Interesting New York phenomenon:

It is inevitable that on the days that I am truly looking my worst, I am the recipient of that plague of all gothamettes: the construction worker/ delivery man/etc. cat call. First off, the entire practice of calling after women passing by is just ridiculous and distruptive to the long chain of thought I was inevitably engrossed in. As if any of us are going to stop in our tracks, turn around and ask the caller out on a date or for a quick smooch--particularly when they are so often considerably shorter than we are. But secondly, at least in my experience, more often than not it happens when I'm hardly a walking vision. Take today:

This morning I hit the snooze button no fewer than 5 times which automatically means that there is no time to shower, resulting in slightly greasy hair with odd fly-aways halo that gets worse as I sweat during my morning subway commute--gross factor 1. Was walking zombie, so threw on clothes from the top of the drawer resulting in less than inspired wardrobe. Have been blowing nose all day, causing the office to run out of tissues and forcing me to resort to paper napkins (ouch!) so have raw red nose and vaguely medicine-head dazed look about me--gross factor 2. Combined with a haze of sheer exhaustion brought on by 5,000 consecutive rounds of solitaire does not a knock-em dead dame make. Yet, strangely enough! was hollered at by a crowd of off-duty construction workers--in a language I do not understand (ironic that cat-calling seems to transcend language whereas asking directions never quite does)-- and was then told by a virtual stranger that I was lookin' pretty. Disregarding the fact that my dark sungalsses were hiding my puffy cold-hazed eyes, the latter comment was vaguely reassuring. However, still, how odd! And the fact that the strangers of New York City seem to feel I'm looking my best when I'm decidedly in shlump mode doesn't reflect well on what I look like when I'm actually trying to look good. Conundrum.

Anyway, have given up all pretense of trying to do something productive and have given into office trend of listening to music. Have been tuned into Galgalatz, the Israeli Army radio station which I frequently listen to online, and am desperately missing Israel! Between the radio and chats with Mara I cannot wait until I visit again and really do need to dive back into learning Hebrew. It's just plain embarassing that I don't have a working knowledge of any foreign languges, and will prove to be incredibly inconvenient when I finally manage to travel the world.

In other news, a recent study on psychadelic, or magic, mushrooms is making me nervous. According to the study, two-thirds of the participants who took magic mushrooms reported having euphoric experiences that were startlingly impactful and spiritual, some likening it to the elation of giving birth. While a full third reported having bad trips which scared them or made them feel awful, I'm afraid that the study's results are going to encourage people to experiment with magic mushrooms without looking into it and the possible consequences. Taking halucinagenic drugs is SO SO dangerous, and I know of several people who have died, including a kid at Brandeis two years ago who killed himself by slitting his throat and jumping out a second-story window while tripping on mushrooms. I may sound like a "mommy" or a public service announcement, but I'm really scared that people are going to take the results of the study as encouragement to experiment without realizing the huge dangers that are all too commmon. While the study is important because it may lead to distilling elements of the mushrooms to use in anti-depressant medication, I really hope news agencies take care when reporting the story. OK, that's it for the safety report.

I'm unusually excited for tonight's All-Star Game. I've been very into baseball this year, finally managing to watch whole games unlike last summer when I would often be so exhausted from camp that I would fall asleep before the 5th inning--however, am watching far fewer than I would like as I have to defer to my mom on occaision and she decidedly does NOT like watching baseball. Silly woman. Anyway, I terribly miss my traditional trips to Yankee Stadium for games with Dave Seid who abandoned me this summer to better his intellect with summer courses at Indiana. Silly boy. But I've been keeping better tabs on players this season and have been energetically cheering on my favortite Yankee, Bubba Crosby, who doesn't seem to be benefiting from my support. However, I have faith and I know that my man will come through before the end of the season. Come on number 19!!

Half an hour to freedom! I love the days I get out at 5pm. It's nice to feel like there's actually still some day left when work is over. One of the things I love most about college is that classes don't actually dominate the days. I'm seriously looking forward to senior year, the girls and I have all committed ourselves to numerous adventures, hopefully the Maine coast and a trip to the casino will happen quickly upon arrival. I'm also excited to get back into shooting, hopefully the Trap and Target club will still be going strong, and I'm going to finally track down the silly Habitat for Humanity people and get them to actually put me on their email list. Last time I tried they never added me and their office is in an annoyingly inconvenient spot on campus (yes, yes, right in the center, but on the THIRD FLOOR!) so I never hauled over to rectify. But this year I am determined to build a damned house, even if the effort to get there kills me.

I'm actually also thinking about volunteering with an animal shelter, if I can find one that's easily accessibly from Brandeis. I've gotten into my head that I want a puppy as soon as it's humanly possible for me to house and take care of one, so I figure I better make sure I learn what it actually means to take care of one. Never had a pet, unless you count the hand-me-down goldfish that lasted for 2 days, so this may be an interesting experiment.

Huzzah! Was just informed that there will be work waiting for me tomorrow. Bliss!