My cell phone often gets lost in the sea of stuff that’s in my purse. Or sometimes I’ll leave it in a random spot in the apartment – like next to the cereal, or in my sock drawer. So the other night, when I thought I had once again misplaced my phone, I made Oliver play one of his favorite games, “Call Maya’s Phone So She Can Track Down its Whereabouts.”

Oliver dialed. And the call rang and rang but neither of us could hear my phone ringing. Finally a strange man answered it. His name, it turns out, was Harry.

Harry was the passenger who got into a cab on the Upper West Side earlier that night, right after I got out. Apparently I got out of the cab without my phone. I don’t know if he sat on my phone, or he just saw it there on the seat, all sad and lonely. But he took it home.

I’ve lost a phone once before. And I did not get it back. I don’t have facts, but my gut tells me 99.999% of the time when someone loses their phone, it is never returned.

So I was amazed that Harry answered. And not only did he answer, he was proposing ways for me to meet up with him so I could get my phone back: If I could come to his place of business the next morning, he could leave it with the receptionist.

I was even more amazed that that he actually tried to reach me well before I realized my phone was missing! He looked through my contacts and saw the one called “Mama and Papa.” He called them. Explained he found my phone, and would I mind calling my phone or his (he gave my mom his number) so that he and I could arrange a pickup.

Wow. Stuff like that doesn’t happen.

The next morning I went to his place of business, met Harry and was handed my phone, in a sealed envelope. He was a very nice guy and blushed a little when I handed him a thank you card (with a $20 gift certificate to Starbucks inside. Oh yeah. I’m classy.)

My favorite part of this story is that he handed me my phone in a sealed envelope. Inside it was my phone, plus a bunch of his business cards. Turns out he is a VP at one of the largest real estate firms in NY. (So I would venture to guess that his phone is nicer than my phone, hence one reason why he wouldn't want to keep it). But it’s the business cards that make me laugh. How random. But I guess anyone can become a potential client when you sell real estate. Thanks, Harry!

Oliver and I moved to Brooklyn this weekend! I'm very, very, very excited to be here. It's the top floor of a brownstone that's in really great condition. Compared to our Seattle place the apartment is quite small, but compared to NYC apartments, it's...almost medium.

Below are pics of the living room/dining room (though I only got the living room part) and the kitchen, which is cute and quaint.

One of the best parts of moving was being reunited with our things. We sold all of our furniture and put everything else in storage when we left Seattle, and our stuff sat in a container in some warehouse in Renton, WA for over a year. It's amazing what you forget you own in a year. It was like xmas every time we opened a box of things - there were boxes of books I forgot I owned, shoes I forgot I owned (I had no idea I owned so many shoes!), kitchen things I forgot I owned.

But probably the item I'm most excited to be reunited with is the last picture below - it's a bed cover that my parents got in 1977, in Rome, when were immigrating to the United States (moving from the Soviet Union, not Italy). I took it from them when I graduated from college and it's been with me ever since. It's golden and furry, and looks like wheat blowing in the wind during a summer sunset. Or, maybe it looks like what a really greasy single guy on the prowl for ladies would cover his black leather bed with. Or maybe it looks like Chewbacca exploded all over the bed.

It's so friggin kitschy, I can't get over it. My golden Roman bed covering.

I can't wait until we have a bed that I can cover with it!

Apparently, the hairdo rage at NY Fashion Week is the side ponytail.

‘Yours Truly,’ the E-Variations