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!

Friday, June 24, 2005

breaking news

Seconds after I posted the last note, Michelle came into my room and said, "I think someone is outside our door. Can you come here and see. The doorknob was rattling!" It is 4:22 by my watch.

Run to the door. Doorknob starts moving. Jump back. Eeek. Eeek. Half hysterical whispered consultation. Me whispering frantically, "call the cops again," Michelle saying, "wait look out the peephole first so we can identify him when we call in case he runs away." I look. No one right outside. Then I spot only an ass bent over down the hallway by the stairs. Sounds of profuse vomiting. Retching, gagging, euuuupphhh. It goes on for quite a while. Michelle starts timing it: 3 minutes of unabated yakking.

But then he gets up and lurches down the hallway toward our door. We abandon the peephole and back away. The knob starts moving again. He begins to push and prod at the door as well. We run to my room and call for the police. They take their sweet time. Hell they were just here minutes ago, what is taking so long.

I go back to the door to listen for noise of the would-be intruder. Nothing for a long minute. Then suddenly something, rather someone, thumps against the door hard. Yeeeeeee. We start looking for something heavy to shove in front of it (don't have anything heavy). My cat Buffy is all excited by this and goes to the door to check it out. "Buffy, no, get away from the door!" is my frantic whisper to my darling cat who complies quickly when he thumps against it again.

Run to the bedroom again and look from the window. Finally the cops are pulling up. Back to the door. Through the peephole I see the guy trying to open my neighbor's door with no luck. The cops appear up the stairs.

Sigh of relief (sort of): It is our new neighbor --the one who moved in upstairs a couple of weeks ago. He is so drunk he couldn't figure out which apartment was his. The cops lead him up and home.

Michelle was actually just starting a new blog about living in a slum in Hell's Kitchen and all the strange things that go on around here when the doorknob started rattling!

Ahhh, nice restful night...hmm it is nearly daybreak and the sky is getting light.

(8:03 a.m. Michelle has just posted a truly detailed and hysterical account of the events of the wee hours of the morning)

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