Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The Sting

It’s been a rough few days. I’ve been to the police station three times, I’ve been in the back of a cop car, and I’ve orchestrated a sting operation. No, I am not joking. But yes, it's kind of funny now, in retrospect.

My iPhone was stolen this past weekend. I naively left it on my desk at work. But then again, who would steal a phone from someone’s personal workspace? Especially in a yogic environment?

An a-hole. Not only did he steal a phone, the thief texted “f*** uu” to my boyfriend, replying to a text that didn’t exactly warrant an expletive response:
My boyfriend: “There’s a guy doing yoga in the window of lulu lemon.”
The Phone Thief: “F*** uu”

Of course The Phone Thief just wanted to make a few bucks. My phone ended up at one of those jewelry shops where they “BUY AND SELL DIAMONDS.” (Which I’ve learned implies: “We buy/sell your stolen goodies!”) I know this because an employee at the store contacted me the night after my phone was stolen. I was at a jazz club with some friends, my replacement phone secured safely in my purse. When we left the club to go to a different bar I checked my new phone. I had 13 text messages from a random 347 number. And they were creepy:
“Did u loose a phone”
“My name is [Hebrew name] pls call me”
“A lil black kid came to my store In the city and sold it to me”
“I c that ure Jewish trying to help u out r u ok ? Do u want it back lol”
“Anyways if u want it u can come to [address] [name of the store] jewelers ask for [nickname]
“U don’t really seem to care or believe will u pls answer is it to good to b true”

I replied that yes I did want my phone back. Could he meet me at a coffee shop the next day? (I figured a public place would be safe, and I would bring backup: my boyfriend.) But The Guy Who Bought the Stolen Phone insisted I come to his jewelry shop; he said it was “kool : )” Yikes. I asked if he could meet that night? (Let's get this over with.) He said only if I bought him drinks, smiley face. Oy. This was getting uncomfortable. I couldn’t help thinking about everything he had access to on my phone. Had he seen my pictures? There was nothing incredibly risqué. There were, however, pics of me in an itsy bitsy tiny weeny bikini (at the beach). I felt violated and a bit freaked out.

I was in a sticky situation. On the one hand, I did want my phone (and its contents) back. On the other hand, I didn’t want to have to meet the shadeball in possession of my phone. So I went to the 5-0 again. (I had filed a police report earlier.) The cops were cringing when they heard what The Guy Who Bought the Stolen Phone had been saying to me. We crafted a few more responses to his texts, and I told The Guy I'd meet him the following day.

The following day: I went back to the Po-Po for Operation Get My Phone Back. I sat in the stinky waiting room for what seemed like forever. (I suppose they were busy with crimes bigger than Petit Larceny.) Then two cops I hadn’t yet met came out and said “Let’s go.” I thought Umm wait don’t you need some information? They just asked me my name and the address of the shady jewelry store. And then we got in the cop car. And FYI the back of a cop car is not roomy. I awkwardly peered through the bars dividing me and my team, waiting for THE PLAN. Radio silence. (Until of course something came through on their radio.) I was thinking Where’s my bulletproof vest?? But instead I made small talk-
Me: “Do you do this sort of thing often?”
My Team: “No.”

Then we arrived. We parked directly in front of the shady jewelry store. I had expected we’d be a little more discreet and at least park around the corner! My heart was pounding. I wasn’t ready to face the creepy Guy Who Bought the Stolen Phone. Fortunately I didn’t have to. My SWAT team told me to stay put, standing right beside the cop car. They went in. They talked to The Guy Who Bought the Stolen Phone. And they came out, with my phone. We got back in the car. And my team and I recouped. Apparently The Guy had had the nerve to tell the cops he should at least get some money for the phone. They reminded him that it was STOLEN. And that was that. And then I got a ride to work in the back of a cop car.


P.S. What I learned the hard way… My advice to everyone with a smartphone:
1. Put a passcode on your phone. Period.
2. If you have an iPhone, connect your phone to iCloud.
3. If you have an iPhone, download the “Find my iPhone” app.
4. Never leave your phone unattended.
5. Don’t even use white earbuds; use black, incognito ones. (The cops told me this tip. Thieves target people using white earbuds.)

P.P.S. Did you hear about this? I heard about it at the police station, when a reporter from the New York Post was trying to get the scoop from the cops. 

Monday, February 13, 2012

Home Sweet Home

I’m home sick today so I think it’s the perfect time to share pics of our apartment. See below for a sneak-peak of our humble abode. 

Living Space

The Living Room is really coming together. It’s already comfy, and once we have curtains and some more wall art it’ll be even more homey (and aesthetically pleasing). 

DIY “Media Center”

We’re using bookcases as our Media Center, and we've added lanterns to make the area feel extra cozy. 

Room With a View

This is the view from our living room. Come Fall the foliage makes it really lovely. 

Our Plant, Willoughby

Perched on the kitchen windowsill, Willoughby is getting tons of light. 

Bedroom Window

To lighten up the protective bars I like to place flowers (in ball jars) on the sill. 

Zoom in on the Label...

This cracks me up. (And kinda makes me feel safe.)

(More images to come once I’ve done a little more decorating…) There’s so much I want to do with the place! I’ve been obsessed with nesting via Pinterest. Check out my board.


Friday, February 10, 2012

They say it's your birthday

Yesterday was my birthday, but fortunately yogis don’t age.

This spot-on card made me laugh:


Photo Credits- ivillage & someecards

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Bought with love…

The best Valentine’s Day gifts are the ones you can share (with your significant other, best friend, Mom, whoever!) Here’s my V-Day Gift Guide:

Tickets to a Comedy Show
Get giddy together (and pray the two of you don’t become comedian prey…) I’ve been wanting to check out the Comedy Cellar, and I’d love to see Aziz Ansari!

A Couples Massage (or Spa Day with a Friend/ Mom/Sister…)
Clearly a win/win situation. I like Townhouse Spa and Silk Day Spa in NYC.

A Wine Class
Get some wine education while sipping with your sweetie. My friend Jacki (who has impeccable taste and who also really appreciates a good time) recommends Vintners.

A Clean Home
(Great gift for a roommate) No matter how hard I work at keeping the apartment tidy, it just feels so much cleaner when a professional comes in and works her magic. Ask around for recommendations or email for NYC suggestions.

A Private Duet Yoga Session
Share your love of yoga with a special someone! Or if you’re new to yoga, try it with another newbie. I recommend YogaWorks (of course). Email to set up a session.

Happy V-Day,

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Book of Mormon (get tix now for Valentine's Day 2013)

I have a confession to make. I don’t love South Park. And I wasn’t particularly impressed with Matt Stone and Trey Parker when I “met” them on 60 Minutes. So when I bought tickets to The Book of Mormon for my bf back in September (for his bday in October) the gift was truly selfless. (If I had gotten tickets to, say, the RHCP “for him,” that would’ve really been for me…) Sure, I wanted to see The Book of Mormon, but I wasn’t like dying to get to the show. And the literal 6-month wait for tickets seemed a little over-the-top. But alas, anything for my main squeeze. 

So last week we went to see The Book of Mormon. In retrospect, I should’ve looked at the Ticketmaster seat map and chosen with a discerning eye rather than pick “first available tickets” when purchasing our seats via my blackberry while on a train to Montauk… I mean our seats weren’t the worst, but they weren’t good. But it didn’t matter. The Book of Mormon was AMAZING, in a perverse, ridiculous and hilarious sort of way. And it told a lovely story about humanity; it didn’t just ridicule Mormonism. Going into it, I was sure the show was over-hyped…

"The best musical of this century. So impeccably produced on every level.” – The New York Times

“The perfect Broadway musical.” – Entertainment Weekly

“The filthiest, most offensive and-surprise-sweetest thing you'll see on Broadway this year, and quite possibly the funniest musical ever.” – Vogue Magazine

But The Book of Mormon wasn’t over-hyped. It exceeded my expectations. And hopefully the birthday boy’s too. 

P.S. Did you know you can pay for standing room only? Seems a little silly, but I think it’s worth it! See here for the complete list of tips for getting tix, brought to you by The Book of Mormon.

Friday, February 3, 2012

What do you want to be when you grow up?

This New Yorker cartoon by Mischa Richter is spot on.

With the exception of my bf Justin, I don’t know anyone my age who predicted his/her current career. (I’ve been told that at a young age Justin carried around his Dad’s briefcase, dubbing it his “Litigation Bag” and foreshadowing his law job.) 

When I was little I wanted to be a dentist or a haircutter. I remember saying I liked the tools.

Now my tools are intangible; they’re just who I am:
My ability to curate and communicate – i.e. this blog.
My empathy, which allows me to make a connection with each and every person I meet at work.
And so many more!! :) 

The best jobs are the ones that incorporate your innate abilities. Justin happens to be wicked smart, especially in terms of critical thinking. He’s a natural lawyer. And I’m a complete klutz; you don’t want me cutting your hair or cleaning your teeth. You do, however, want me (I hope) writing intriguing blog entries in my spare time, creating a custom yoga program for you when I’m on the job, and teaching you the exact Counter Actions necessary to achieve the perfect Adho Mukha Svanasana when I’m instructing a private yoga session.

These things I do now couldn’t have been predicted 20, or even 5 years ago. And I like to think I’m not “there” yet: grown up. But at least I’m “there” in terms of doing what I want to be doing. And as my brilliant Yoga Teacher Chrissy Carter says (much more eloquently than I’m paraphrasing here) there really is no “there” – “there” is where you are in this very moment. 


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