Step-by-Step: Making Aliyah to Israel

Documenting the very personal process of making Aliyah (immigration to Israel) by one very atypical Israeli-American girl. Aliyah on 17, August, 2005. Roadmap: What do you mean there's no roadmap?! Hang on, we're in for a bumpy ride! Ole!

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

It is 1 in the afternoon and I just woke up with that groggy 'you slept way too late' feeling that I so hate. I didn't intend to sleep this late. In fact, my alarm was set for 7:30 because I have so much to do on these papers. The problem was that I went to bed at an early hour (before 2 which is early for me) and had a most horrible nightmare. It was one of those dreams that are so vivid they are still with you the next day in excruciating detail. One of those dreams that is rich in sights, sounds, and even a sensation of smell and touch. I almost never have this kind of dream anymore, especially not of the nightmare variety. This one was a doozy. After I woke up from it I kept trying to rework it, to fix it and, in a half-sleep sort of managed to fix part of it until I slid back into full sleep and continued the dream with ever-worsening results. I woke up again in a cold sweat and didn't fall back to sleep until my alarm was going off. I turned off the alarm and finally slept in peace.

I dreamed I was in a high-rise building here in New York, an apartment similar to that of friends of mine who live on the 40th floor. My brother was visiting me along with two of his friends. I lived there. We were sleeping and I 'awoke' to a sensation of my bed, the floor, the whole building, tilting at a dangerous angle. I watched as the building swayed back and forth and then the living room and half of my bedroom simply disappeared, peeled away and vanished. With it went one of my brother's friends and, because the living room went, I also knew my cat Mischa was gone as he always sleeps there. The rest of the dream involved trying to get out of this building, the core of which was the only thing left and about to go. Obviously shades of 9/11. Obviously worries about not getting permission to take Fat Cat.

I think it was sparked by the exchange I had with my cab driver yesterday. I'm used to strange cabbies but I've never had one turn around and smilingly introduce himself as "Hi, I'm a Palestinian terrorist" before. It was a strange and disturbing cab ride and I want to blog about it later. Now though, I have infused myself with caffeine and need to get to work.

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