I haven't spent much time trying to hide the fact that my head has been a mess this week. I missed Slappy's intern barbecue on Sunday, I was nearly incapable of being upright Tuesday, and today I had to leave work early.
Today's headache was compounded with a sore throat and the most serious case of tired I'd ever had, but it was also such a fierce and pervasive headache that I wasn't even sure what to do with it.
I did the normal- threw some drugs at it. I tried sitting in an air conditioned room free from kids for a few minutes. And finally at lunch, I cried uncle and drove home.
I then laid down and took a 2 hour nap. And woke up, STILL with a headache because as much as I want it too, sleep is no longer a headache fix as it used to be. If you know me well you know that it ate me up inside to leave work early because I love love love my job, but I also know I'd have been no good to my campers this afternoon.
And so I imagine the start of my weekend will involve even more lying on the couch, painkillers, caffeine and chocolate. And I hope beyond hope that this weekend will be fun and rejuvenating. And for the love of all that is good and sacred, I hope it'll be pain freaking free.
But I'm also not holding my breath. Because I'm an eternal optimist like that.
I want to thank you all for the comments and emails in support of what I shared last night. I wasn't even sure I was going to say it until the words came out of my fingertips.
Please know, for those who feel that I am rushing the decision, that no action is being taken immediately. I will continue to go to Temple on Fridays and once we settle at one here in California, I will sign up for adult education classes and learn more about the religion I believe I want to commit myself to. I will not go into this haphazardly, I will not go without careful thought. But I will follow my heart, my head and what I feel God's plans are for me.
I realize that some of you are surprised, some disappointed. I am very sorry for that. The thing is, while I love all of your support, in a competition between my faith and your support, my faith must always come first. Support is wonderful, but a life without faith and without spiritual well-being, is not worth living. In fact, it's not really living at all.
And so if this is where we part, then I think that's tragic. If you're only reading here because of my Christian upbringing, then you were here for the wrong reason to begin with and perhaps it's time for us to go our separate ways. Know that I hold no resentment, I'm just disappointed that it has to end this way.
Thank you again for all the uplifting and celebratory messages from those who felt they could offer support.
And now the journey begins...
I was thinking today about how there is very little I've hidden from you and even less I've lied about, which makes what I'm about to share, all the more scary and raw for me. (No I'm not pregnant, just to quell that anticipation.)
Since this past February, I have attended Temple (Jewish temple, that is) with Slappy nearly every Friday.
And I love it.
I cannot tell you how at peace I feel there. I cannot tell you how what I hear, and speak and see on the lines of books we use to pray each week has changed me. I have never felt closer to my faith, to God, than I do there. I have never believed what I have heard, spoken and seen more than I do at Temple.
And through these nearly 5 months I feel as though Slappy and I have grown together, and I feel very strongly, that this is the religious community I want to raise my children in.
I realize that this is a shock to some of you, that it is not such a shock to others, but it is a shock to even me how greatly I am considering conversion. I understand the gravity of the change and I yearn for it. I have no doubt that I would thrive as a Jew, that my future family would grow and feel like they belong there, but it's just not that simple.
The family I have now, the one I've known for 26 years, will not know or believe any of this. They won't see that my faith is more important than my allegiance to a religion I was born into. They won't see that my happiness and my future family will be well taken care of in this new religion. They won't see it.
But what they will see, incorrectly, is Slappy as the source. Even though he never has, nor never will, ask me to convert (hell, he doesn't even know I'm writing this right now), in their minds, my conversion would be his fault. In reality, it's because I found the religious home I have been looking for. It's because I've found somewhere that I feel, for the first time ever, whole. But that won't mater to them.
Nothing has been set into motion and nothing will be for some time. But I'd be lying to you, either outright or by omission if I didn't tell you that I will, very likely, be undergoing a major chance (in my personal life, the blog will be pretty unaffected) in the coming weeks and months, maybe even years.
I don't expect all of you to understand and I don't expect any of you to agree with the possible decision on the horizon. But I hope you can respect it and offer support in this transition.
I have lots to tell you. I went to a ballet class tonight after an 8 year break. I have a sort of confession I want to make. I want to talk about how Slappy starts his first! day! as a doctor tomorrow.
But instead, I'm going to lie in bed and wallow in self-pity and pain for the headache I have. I had a horribly fierce on yesterday which improved some today and is now back...with a vengeance.
So instead of trying to figure out what to tell you tonight and what to shelve for the rest of this week, I'm writing about nothing. I'm writing about my intentions to write and how, due to ridiculous pain, I cannot see them through.
Hopefully tomorrow brings change. Preferably the good, less painful kind.
Hopefully.
Today, I hung (hanged?) up the last two pieces of artwork in our new apartment and as such, I christen it officially DONE. It only took us 3 and a half weeks, but hey, better slower than all hell than never. Would you like to see?
When you walk in the front door, this is what you see...
To the left is the living room. On one wall there are a few (hundred) DVDs.
And on the other wall is our brand spanking new couch. It's like a giant red teddy bear. Seriously, I could live on that couch. Happily.
On the other side of the door is the dining room, also known as the staging area for the most dramatic cat fights.
The dining room runs into the kitchen, also known as the greatest concentration of new wedding presents anywhere in the house. I LOVE IT.
If you then went down the hallway you saw upon entry, you'd pass my Watermeter clock (which I love love love)
and then stumble into our bedroom. This is the view from the door.
The view from the front wall... (The answer to the question you're about to ask is 11 pillows. It's AWESOME.)
The view from the bed...
And our walk in closet, where only the classiest furniture gets used.
Further down the hall you find the bathroom...
with two sinks (thank God for no more facial hair filled sinks. Or sink. Slappy's can be filled to the brim with his beard hair, as long as I don't have to look into it, it's GREAT for me.)
and one toilet, also known as kitten swimming pool.
And of course, on your way out, you're likely to stumble upon two tired kitties. Because they have a knack for sleeping in only the least convenient places.
And that's it. We're home. Finally.
So, um, I have nothing to write about.
I have many more twitterable thoughts that I could list as I did last night, like how my groceries were just delivered to my door for free. Or how my foot mysteriously keeps erupting in painful pins and needles. Oh how I didn't realize that Michael Jackson was still alive (until today obviously), but nothing of any interest.
So I'm going to bombard you with pictures. Pictures of the tiny little ball of fur who has kept me from sleeping solidly for 11 days. The ball of fur I've chased back into the house twice, I've plucked out of the refrigerator, laundry closet, TOILET, bath tub and from underneath Karma's fat flaps more times than I can recall.
In case you wondered, we've moved from hostility (which included growling and hissing 24 hours a day) to fighting, that sometimes seems like playing and sometime seems like Jacques might lose his jugular vein. We pull Karma off of him all the time, but frankly, I can't blame her since he's decided that her tail is the BEST. TOY. EVER. If you bit my ass, I'd probably bite your neck too. So far there have been no true injuries and he is entirely and completely unphased by being constantly smothered.
(Pictured: sheer and complete loathing)
What he does more than anything else, however, is sleep. All damn day because how on earth could he bite our faces all night long if he slept then? Right?
(my favorite)
(The dismount of this nap was not graceful for him nor painless for me.)
And in case you wondered, he's 100% boy. 
Only, you know, sterile and stuff.
Alternate titles include:
-Things I could just twitter about but am blogging about because I have nothing else to tell you
-Things that are annoying me but probably not you because I am crazy crabby
-Random crap by number
In no particular order, the things that are currently bugging me:
1) Traffic. Look, I know I moved to Los Angeles and yes, I took a job far away from my house, but dude, the cars do not need to ALL slow down to make an s shaped turn on a 5 lane freeway. Really. You just don't. You could at least take the turn at 50 mph rather than 25. Some of us can make it at 80. Some of us would LOVE to make it at 80 at 7am on a weekday.
2) Buying a new car charger for my iPhone. Because OF COURSE my iPod touch charger wouldn't work. (I know, I know, and my diamond shoes are too tight. But still).
3) The morning.
4) Mark Sanford and everyone who has their panties in a twist about it. Unless we discover that he's been using government funds and totally not doing his job, then DUDE, who cares? Adultery is between a man, a wife and his mistress(es). He can sleep with the entire cast of Grey's Anatomy for all I care. It's still not my problem.
5) Dick Cheney. Not for any reason in particular, just his existence in the universe.
6) The freaking jerk at work who took my diet coke from the refrigerator at work this afternoon. The diet coke that I LABELED with my name AND initials to prevent just this situation. Dude. That is so not okay. Because at 5pm when I was STILL in my car (see #1) trying to get home and nearly falling asleep from getting up so early (see #3) I really could've used some effing caffeine.
7) My nocturnal kitten. Dude. It's dark out, leave me the hell alone.
8) The fact that I ordered a custom made gift for my campers and it finally arrived today...and the camp's name is spelled wrong. And the fact that it's probably my fault, but I have no way of knowing so I can't really call them up and complain. And because that is totally the kind of typo I would make.
9) The stickers on the back windows of cars with pictures of families. These don't actually bother me, per se, but rather, they worry me. All you need is one sick shit to look at that and target your family. I just feel like maybe you shouldn't advertise the fact that you have 4 little kids in your van.
10) #9. Because now I'm all kinds of depressed and weirded out by how little I trust other human beings.
11) That it's 10:02 and I should've been in bed 30 minutes ago.
12) Jillian Michaels.
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