Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

Okay, everybody.
This post will border on the personal much like Laredos borders on Texas -- That is "with frequent and unenforced overlap".
The disclaimers are as follows:

1. Ladies, the subject matter is delicate and sometimes graphic.
2. Dudes, you may want a stiff drink before reading this. Maybe two.

If you've come here to read about my PvP exploits over the weekend (almost 1,000 Honorable Kills in Alterac Valley -- Take that, Alliance n00bz!!!1!!!) that will have to wait for another day.
On Friday, Shana and Gwynyth and I officially became Jewish.
I know I tossed out the "personal" disclaimer early on, but if you'd like information on our reasons feel free to email me.
The process of conversion was not quick in that we have all been studying and reading and learning and participating for quite some time.
However, the ceremony itself was a well-defined welcome to our new roles in the Jewish community.
There is a trip to the mikveh and some specific prayers for everyone.
For uncircumcised men, that needs to get done. I figured I was all set until the next to last day of our class when I found out about the hatafah dam brit.
You've read this far, the "personal" disclaimer having not chased you off. Go ahead. Follow the link and then come back. It's worth it, and the rest of this will make no sense unless you know.
So, while Shana and Gwynyth went to the mikveh, I met with the mohel.
I had pictured a retired doctor, eyesight failing, with a tremor in his hands. I suppose that fed my anxiety.
Normally, the process involves a quick jab with an izmel (no link provided because you should know after following the link before last) and a tiny drop of blood which is shown to witnesses.
However, I assume I was nervous or something.
There was a jab, but no bleeding. All blood in my body seemed to have travelled up into my face.
The mohel was perplexed, but professional, so he jabbed again.
Still no bleeding. There were holes, but no bleeding.
At the fourth jab, I'm unashamed to admit that I flinched.
After the sixth bloodless jab (I'm still waiting to see if that was a temple record) the mohel went from stabbing to slashing and the blood finally appeared.
Todd (our Rabbi and friend) later claimed that it was the worst one he had ever attended. It was also the worst one I'd ever attended.
After that, I visited the mikveh and managed to drive us back to the temple for the actual ceremony.
And that, my friends, should put to rest any of the rumors that I am not rugged and, indeed, manly. Beneath this attractive Jewish facade beats the heart of a real manly-type man. A real manly-type man who wishes that heart would provide blood on the first jab.
And a real manly-type man who put off going to the restroom until hours later, after dark, when there was no chance he might accidentally see the injury and pass out, even though he had to go really, really bad.