. Spoke to LK. He was good actually. I felt stupid for being so upset. Bloody hell I am in the Tel Aviv bubble and noone REALLY close is in the north. But he said it right - this is national sadness and I can't help but feel it. He said this was probably the saddest day that he can remember. It is just so sad.

Today felt more sad. Sometimes I can just live in my Tel Aviv bubble and sometimes it is just too awful not to seep in. Today I kept thinking about how sad this is. Then 12 reserve soldiers were killed on the border by ketushyut. We don't know names yet. Then I spoke to YP for a while. He is up in Haifa. He hardly goes out the house. It is so frightening. Half an hour ago there was a big strike on Haifa. I am watching the news. You can't help but get upset by it. It's so frightening. I am not frightned for me so much. I am in my bubble. Tho they say they will probably hit TA soon. I guess so. I just can't bear thinking about the soldiers up there. I can't 'do life' today.

BTW the wierd coincidences go on - bizarre market Shai called on a withheld nuber pretending to be someone else.

'Boi' means 'come (hear/over etc)'. I hear it a lot. People here are very into the imperative tense. It's very direct. Very demanding. 'give' 'go' 'take' 'eat' 'sit'. With all my polite upbringing from the UK I should take offence to it. But I like it. I love it when I hear 'boi'. There is something strong about it. From a woman I find it very caring, motherly. From a man I find it very masculine. Salmon sandwhich just sms'd me 'boi eli' (come to me) and I am going. It is so blatant and direct. 'This is what I want'. No charade. I just can't resist the imperative.

Once again I was out in a bar, having a pretty nice time with pretty nice people. The Tel Aviv bubble is so seperate from the rest of the country. Bloke chatted up KF, she said she had a boyfriend. He thought it was a shame cos he is going to Lebanon in 36 hours. And it's not a line. And I thought about how many boys in there were on leave and returning on Sunday morning, and were looking for a bit of 'comfort' that night. Sometimes I do feel like I am in a bad film.

Ketushya landed in Hadera today. I called LD's family and YH to check on them. I spoke to LD's mum - I expected her to be laid back and tell me not to worry, I wanted her to, but she was frightened and in a protected room, full of 'please G-d it will be ok's. I wasn't ready for that.

Saw NG after. Ate pizza in the park at 330 am. I love her. She makes me happy. I am so comfortable with her. If I was a boy I would marry her!