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Monday, May 23, 2011

Monday, September 20, 2010

How Far Must a Man Go for a Kiss These Days?

I sometimes wonder what happens to those lost conversations…
He texts you out of the blue…you text him back…he texts you a question or cute little something…you text him back…and then…NOTHING.
Hmmmm.

After all the back and forth correspondences, texts, bbms, voice mails (well, maybe no voice mails), but seriously. What about my last question or comment actually ended our conversation?

So, a week has gone by since our last intimate moments…fine…fine…we shared a kiss (and a few beers)…so why do I find myself wondering if he’s still alive?

In fact…If I recall correctly, he basically came out of nowhere…he pursued me out of left field and I wasn’t even that interested in the whole situation in the first place. He’s an all American, baseball hat wearing, (probably video game playing) 30-something year old upper east sider (and not the Madison Ave./ 5th Avenue type of upper east sider).


Before I decide to totally bash him, I must say that when he put his hands on your shoulders at the bar and said, “take my number, we should totally hang…give in to temptation…” I sort’a did as I was told. I mean, what did I have to lose?
NOTHING!

So we met.

This is what it feels like…
he's totally engaged in YOU.
he's engaged in your stories.
your backpacking summer 2003 stories.
your college stories.
Some white lies
Some smiles

He put his hands on my thighs at the bar and confessed he wanted to kiss me.
AMAZING…YES!!!!

We leave the bar and hail me a taxi…he kisses me goodnight.

His large hands on the small of my back and he towers over me…

The taxi driver honks in the middle of Amsterdam Ave., “let’s go!”

We stop kissing…he giggles.

It's a week (and change) later...
He’s officially disappeared…I’m totally confused but only care to write about it.
How far must a man go to get a kiss these days?

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Kick’n it Café Mogador (Thank you Neil)

“Yaeli! I am on my way and should be there in 15 minutes. My friend Pablo (from LA) and Neil (Douche bag from the other night) are already sitting at the bar waiting for our table!” (Voicemail Benn left on my phone @ 8:42pm Friday May 28th).

Neil???? Did Benn just say Neil’s coming to OUR dinner? It was supposed to be just me and Benn (the French Moroccan from Barcelona who moved here from LA a few months ago).

Benn’s thick French accent resonated in my head as I rolled my yoga mat into my bag. I was running late as it was to our Friday night dinner plans at Café Mogador on St. Marks (between 1st Ave and Ave A). Having both grown up in traditional Jewish homes, Benn and I decided a few days earlier that we’d have Friday night dinner together since our families are far away with mine in Miami and his in Montreal and Casablanca.

Benn and I have been doing a ton of Bikram together. We get together for a few hours a week to sweat together (HOT), practice yoga together, and basically talk about everything EXCEPT for dating! I like Benn. I try and flirt with him but he just won’t have it…

Side note: After that evening at the Box, I completely put Neil off the radar, and now he was coming to MY dinner plans with Benn & friends (I could kill someone). I was looking forward to seeing Benn and meeting his friend Pablo from Barcelona who now lives in LA. I don’t think I was ready to see Neil. I don’t know why? I mean the man screams testosterone from miles away! But then again…he’s a dirt bag right?

8:57pm (Leaving Bikram Yoga LES on Allen & Stanton and heading to Café Mogador on St Marks)
I struggled not to sweat too much on my walk up from Allen Street to St. Marks. Though you check out of the yoga studio, your body still thinks it’s in camel pose and refuses to stop sweating profusely (or at least mine does)! My leggings were sticking to me in all the wrong places, my hair was soaking wet and dripping down the back of my neck and into my tank top, my palms were sweaty and my heart was racing. I was hot and cold and excited and frustrated all at the same time (OY)!.
I turned the corner onto St Marks, and approached the restaurant. Outside was a crowd of trendy, international locals (oxymoron of the week). I scanned the outside for Benn but he hadn’t gotten there yet (damn it!!). My body temperature was finally coming back down to normal and I quickly put on my James Perese Henley. I was about to sit down on the bench outside and wait for Benn to show up until…”Yael! Ciao! GOOD TO SEE YOU!!!!”

I looked up at the tall handsome man and the oversized Polo player on the left side of his navy shirt. His hair was slicked back and his jeans were nice and fitted. He gave me a hug and planted a kiss on each of my rosy cheeks. He smelled good. Clean. Man.
We exchanged several words. I played it cool. Didn’t have much to say anyway. I wanted to hate him for being a Douche the other night, but I don’t think I really cared enough. I pretended to listen as he told me about how he’d been over the past few days…I cut him off, “Let’s go inside and Benn’s arrived with his friend Pablo!”

10:22pm Café Mogador to Rockwood Music Hall
Benn arrived just in time for everyone to reacquaint themselves with one other. Benn’s friend Pablo is an ADRABLE Barcelonan (made that word up) with a thick Spanish accent. He is visiting NYC for 15 days, some work, some play. We were seated next to each other and flirted the entire time (how fun)! The common denominator at the table was Benn. To the right of me, the gentlemen were speaking Spanish. At one point I think I attempted to communicate in French but nothing came out but Italian words like, “where is the bathroom,” or “where is the duomo?” I was being my usual self and cracking jokes and sneaking in some snarly comments about what I think of men who lie about their dating status… and do what I do best, laugh at myself while I’m at it!

I must say how pleased I was when the bill came…the men do what they do best and covered the bill ;-)

Shoot me for saying that but in all honesty, chivalry is NOT dead and I L-O-V-E it!!!

We all knew we weren’t ready to go home so Benn suggested I take the lead and pick our next venue. In the interest of staying local (and not schlepping my yoga mat and bag cross-town), I suggested we go hear some live music at Rockwood (www.rockwoodmusichall.com).

11:00pm Rockwood Music Hall & a whole lot’a Neil!
I can’t remember exactly when it was in the evening, but at some point, Neil decided it was TIME. He decided “now is the perfect time I’m going to confess what's on my mind!” As Pablo and Benn were at the bar waiting for us, I kept thinking to myself how awful this may look since all my credibility to Benn & his friends was out the window (thank you Neil for f*@&cking it up)… Neil leaned in closer to make sure I could hear him over the music, and told me how he couldn’t stop thinking about me and had meaning to call me all week (bull$hit,bull$hit). How when we first met, that night out on the town how much fun we had and how ‘on the same page’ we were and how we had this raw connection he didn’t want to lose…hmmmm…that’s interesting…yet another man validating that I’m not in fact crazy and to even dare to think that we shared anything special made me feel slightly less delusional.

I let Neil speak his drunk mind...I gave him the floor till he felt he had nothing left to say. I didn’t look him in the eye because every time I did I believed every word of bull$hit that came out of his mouth. Instead, I looked at the heavyset saxophone player on stage while Neil confessed his love for me (YEAH RIGHT)!!!

Neil finished telling me all these amazing things I deeply wish were true…he always had an extra word to put in…I simply had nothing to say. I wanted to forget about him (as I did the week leading up to Mogador) and so I stayed strong and smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek and said, “Cherie…we’re all good…no worries!”

Before Neil could say another word, I needed to save face with Benn at the bar. I felt a little uncomfortable since the elephant in the room was the fact that Neil’s found his pray (me), Benn knows about it and I want to have nothing to do with it (except I can’t help but fantasize about the big’old WHAT IF?)

Benn and I locked eyes as he handed me an Amstel Light OMG I love him…
He gave me that look of “ummm you cool?”
I really didn’t know what to do or say, it wasn’t even a big deal until I turned to face the stage. The performer on stage was a Nathalie Portman type; petite brunette with understated beauty. She had the voice of Aretha Franklin and Billy Holiday. She swayed her hips from side to side and caressed the microphone like it was the face of her own child. She was sexy. Watching her made me sway my hips from side to side…I took a sip of my beer, closed my eyes, and moved to her music…(enter Neil)…

My eyes were closed, my had thrown back…the music was loud but soothing…moving my body and swaying my hips to the music...
My eyes were closed and I let myself go to a place where everything is perfect. I was in a movie…a love story actually. Neil wasn’t full of $hit and him and Benn planned the whole thing weeks ago…it was perfect!

I opened my eyes and turned around to look at Neil…I wanted to push him and say “don’t F*@&#CK with me dude,” but instead I looked over his shoulder and noticed Benn and the crew were gone…
I texted Benn asking him where they were. My phone buzzed a moment later…
“Yaeli, I am home! Enjoy…see you tomorrow”
I didn’t understand why they would have left.

Neil and I exchanged some words on our walk home. I would be lying if I said he didn’t try (again)…but homeboy’s got to step up and show me what a man he really is.
He suggested we go out to dinner on Monday.

“I know you are going away tomorrow to the country with Benn, but when you get back, I would love to take you to dinner…”

I said yes…
We were supposed to go to my all time favorite sushi joint below 14th, Tomo Sushi on Thompson St. between Houston and Bleeker.

Benn and I made arrangements to leave our country holiday earlier so I could make it back in time for our dinner.

May 31 2:38pm
He cancelled…

Despite my cancelled date last night...Benn and I had the BEST weekend in the country together...stay tuned for my next post "Kick'n it in the Country w/Benn"

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Dating Man Hattan Part II; D is for Douch?!



THE BOX (WWW.THEBOXNYC.COM)

We walked from Rockwood Music Hall on Allen St. (rockwoodmusichall.com‎) to The Box on Chrystie St. (www.theboxnyc.com). I know, I know, I skipped a few details…rewind…for the blog’s sake, we’ll refer to my Thursday night crush (a passionate fixation on a particular attractive individual of the same or opposite sex) who’s name will be Neil.

(11PM- Leaving Apotheke)...since it was a Thursday night and we all had REALLY important things to do the following morning, we collectively decided to call it a night as early as 11pm. Since I (literally) stumbled upon Rockwood Music Hall the week before after leaving my bff's 29th birthday party @ Thompson Hotel Allen St. She's one of those hot mama's I recently mentioned in my SWF vs. MILFS we discussed in my earlier blogs...I decided to check out who was jamming on the piano and perhaps hear some good tunes before I retired to my Avenue A adorable studio apartment.

“Lele, you wanna come? John Mayer’s predecessor will sing us a lullaby!” I asked my family friend, “yaeli what world do you live in??…I need to wake up for the gym tomorrow…I have a charity in two weeks and going to Tel Aviv in a few weeks…ladies must maintain”…Lele smirked and I gave her a nasty look of envy for being the more responsible one and for having a better body…but whatever...I’m a romantic and my mixed potion from Apotheke was telling me I needed to go to Rockwood!
Neil chimed in…”You’re going out? I wanna go out! Let’s go!”
I smile & say OK!

(11:38pm-Arrive to Rockwood Music Hall)
We arrived @ the little music joint serving fancy wine and international beer on tap, I squeeze my way through the crowd to the lady’s room, leaving Neil @ the bar…

When I made my way back to the bar where Neil was patiently waiting with a glass of…”You said you liked spicy red wine, so that’s what I ordered you…is that ok?” I wanted to die! What 30-something (barely 30 in fact) American BOY would ever be that attentive? NONE! Precisely my point!

I really tried to pretend I wasn’t even slightly interested... I swear, there were conversations that night with no verbal dialogue...i KNOW it wasn’t bull sh—t…or maybe I was just hoping it wouldn’t be.

(12:55pm-Why did I ever say yes to get us into The Box?!)
“Isn’t the box around here?” Neil…
“yes, it’s right up the street, on the next block, why?” I asked (as if I didn’t know what was coming next).
“well…do you think we should go? Do you know anyone that could get us in no hassle?”
(OBVIOUSLY!!! DOES HE KNOW WHO HE’S DEALING WITH???) “umm?? Sure! My girlfriend runs the parties and manages the shows…I go whenever I want since it’s in my hood,” (oh my GD! Did I just say that out loud??!! What is wrong with me??!!! Who am i??!!)
“Let’s go Yaeli...”
….and we’re off….

Right…he said that they BROKE up. I don’t know if I really cared at the moment, I can’t even tell if I was truly listening to his reason…SINGLE! HE’S SINGLE!!!! That’s all I heard 

We roll up to the Box at little before 1am. I approached the super attractive eastern European doorman with his skullcap and military jacket. He smiled at me…I flirt back...before I had a chance to spit another word out; I heard a voice coming up from behind me “OMG!! YAEL??” (hug, hug, kiss, kiss) “Gance, they’re with me!”
Neil and I cut the line and strolled in to the dark Moulin Rough(esque) old brownstone where, “ANYTHING GOES” on our imaginary red carpet with my girl D, who runs the joint. (I felt cool)

Super cool.

She was on her night off and was kick’n it bar side instead. Neil bought the four of us a round of drinks.

D stares me down and complements my “oh so Chanel attire Yael! Only you!” (I felt super super cool). Who knew you could pull off a Burkin bag, vintage channel jumbo pearls, and shoulder pads in a chiffon camisole with cigarette pants and ballet flats @ the Box??!! Last time I was here I was in gold Nike air force ones, wayfarers and short denim shorts! The only thing missing was my tattoo (I’m too scared to get one but really want one)…back on track.

I wanted to show off a lil’bit more and told Neil (who’s never been there before) I would give him a tour of the Box before the sex shows would start in 30 minutes.
I took him upstairs where there was a more intimate setting with a smaller bar and love seats lined up all along the edges of the 2nd floor overlooking the stage and the first floor. Glasses were klinking, girls were giggling, boys were flirting, and the champagne kept on pouring.

(1:23am-The point of no return)
D hooked us up with a small table overlooking the stage.

Neil sat next to me and asked me why I was so tough, why I wouldn't accept anything from him. I didn’t know what to answer him. He asked me about my past relationships and we spoke about what it’s like dating in New York.

I mean, seriously, it’s not a trick question and my answers were straight forward…I truly believe it’s (love/romance/life) black or white. We (human beings) mess it all up by making life one big grey area (too lazy, not enough love, can’t commit, etc)…you’re either into it or you’re not. Simple! Some people can’t deal with rejection, which is why they make excuses…grey…but to me, it’s black or white.
Neil and I got into this a little deeper.

He looked at me like I was crazy…hiding behind my chrome hearts oversized seeing eye glasses that basically engulf half my face…shouting over the music at him, telling him my outlook of life and all…
My cheeks were red and warm from all the wine and my stomach was nice and toasty (one martini w/magic sauce @ Apotheke, one glass of red @ Rockwood & now I’m nursing my 3rd drink).

…From our table to the dance floor to the sex show on stage, and back to our little love seat, we must have done SOMETHING right, because when I got back from the lady’s room to fix my hair and touch up my makeup, I realized I wasn’t wearing my glasses!!! WHAT????!!!! When did that happen?

We searched for them in our booth but we quickly managed to forget about my glasses all together when the master of serimony appeared on stage with her fishnet thigh highs, garter belt, high heeled boots (probably Giussepi if you’d ask me), cristal Madonna like Brah or more like Heidi’s at the Victoria Secret fashion show…side tracked all together…glasses were now an afterthought...

Neil and I decided to call it a night somewhere between 2 and 3. I can’t remember exactly (I know I was in bed sleeping by 3:30ish)…we approached my building and the most unexpected thing happened…”Can I come upstairs?” Neil, asked me…

I couldn’t believe the uber sophisticated French Moroccan from Switzerland who speaks Sapanish as well for reasons I can’t remember even dared to ask me that question!

I WAS INSULTED...

Let me get one thing straight here. THIS WAS NOT A DATE! Had this been a first date, I would have called it a night after ONE glass of wine and the conclusion of dinner.
This was a random, spontaneous fun night out with a handsome individual that turned out to NOT have a girlfriend (or so I thought).

We have mutual friends and have hung out prior to that evening. From our conversations of supply & demand, and politics, and economics, and work and love and family and life in general…I really didn’t think Neil was going to be like the rest of them…


I told him not to be tacky even though he had asked if he could see my place, “I know they didn’t teach you that in boarding school Neil…”

He watched me as I disappeared into the elevator bank and I floated the rest of the way into my studio apartment on avenue A.

I woke up the next morning and realized he never took my number.
I found out from Lele’s friends that he was NOT in fact single
His girlfriend lives in Spain and her name is….

YAEL!!
(what?)

true story

To be continued….

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Dating Man hattan...Part I (What you see is not always what you get)



I know I promised to track my Bikram studio experience, but I’m going to have to follow up with you guys on that one since I’ve had the most outrageous, spontaneous, non-zen, non-yoga, toxin filled last few day. Let me assure you, by no means do I take back or regret my missed days in the sweaty studio (well? Maybe just a little bit) but I must share with you the craziness of being single in this fantastic city and all the $hit that comes along with it.

Last Thursday night, what was supposed to be a mellow evening of dinner and cocktails in SOHO, turned out to be a 3am night ending at The Box. It started off when I bailed on my long overdue manicure appointment and instead met up with a family friend for some champagne and Tuna Tartar @ Delicatessen (http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/delicatassen/). While discussing our weeks and sharing our days, we simultaneously receive a text that read, “I’m at Apotheke, are you ladies going to join us?” (www.apothekebar.com).

6 degree connection (literally)...My friend’s sister’s husband’s friend from Morocco who moved to LA after years in Barcelona and finally made his way to the big city (thank GD), was having drinks with his team and extended an invite. While talking about relevant things, and contemplating whether we should go or not considering it was a Thursday night and it was a beautiful night and it was only 9pm and…hmmm…well? I felt bad as it was that I missed Bikram that night and I knew that if I was to go downtown and meet up with more friends who love to date NYC as much as I do, there would be no way in hell that I would hit the mat the next morning!

“OK! See you soon…we’re on our way” (txt sent from my phone @ 9:27pm)
“C'est parfait! Take Mott all the way down, make a right walk one block make another right” (txt sent from friend’s phone @ 9:32)

Apotheke [ah-poh-tek], (which literally means a pharmacy or drugstore, a place for the art, practice, or profession of preparing, preserving, compounding, and dispensing medical herbs, elixirs and potions), is the site of what once was home to an opium den, and later a Chinese opera house, before hosting a number of different chop suey restaurants (http://www.apothekebar.com/index2abar.html).

After walking in circles for 10 minutes (literally), we finally found the speakeasy tucked away on a small street in Chinatown, 9 Doyer St. to be exact. If I wasn’t a total idiot trusting the French Moroccan who had just moved to New York, I would have just Google mapped it and realized it’s basically one of the last small streets off the Bowery at its end…we made it (to what I thought was my final destination of the evening).

The scene? An after work downtown hipster crowd 20-something pretending to be 30-something and 30-something pretending to be 20-something, cozied up in corners on vintage leather couches.

The Statge? An old chemistry lab turned super cool hang out (I could find better words here but I need to get on with this blog). I watched the model/actor dressed in a white doctor coat mix up my cocktail with such vigor, and top it off with a mint leaf and some clear liquid drops of (I don’t know what). Our international crowd flirted in many languages; the French Moroccan from LA/Barcelona, and his coworker from Slovakia, another handsome cousin of a friend who’s also French Moroccan yet born in Switzerland but also speaks Spanish for some reason I later learned why (but can’t remember)… I leaned over to my girlfriend and whispered to her in Hebrew that I thought he was kinda cute but could have sworn I was told he had a girlfriend from the other friend’s husband who went to high school with the same French Moroccan from LA/Barcelona...OK who could keep track?!?!

What felt like a teenage hormonal filled social triangle on steroids, was merely 30-something available (& not available) New Yorkers nursing their love potion mixed by the too hot for his own good model behind the bar in the white coat while discussing politics, dating, economics, and food.

At one point in the evening the French Moroccan Swiss Jew that spoke my language in every way challenged me, “oh really? Then what is the formula to elasticity of supply & demand?” ($hit!!) My MBA was put to the test and I needed to prove this handsome (sort of but not really & who really knows if he’s single) Meatpacking residing, 5 o’clock shadow shaven, Swiss business man…where was I? Ahh, yes, I needed to prove this man wrong...and before I had a chance to tell him exactly what I knew, he beat me to it…he raised his potent, mystery drink, takes a sip, licks his lips and through a conceited little smirk says, “the change in supply divided by the change in demand...darling”

The conversation continued into a sequence of “what are we doing here? How did we get here? Palestinians or Israeli’s? Republican or Democrat? Diamonds vs. Pearls, flying private vs. flying commercial (as if), Bonds, and Stocks, and, and, finally, the million dollar question…Why are you single and what are you looking for?

I felt like a carrier monkey that needed to be locked up before spreading a terminal disease! The single folk vs. the committed folk. “I just haven’t really found what I’m looking for I guess,” I needed to confirm the unknown, “Well, since you seem to have your PhD in everything professor and have it all figured out and happily committed, why don’t you give me some advise…enlighten me,” I sipped my mystery drink hoping the magic potion inside would take hold.
(to be continued)…be back in a few…

Friday, June 4, 2010

I guess it happens to the best of us!



I know what you must be thinking, but I can assure you that I’m NOT crazy.
Granted my resume can use some work in the dating dept. The last time I tought I was actually in LOVE was when I was 21, he broke my heart after a short 6 months of BLISS & had the nerve to get engaged a year later to someone else. With no true romantic promise on the horizon in my early 20’s and countless failed JDate attempts, Hamptons summer flings or the glamerous Sundance winter break romances were definitely the trend for most of us in our mid 20's. (well my social network at least).


Don't get me wrong here...I’m not scared of never finding Mr.Right...we all know it will happen at some point one way or the other. But, sometimes this big city gets a tad bit lonely after leaving the trading desk, and the Bikram yoga studio.

From after work dinner and drinks at Abe & Arthur’s (http://www.abeandarthursrestaurant.com/), and happy hour at the Standard Boom Boom Room (http://www.standardhotels.com/new-york-city), to countless nights at Apotheke (http://www.apothekebar.com/), and The Box (http://www.theboxnyc.com/html_site/index_noflash.html), my more recent encounters with the opposite sex have been anything but lame…in fact, they’ve been AWESOME! I really couldn’t find a better word to use here, because AWESOME really sums up my dating experiences (especially since I’ve moved into the East Village a year ago).
The major difference now (than when I was in my early and mid 20’s) is that the Hamptons flings and New Years kisses truly mean nothing. They’re just played out (to me). In a world of party and Sex Drugs and Rock’n’Roll, where does one find the ‘good guy,’ that’s looking to get serious?

Is being introduced to someone from a reliable source the only way??
I mean, I’ve been there and done that too…but no interest on their end. When you play the game right (or at least you think you play the game right) and you still fail, where does that leave you?

The end result is growing old with someone…making memories with them and creating your reality with them…however most people spend their entire youth looking for Mr. Right thinking the ultimate goal is the wedding (that’s only the beginning)!!!
Don’t get me wrong. I love dating…I love the newness of meeting someone new and exciting. I love the feeling of unfolding with a new person (both friends and lovers)…seriously though…I just love ‘LOVE’

And we all know we’re out there…and we’ll all meet before you know it (AMEN)!

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Kick'n it in the Bathroom @ The Boom Boom Room


My girl Laura snapping away pictures on her iPhone while fixn' it in a bathroom stall @ the Boom Boom Room @ the Standard Hotel.


The Boom Boom Room
in the Standard Hotel
848 Washington St
(at W. 13th St)
Meatpacking District
New York, NY 10014
212-645-4646





Monday, May 24, 2010

Kick'n it NYC


"Kick'n it NYC"



Hi all...
Since NYC is our playground, I've decided to dedicate this blog (in it's entirety) to our favorite city!
I don't believe in reporting bad reviews...if you have nothing good to day, just don't say it at all. With that said, if something's HOT and SPICY & totally ROCK'N, you can be sure to find it on Kick'n it NYC.
We'll be Kick'n it beach side in the Hamptons, Fire Island, Miami, & the Mediterranean (TLV)...we'll be Kick'n it all over this fantastic city from the LES, to the UES & UWS, to SOHO, NOLita, Tribeca, and the Village (all of it; E & W)...we'll be Kick'n it Central Park, Back Yard BBQ, Rooftop, Patio, and Garden...we'll be Kick'n it in many restaurants, night clubs, lounges, brandy libraries, cabarets, and house parties (my favorite)!
I can't wait to share juicy experiences and stories from your favorite city that never sleeps...there will be 'Sex [no Drusg] & tons of Rock'n Roll"



FOLLOW IT!
(photo: 4am EST @ The Box http://www.theboxnyc.com/)

Saturday, May 22, 2010

kick'n it Miami



GANSEVOORT SOUTH
KICK'N IT WITH MAMMA GROSS


Gansevoort roof top pool party, with mama Gross & Co., mani's and pedi's post morning work out...design district, ice coffee, bal harbour (carpaccio dinner), now kick'n it balcony side overlooking miami's beautiful shore line (GD i wish i was in TLV).
Many stories, many pictures...much to blog about...

When luxury hotelier father & son team of Gansevoort Hotel Group New York, William and Michael Achenbaum brought the hotel to Miami's finest shoreline, I can almost guarantee that the quintisential Miami pool party (what I've experienced today) was not on the original agenda. (vision)

As current managing group of Gansevoort South, Coral Hospitality is clearly trying to:
A)make the Winter Music Conference last a little longer into the summer season, while attracting Jersey's finest and house tunes galore,
B)bring Vegas to the Latin infused turquoise beaches of Miami Beach
C)give New York's notorious Meat Packing district a sexy, southern makeover; the more tattoos, the more muscle, the less bikini...the BETTER!

I never realized that sporting daddy's Daytona on my left wrist with a vintage Chanel tote on my right, and my MOTHER could do such wonders when trying to check into an exclusive, yet trashy (in a young money Miami way), rooftop party.

"My mother and I are guests of guests who are currently on the roof, who's names I am not at liberty to say at the moment..." I checked my watch for the time and quickly looked up at the heavy set bouncer, "They have a cabana by the south end of the pool."

he looked at me and simply didn't care (I could have been Ivanka freak'n Trump and he still wouldn't care)..."your G card ma'am?" he held his hand out.

my mother chimed in with her thick European accent, "this is the line? I just don't get it! does this man understand we are late for...and people are expecting us?"She then turned to me and said something along the lines of "let's just go to neiman, this is too young for me anyway and your cousin will understnad if we don't show...yaeli, i mean look at this place! these people don't know how to dress for the beach? they think they are in the french riviera but they don't even come close!"

She reached for her bberry in her orange Burken and made a quick phone call to the party upstairs...just a little hebrew and a few BS remarks to the security guard and off we were...to the Roof top party!

it's 1:13am and my eyes are 30% open.
I can't wait to share my day with you!

to be continued (tomorrow).

xo

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Love LuLu








I'm slammed at work right now and promise to catch up on some Yoga talk. I've visited the last two studios I've referenced above. Bikram Yoga NYC has 4 studios in Manhattan, UES, UWS, Flatiron, & Midtown West (see Late for a Very Important Date post), all of which are clean and big, but I wasn't as fond of my experience as a whole...will embellish on this when we meet again. Bikram Union Square (by far) is my favorite location! They have the largest blue room studio that's just so comforting to me. Their teachers are A-MAZING!!! In my next post I simply must give a shout out to the teachers that I've been privileged to have. Yoga to the People, Bikram Manhattan, Yoga Works, and Bikram LES, I have yet to cross off my list.

At the moment, I'm feeling great and am still heavy duty involved and committed to Bikram Yoga (the practice in general). I need to decide what I'm going to do for my 30 Day Challenge; Bikram Yoga or Yoga Works (Vinyasa, Power, Pilates, etc).

I'm extremely excited and motivate (& prepared) to commit to Yoga 24/7. I've relinquished my Equinox membership after 5 years of intense training with Yoga on the backburner. I can't decide what the better/smarter move would be; 30 Day Bikram Yoga Challenge or 30 Day Yoga Challenge (30 days of Yoga, upon completions you get a free month and a bunch of free stuff and to top it off, you feel & look great and since it takes 21 days to break or make a habit, June is the perfect month for me to fully commit to this)...any suggestions anyone? I really LOVE the way I feel after Bikram, but I think that if I do Power Flow & Vinyasa & Pilates I'll tone more (& faster)...anyone?? Help here please...I need your opinions.

Tons of exposed skin & swimwear this summer...flip flops, beaters, & cut off shorts on Fire Island for July 4th and Calypso bikinis & Moroccan Kaftans in Tel Aviv at the end of July->Aug...Tons of beach time and Central Park time this summer...I definitely want to make sure I'm drinking a ton of smartwater and eating plenty of raw food.

GD, I sound like a tree hugger. I will not quit till I look HOT in my LuLu lemon "Say No To Camel Toe" hot shorts (there...spoiled rotten NYC chick...feel so much better now).

Walk to Defeat ALS


In memory of my uncle Leo Ison...this is for you!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

PHOTOS...COMING REAL SOON!

Monday, May 10, 2010

SWF vs. The MILF

To all my hot mama's out there!
Happy MAMAsita day and stay tuned for my Mama's Day Post...

"Single White Female vs. Young Hot Mama's"
SWF vs. MILF (in a sea of hot young mamas i.e sister friends cousins, etc where do i fit in?)...in the interest of staying consistent to bikram yoga and yoga in general...i'm going to tie in prenatal yoga links, post baby yoga, etc.

That's something to keep your palettes' wet for now...i got a good post coming...stay tuned

Leora and Jenny...thank you for setting up an account and "following" my blog...LINK BELOW (signature)

can you guys (if interested...which i know you are!) hahah...can you click "FOLLOW" and become a fan of my blog?
This way Google picks up on it and maybe i have a chance of getting my writing and my crazy thoughts out there!

happy mother's day people
love you guys...

till next time...
KEEP SMILING...xo

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Late for a Very Important Date!!!

"I'm sorry, the class is closed, signing up online only guarantees a spot in class if you show up 10 minutes before hand..." Yoga boy behind the counter was regretful to inform me.
"Seriously???!??" I was so annoyed and immaturely took it out on the innocent girlish looking boy behind the sign-in desk @ Bikram NYC's UWS location.
"Yes, class starts in THREE minutes!! Your spot was given away. I'm really sorry, but if you know you're going to make it, next time just give me a shout & let me know before you get here :-)" Not only was I annoyed I was going to miss this class, I found myself staring at this boy's lanky frame in envy. He sported purple lululemon hot shorts that in a million years wouldn't look as good on me as they did on him!

It wasn't his fault I couldn't find the 3rd floor studio tucked behind the OTB (Off Track Betting) stoor front on 72nd St. between Columbus & Amsterdam. I was literally walking up the stairs of the 72nd & Central Park West B,C subway stop at 6:13pm. I knew I was running late (shocker), and the stress of finding the place & changing & and securing a good spot in class was creeping up on me & making me sweat in all the wrong places (gross). So when I finally made it to Columbus, I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel...ummm? Think again! There must have been three or four Yoga, Fitness, or Spa studios on one block! I was literally walking chin first, head back with my eyes glued to both sides of the street in hope to spot the infamous Bikram NYC logo on a flag or through a window.

"Excuse me?" I approached a local, "do you know where the Bikram yoga studio is on 72nd St?" I scrunched my nose & raised my brow. "Nahh, sorry," JUST the answer I wanted to hear.

"UCHHHH!!!!" My inner voice grunted as I glanced at my black Polar sport swatch that read 6:26pm. I must have walked past the OTB joint three times before I noticed the little logo on one of the side doors "Bikram Yoga NYC 3rd FL"

I ran up the stairs and let myself cool off a bit...SIGH...I've finally made it :-)

"I'm sorry, the class is closed...I'm sorry, the class is closed...I'm sorry, the class is closed," Yoga boy's voice echoed in my head...it wasn't his fault, he was just following protocol.

In the interest of 'keeping it real,' I met up with Jenny, my local UWSer who's always down for a good laugh & a cocktail. So we opted to meet at TenZan (http://www.tenzanrestaurants.com/flash/index.html) for some Sushi on Columbus.

Instead of an intimate date w/Bikram (sweating for 90 minutes, holding 26 poses in 105 degrees and burning [on average] 850 calories/class), I had an intimate date w/Jenny and a wonderful glass of Ménage a Trios Shiraz...

A pound of addemame (spelling?) (spelling?), two sushi rolls, & 2 glasses of wine later (not to mention the 850 calories I WOULD have burned @ Bikram), pretty yoga boy and the fact that I missed a fantastic 90 minutes of bliss were an afterthought.

Thank you Bikram Yoga NYC for being so faire to those who show up early & those who show up late...thank you Jenny for meeting up with me at the last minute...thank you pretty Yoga boy for keeping me inspired to look like you someday...
Since I didn't make it to what I thought was my last class (but really was my 2nd to last class), I made sure to go the following day and make up for the lost time. I have yet to tell you about my Bikram Yoga NYC UES experience...I did meet up with a boy and go out for some raw fish (yet again) post session.
This time I made sure to be on time. No pretty, skinny, yoga loving, beautiful person was going to deny me of the opportunity!

Till next time...

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

I Wanted to Change the World

While making my list of Manhattan yoga studios I have yet to practice in over the next few months, I found Yoga to the People (www.yogatothepeople.com). They live by the following quote taken from their website: “There will be no correct clothes, There will be no proper payment, There will be no right
answers ... No ego no script no pedestals.” The NYTimes just put out a review...Their story? Check'em out: http://www.yogatothepeople.com/pdf/YogasNewWave-NYTimes.pdf.

Tonight's my last night at Bikram Yoga NYC (www.bikramyoganyc.com)since my $23 intro weekly rate expires (AMAZING DEAL BTW) and I would highly recommend checking their website out (especially if you're a virgin to Bikram yoga). Before committing to one studio, I've to get a better taste of what else is out there. Other than the ultra sweaty (& smelly) studios, tiny locker rooms, & excess wet yoga clothes, I must say that after 5 classes, I'm already beginning to feel a little more accepted into NYC's elite LuLu Lemon wearing,tatoo covered, vegan eating, downtown hipster make love not war yoga society!

Now don't get me wrong here...if I'm offending anyone, that's not my goal. My generalization is not the word of GD...it's just the way I see/feel about Yoga & our happy people.

I guess I'll leave you off on this note.

I found the below on www.yogatothepeople.com.

Till next time...keep smiling!




I Wanted To Change The World
By Unknown Monk, 1100 A.D.


When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world.

I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation.

When I found I couldn't change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn't change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.

Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could indeed have changed the world.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Sweat to success

After months of practicing Vinyasa and Power Yoga, I've finally decided to try out Bikram Yoga as a new 'mind over madness' exercises. This yoga consists of 26 poses and is practiced in a studio at 105 degrees Fahrenheit for 90 minutes....I have never seen a sweaty locker room filled with more beautiful bodies in my life! Not @ Equinox, not at NYAC, not @ the Reebok Club, or any other gym for that matter. There must be some sort of secret to this yoga...considering I'm the rookie in the joint, I have a long way to go to stand up to these fabulously looking Bikram Yogis.I'll be visiting the studios in NYC...stay tuned for some hot, sweaty (smelly), intense, Bikram news and reviews! So far I've visited Bikram Union Sq., Bikram Flatiron & Bikram Midtown. There are tons of clubs on our little island and I'm determined to stand up to the beautiful Bikram Yogis (& their barely there Bikram attire)! Tomorrow I'll be testing out the class @ Bikram Yoga UES7PM-8:30PMRegistration required @ www.bikramyoganyc.com <http://www.bikramyoganyc.com/>