In a Sea of Orange

A Hamsa Boy waved at me. That's right--I'm a total hottie. Well, okay, I'm a total dork, but still--I felt pretty darn special.

Imagine: There's a float with THE Hamsa Boys. They're all singing. One of them notices me. Our eyes meet across half of 5th Avenue (he was in the middle of the avenue on the float). He's looking at me. I'm looking at him. He waves to me. I quickly look away because I'm officially laughing really hard and I don't want him to think I'm laughing at him because I'm not...really...laughing at him. Y'know, I'm just kinda laughing with him. Oy, okay.

Anyway, the parade was cool. Saw this one and that one. Everyone was in orange. You'd think the Israel parade would be a great place to wear an IDF tee (since I can't wear mine to Hunter or they'd kill me), but it was probably just the absolute worse place for that this year. I was anyway just wearing a white skirt and blueish top and a blue and orange necklace (that I, ahem, made myself). Okay, that is all.