Good friends and ceasefires

Thank goodness for great friends, alcohol and Shabbat! Thursday night's dancing-on-tables-to-cheesy-Israeli-songs hen night was wonderful, a roomful of people of all ages, some with flashing penises on their heads (not our bride-to-be, I assure you), all enjoying the opportunity to let all those tensions go by singing along with a middle-aged bloke in a cowboy hat crooning Shlomo Arzi into his microphone. We over-thirties were yawning a little at midnight and not sad to be heading for our bus back to Jerusalem, but the party in the Rishon winery looked like it was carrying on and on...

So, after the bad-taste-in-your-mouth incident J and I had with supposed good friends on Thursday, it seemed that someone up there was conspiring to send my messages of love and goodwill from all, just to balance it all out. I was hit on by a guy on my way to shul (!), and the last thing he said after I asked if he'd like us to go out for a coffee "with or without my husband", was "you're a great woman". I thought, Yes, yes I am! Then saw lots of lovely people in shul who told me they'd missed me, because due to an increased claustrophobia I had stopped going 9 months ago, not being able to cope with the 400-strong crowd that turns up on a Friday night. Now I can do it - if I get there early, sit at the front, and don't turn round during the whole service. A little wierd, but it works. And yesterday I felt I really wanted to be back with my community, whatever that means, so the warm welcome was very much appreciated.

Tonight, switching on the computer after Shabbat, I see that there might be a cease-fire. Perhaps by Monday, siren warnings every few minutes will be something we'll just reminisce about. Perhaps by then, all the soldiers will be safely back home and D will be reunited with G and they can drink the bottle of Tishbi red wine I took round to her place last week and told her was strictly to be saved for celebrating upon his return. I really hope so.

Right now, I am chatting with Harry, an online technician from HP, who is trying to help me figure out why my brand-new and very sexy Scanjet 4670 refuses to respond to my entreaties. Ah, the world of technology. Makes every other little frustration pale into insignificance.

Must get back to writing fiction. Much more calming.