Heather, I'm sorry it's hard. But you are strong, and your help will be so appreciated.

beth, glad everyone's checked in.

Still thinking of Heather here.

Shall I take it as a good sign that it's going to be a splendid, temperate day here today? With fluffy clouds, low humidity, birds atwitter and all that?

I got up early enough this morning that I didn't understand the function of my alarm clock. And it was dark. And there was fog. And other people were out there, driving around, and I hated them a whole lot. The highway made me hate them more. And I had to drive to work really, really fast, because they had coffee there, and oh my god, coffeeeeeeee.

I'm avoiding the desks of certain morning people coworkers, because I seem to be all id, and I think my id has kung fu grip today.

Heather, I hope things end in the best possible way, for you and yours. Thoughts and well-wishes and all the ~ma I can send are coming in that direction.

And I think it's wonderful, the way you try to do whatever you can in such difficult circumstances. Oh, and please don't forget to take some care of yourself, as well, OK?

[Edited to try and be a part of the conversation:

When I really like movie, be it at home or in the theater (though, better, of course, in the big dark room in front of the big screen where the real world can be kept outside for a bit), I tend to get completely inside the world of the movie. I can notice later that I cried or laughed out loud or gasped or jumped in my seat, but mostly later, or it should be pointed out to me (um, in crying, sometimes by my actual tears, but still).

It takes that "falling in love" in a movie for me to respond to it so outwardly (is that a word?), but if/when that happens, I'm so immersed that the people around me are less there than the story and world and characters in the moving pictures and sounds, so I don't really mind responding that strongly in front of them, be they strangers or friends - they're less there than the story.

Last week I went to see "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" with friends, and I had a wonderful time. On the intermission, one of my friends went to the bathroom, and when she returned she had to tell me that she heard gossip about me from the booth next to hers - commenting about that "girl who laughed so loudly in front" (we were at the most front occupied row, so it had to be me), followed by attempts to imitate that strange girl's laughter. When she told me that, and I laughed out loud at the story, I was conscious about my laughter, but there was nothing I could do about it, I don't know how to laugh in any other way, you know?

My friend T keeps telling people they should watch "Firefly" only with me, so that they can mock my responses (like, um, tearing up each and every time I watch the ending of "Out of Gas"). If When "Serenity" gets to Israel, most likely we'll go together, and she'll totally make sure to sit next to me so that she can monitor my responses and store them for future mocking. That's what good friends are for, I guess.]

A new bakery just opened across the street. I now have a doughnut. I'm not sure what to call it. It looks like a little loaf of bread. It is yummy. My id is pleased.

The radio station I'm listening to is having people call in and pledge money to the Red Cross. In about 15 minutes, they've just gotten close to $100,000.

t edited because I missed a zero in that number.

I couldn't sleep last night, and I ended up watching Tennis. It was some young unknown against Nadal, and I was so rooting for the other guy, whose name I can't remember, because Nadal was wearing Manpris! They were giving me the heebie jeebies.

(like, um, tearing up each and every time I watch the ending of "Out of Gas")

I can't understand not crying at the end of Out of Gas, even though I don't often cry because of films and TV shows.

A new bakery just opened across the street. I now have a doughnut. I'm not sure what to call it. It looks like a little loaf of bread. It is yummy. My id is pleased.

Dunkin' Donuts used to make crullers. Not the kind in a circle (although they did those too, but called them French Crullers, I think), but an oblong, yet twisted donut. They stopped. Now I think all their donuts are mass produced (at least at the shops around here, they are) and they make what they call "sticks". The crullers were much better.

Mom called around 7 this morning Matthew couldn't get in touch with his mother to let her know he was ok. He called grandmother who was trying to call his mother, and has now gotten her and my mother who called me.

More than a little relieved, and now I have to run to work. Thanks for the thoughts, and I didn't want anyone worrying now that we've located him.

Nilly! I took a look at my postcard last night and the best I can tell, it is a picture of some building on stilts with people underneath. Kristin and I were looking at it last night and I discovered that the description of the picture is in Hebrew, so I sent it to school with her so someone could maybe translate it.