Murphy ('s Law) defines the weekend

Right. So this past weekend was an in/out Shabbat, meaning we could either stay at Mayanot, or leave. Bit of a reminder, I am living and studying with about 30 women between the ages of 19 and 29. 24 hours a day. Women are weird. I decided I needed to get away. My very gracious friend T, hearing how stressful the situation in the seminary was sometimes getting, offered to let me come to his apartment in the suburb for the weekend, while he would be spending Shabbat at his parents’ home in the city. It would be nearly a 3 hour train trip from Jerusalem to T’s, but I couldn’t pass up the offer. If for no other reason, his guest room has a queen size bed, and I sleep on a bed that is 2.5’ by 6’. I decided to take the train, a little bit more comfortable than the bus. Leaving from Jerusalem Malkah at 11:34 am Friday morning, I would then arrive to Tel Aviv at 1:03 pm, getting onto the next train at 1:19, and arriving at my final destination at 2:48, where T would pick me up from the train before heading to his parents’ home in time for Shabbat, which began at 4:25 pm.
Around noon, the rain began. At 12:30, about 15 minutes after passing by a bunch of camels, the train stopped. Due to the rain. 15 more minutes later, the announcer informed us that due to some technical issues, we would be stuck another few minutes. Around 1 pm, still at least 20 minutes from Tel Aviv, we still weren’t going anywhere. I had missed the 1:19 train for sure. There would only be one more train according to my train schedule before Shabbos came in. The woman sitting in my compartment, coincidentally, was heading to the same connection as me, only intending to go four stops farther than I was. She managed to tell me what was going on, because all the announcements were in very fast Hebrew.
I called T to tell him what was going on. We decided I would keep him posted. I apologized via SMS, to which he responded “it’s not your fault.” Which of course means he is annoyed and cannot say so.
I finally arrive to Tel Aviv at 2 pm, an hour late. It should be another 75 minutes to my destination (once I am on a train). Okay, still doable. Except- the next train is going to be 15 minutes late. And then 40 minutes late. Now it is 3pm. I call T, not sure what to do. Should I still even bother coming? How will I get there? He needs to leave for his parents’ if he will make it in time…
He calls me right back; he is at the grocery store, buying food for me. I am worried about making things all hectic for him, causing issues with Shabbos; he is concerned he won’t buy the right food for me, that I won’t have enough to eat, and tells me he is getting me meatballs with peas, spiced potatoes, and a challah. Am I sure that will be enough? I am trying to convince him he doesn’t need to go out of his way to take care for me, I can manage, I had packed a couple of avocados and a pomegranate…he keeps asking if I want anything else, and I start to laugh. At the whole situation. He asks why I am laughing; how do I explain how funny it is that here I am, seemingly the most high maintenance friend ever, screwing up Shabbat because of the trains being all balagon, and he is only concerned with whether I will be hungry.

(side story: also on the platform, standing not too far away, is one of the most obviously German men I have ever seen before; later on, I hear him speaking to someone. He says he is Canadian. His English and Hebrew have the strongest accent I have ever heard. Weird people.)

Finally a train arrives, at 3:15 pm. Not sure if it will go all the way to where I need to go. No one seems to know. I ask a train attendant, asking him if I need to be worried that the train will suddenly stop, say “Shabbat Shalom” and leave me stranded in a place that is not my final destination. He assures me I won’t be abandoned. I believe him.

I call Hayley again, for about the eighth time in this whole debacle. I tell her my latest update, and about how sweet T is being, and how I laughed at him. She sees the humor in the situation.

The train is the only train for more than the last hour, in place of where four trains should have been, and is the last train before Shabbat. I have no choice but to stand for the next hour plus. I call T, tell him I am on the train. We are both pretty sure it won’t be going as far as I need to. I will have to take a taxi from the last stop that the train makes. Shit. Maybe it will go quickly, make it the distance.
Or maybe not. We get to the last stop on the train. Everyone gets off. There is no one left working at the station for me to ask for help. I call a friend of mine from the States who is also living in Israel, since he has a lot of friends where I am suddenly standing, dumbfounded. He happens to be there, too, so while he doesn’t know how to help me get to T’s, if I decide to stay where I am, I can just join him and his friends. Except a big bed and good food are waiting for me.
I share a cab with a Swedish guy going even farther than I am. The price of my journey just doubled from 50 to 100 shek.

Thankfully, I get to the apartment, find the keys left for me in the fuse box, and let myself in. I left Mayanot at 10:30 am, Jerusalem at 11:34 am, and have finally arrived, 90ish miles away, at 5:30 pm. Yeah.
Good sides, T got me the greatest challah I have ever had, and the food was delish. I watched Pride and Prejudice (streamlined), took a shower, ate my pomegranate, and went to bed, like a starfish (meaning all stretched out).
Overnight, there was a huge thunderstorm. Luckily, I had had the foresight to unplug the computers in case the power went out. I am psychic. It did. The next morning, I didn’t shower. Didn’t use the computer. Didn’t open the fridge. However, avocado and challah is very tasty.
After Shabbos, T calls to see how things are going. I tell him about the power, and he tells me how to fix it, which I manage to do, and eventually can then shower. It is good.

The next morning, Sunday, I head to Tel Aviv again, meeting up with Hayley and Laneia in order to go to the Egyptian embassy to get our visas for Cairo. We get there at 10:30. By the time we get to the window, we are informed that we need to fill out the forms, get photos taken, and photocopy our passports. And that the desk will be closing for the day in 2 minutes. WTF.
We resign ourselves to needing to handle Egypt another time, and meet up with the dearly departed (from Mayanot to Tel Aviv) Anna for lunch, and then head to her apartment for coffee, cake, and air conditioning before heading back to Jerusalem.

In a nutshell, Israrail has not heard the last from me.