Some Time Later...

and I am still in transition, still rebooting. I have been out of my home almost 3 months. I'm not any more comfortable... but I'm not any less comfortable.

I wish that I had had the mindsight to write every day, to tell bit by bit what is happening... but there has been so much. And I wonder, if and when this is all settled, if I'll ever be able to reconstruct it all.

I'm about to move into a new home that I will share mostly with Upstairs Neighbor. I'm a little apprehensive. I've never lived with another female since I lived with my sister. I moved out when I was 22, when I got married. I have only ever lived with men a total of maybe 5 years out of my entire adult life. But I know that my apprehension is about the same as hers... she who had been married 38 years and is now without husband or mother.

But we get along... I'm pretty sure that will continue in the new place. Any friendship works when you can talk and we talk a lot, UN and I... about the things that scare us, what we need.

The apartment search was brutal. Whatever could have gone wrong went wrong. I looked at a bunch of places. In the beginning we looked together but then she had to work and we were running out of time so I continued the search without her. The broker was great... he earned his fee.

The places I found were either ratty or small or in too big a building. One place was perfect but at the last minute the landlord wanted a hell of a lot more money than what the place was advertised for, another place we missed out on because someone applied online for it before we could get our paper app in. Then the place I finally walked into and loved instantly gave us a hard time because we couldn't get cashier's checks within 24 hours. But finally... finally I think we have a new home... the broker says the key will be released to us next Wednesday. I am cautiously optimistic that things will go OK... I'd be more optimistic if things had gone smoother.

My job is cool; the people are strange and funny and artistic like me. A perk is seeing the art that comes in. Another perk is the occasional free frame. And yet a third perk is the thought that I may perhaps, have the honor of hanging some of my framed work in the store front gallery.

And the other night, I attended the first of three classes, "A Taste of Judaism". It had been a small ad I saw in one of the free New York newspapers. I'd torn the ad out and wondered if I should attend. But then I lost the ad and didn't see it in the next week's paper. And then the ad ran again, and I registered. And I tried to chicken out but the odds conspired to work in my favor and there I was, with the BigMan, listening to a rabbi from a Reformed temple talk about what it meant to be a Jew.

After years and years of wondering, in spite of years of keeping Holy Days on a Roman calendar, sitting there listening I realized with a giggle that I really am a Jew...


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