Sunday's headache had the good grace to stay away. Didn't do much yesterday besides go to yeshiva and work and nap away the hottest part of the day. Very fortunately, the yeshiva managed to get the dorm boys settled in a decent place in Jerusalem that will be able to take them in for as long as the fighting lasts up north, so today's classes actually took on some semblance of normalcy.

Last night marked the first of what should be many happy Pearson/Siegel family get-togethers. Rachel and Jacki and their mom and I met Rebecca and Avraham and Ashira for dinner at Lugar, where we ate Seth's exquisite cuisine and generally had a wonderful time.

Here's the daily update. I took the bus with Steve last night from Lisa and Moshe's house in Tel Mond to Seth's apartment in Jerusalem and we spent the night there. I expect we'll stay here for the foreseeable future. My yeshiva has all fled Tzfat and we're meeting now in the Har Nof neighborhood of Jerusalem as long as we remain refugees. I got an awful headache in the middle of the morning, though, had to take an expensive cab ride home, and spent a pretty miserable afternoon in bed. The heat today was awful, and your typical analgesics don't seem to work so well for me. What seemed most effective against the headache was a wet towel applied to my head and body. I'm mostly better now, except when I tilt my head too far away from the vertical, and I was able to catch up on some work in the late afternoon. I plan to take it easy this evening, hopefully catch dinner with Seth and/or one or more of the Seigel family members.

So, I haven't been keeping up with writing about the events of the week, and there's nice things to report, but first I have to update you about the sudden military crisis, so this will seem a bit backwards.

Most importantly, I'm fine and so is everyone else I know in Tzfat. Neither my house nor Rebecca and Avraham's have been hit, as far as I know. (At the very least, you can be certain that my house isn't badly damaged as long as you can reach this web site.) In case you don't know, Hizbolla terrorists operating from Lebanon have been peppering everything within range in the Upper Galilee with Ketusha rockets almost non-stop since this past Wednesday morning, although nothing hit Tzfat until Thursday, as I understand. It didn't seem so bad, and, until late yesterday, I'd intended to stay in Tzfat and go on with my normal plans, even though Rebecca had offered a ride for Steve and me out of town. But when a rocket hit in my neighborhood close enough for me to see the column of dust and smoke about 30 or 40 meters away (yes, it was quite a thunderclap when it hit), I knew it would be better to take a little vacation. Steve and I packed, and we piled in with my sister's family in their car, and we drove to Tel Mond to spend the night at the home of Lisa and Moshe, Avraham's sister and brother-in-law. And that's from where I'm blogging at you now, while the kids putter around the living room with their toys. Rebecca and Avraham had plans to be in Jerusalem for Shabbos even before this craziness started, but I'll stick here and show Steve a good Shabbos with Lisa and Moshe and their kids.

At least one nice thing about this little ordeal is that a couple of ex-boyfriends that I hadn't heard from in a little while checked in to make sure that I was OK. It's nice to know they still care. :)

It's surprising that the Klezmer festival could possibly be anything but the most exciting event of the week in Tzfat, but even though it was upstaged afterward, it was still a great show. I mostly skipped out on the opening night, since I had an engagement party to attend, and I was still tired from staying up late to greet Steve into town on Saturday night, but Rebecca and Avraham brought a birthday cake to my house. On Monday night, Steve and I wandered around the various stages with Rebecca and Ashira, browsing the booths of vendors selling all sorts of tchotchkes and nosh. Becca took us out to eat at a restaurant in honor of my birthday, but I came down with a stomach illness, so we cut the night short and I spent all of Tuesday in bed recovering. On the last night of the festival, Steve and I strolled leisurely through town and caught some very nice performances, including a rollicking show by Simply Tsfat.

On Wednesday afternoon, we took a field trip to Khadita, a little village of squatters that live pretty much entirely outside the system. They do their own farming, collecting their own water supply, and generating what little electricity they use. They're very much into permaculture and ecological farming. We hiked back from there to Tzfat, taking a very scenic route through the area's river valleys. The highlight of Thursday was taking Steve to visit my morning Talmud class with Rabbi Rothenburg's yeshiva. Whew, and that wraps up the report for this very full week.

So, I had a lovely set of shabbos meals with Dionne and Chaim and their little toddler Itamar. And after Shabbos, I told Chaim that I'm gay when he called me on the phone: I finally had enough of him trying to set me up with girls. Which brings me to the topic of this rant: reactions to coming out of the closet. Or, rather, apparent lack thereof. I know, everyone wants to be the good supportive friend and no one wants to come off as a bigot, but really, I don't mind if you are at least a teensy bit flustered or something. Just take a second to say, "oh." Acknowledge the fact that I just said something kinda significant. Don't pretend that you're totally unsurprised when you were quite obviously working under the assumption that I was straight. It really is nicer for me that way.

You see, coming out to someone is always at least a little emotionally charged, because you can almost never be sure how the person on the receiving end of the news will react. A little part of me is bracing for the potential display of emotional fireworks. And when you manage to look totally unfazed by the words "I'm gay", that little part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's thinking, "did you not hear me or something?" And it can't quite stop bracing itself. Plus, my perverse side is just plain disappointed by the lack of entertainment that would have been provided by a dramatic reaction.

I mean, it's not like I don't long for the day when a varying sexual orientation is no more stigmatized than an unusual ice cream preference. But let's not pretend we're there yet.

The Klezmer Festival is starting this Sunday, and you can see the signs sprouting up around the city. The visitors are starting to trickle in, and, in fact, I'm spending my Shabbos meals with a couple I'm friends with from Jerusalem, Chaim and Dionne Hayman, who are in town for the first two days of the festival.

The Shabbos preparations this morning were made extra exciting by a power outage that hit the whole Old City and outskirts. It lasted about a couple of hours, but while it was going on, I had no idea how long it would last and how I'd get the groceries for Shabbos, what with the ATMs disabled and no way for the supermarket to use my bank card. But all's back to normal now, and preparations are well on their way with plenty of time to spare.

The Steve's going to arrive in town from Jerusalem this Saturday night after midnight, assuming he doesn't get lost on the way to the bus stop. (I know I should have more faith in his ability to get around on his own, but it's hard not to worry about someone wandering around in a country without speaking the local language. I remember how confused I could get myself my first couple years here.) Tomorrow's his last day with his archeological program, and they're spending it on a properly guided tour of Jerusalem. I plan to fill up Steve's next two weeks with klezmer music, souvenir shops, art galleries, hiking, camping, fire-spinning, and, yes, also some well-deserved chilling out time.