one smily me
I was very happy on my birthday.
It started on a sweaty beginning in a Bikram studio on the 23rd Street. Yoga cleaned my system with pure joy and left me a glowing smile on my skin. Unbelievable for my old self, after one and half year of practicing, now I really can bend myself in half. In good times, my chest really can touch my thighs. If my PE teachers in high school or university saw me now, they would not have given me that low grades.
Somehow I was hungry for soup. I did a quick search via google and found several soup places near 23rd St and 2nd Av, where Jeff and Venessa’s apartment locates and where we were staying again. On a blog or some user-generated forum, a person highly strongly beggingly recommended Lamarca on 22nd St and 3rd Av. Perfect! So we went there and were seated and waiting for the waiter while reading the menu. They did not have soups. Very buzzard. Oh, the waiter said we should go to the next door. Now it was right. Lamarca on the 22nd St but not at the intersection of 22nd and 3rd. Got it.
It was a cute, nice, friendly, and sunlight-filled place. The soup really was great. Cheese, bread, and espresso were also great.
Then we kept walking on 23rd St to look for a dancing shoe store that everybody (i.e., Bryan and Nat) had recommended. Actually it was Marc who wanted to get something specific for his dancing shoes. I was the one who was being a company for this trip but spent much more money than he did in the store. Come on, it was a dancing shoe store with gorgeous shoes on sale. And it was my B-day. I definitely had all reasons to give myself a nice treat. That pair of shoes then proved very sexy and went very well with my birthday milonga outfit.
In the afternoon, I was very productive in my work.
I did not forget my duty as being a soon-PhD student who was desperately looking for a post-doc research position.
I dressed up for my birthday dinner. Marc and Jeff escorted me in a cab and then on a walk for 6 blocks. Well, some manholes exploded before we grabbed the cab. The driver informed us the traffic had been going nuts after the accident. So we had to give up the ride before entering the village. My legs were complaining because Marc had talked me into wearing my tango outfit for dinner. My legs were naked and the wind was not polite. Unexpectedly, however, the walk was pleasant. Addition to the fact that Marc and Jeff were good company, it was very nice to hear different languages in the village, around the Prada store and other cozy bookstores. Street lights and people’s laughter and old-age bricks on the sideway made my soul soaring.
Nat came to meet us. In the legendary Blue Ribbon Sushi 青浩（米字旁）壽司, I met the most good-looking Japanese guy ever. He was our waiter! I could not keep my eyes off him.
But that was not the best part of my dinner. The best part was what Marc ordered for me. Omakase. It meant the chef’s special. So special that no one would know what would be on the plate before the dish was presented. It was delicious. Every bite and every swallow. The temperature of the fish was perfect. The freshness of the fish was undoubted. The delicacy of the slices of fish was five-starred. In particular, I was heartily appropriated what the chef did for one additional thing. See the fish bone rounded in the picture? The waiter (yes, the super hot waiter) came to get that fish bone when I’d half-way done my meal and took it for being deep-fried. If the skeleton had been fried at the beginning, it would have absorbed the moisture in the air, and would have not been as crispy and tasty! It was brilliant!
This definitely was the best sushi and sashimi ever in my Japanese dining experience.
Once the waiter cleaned up our table, I asked for a dessert menu.
He came back with a green-tea crème brulee, which plate had a single slim blue candle, and another plate of Japanese-style fruit ice cream. I was soooo touched. Marc WAS romantic tonight. How rare and precious. I could not help but smile and smile and smile and smile…
The milonga was in La Nacional, on the 14th St between 7th & 8th Aves. It was a very traditional Latino or Argentino restaurant/bar. It was a very high-level crowd of dancers. Just by watching them, I knew two years of dancing only qualified me as a advanced beginner. There was a tradition in milonga that birthday people got the whole floor for one song. The host announced that tonight was a birthday for two dancers. I knew he did not count me because I was a nobody or because I did not let anyone in the milonga know it.
The first birthday person was a regular dancer. I would say he was not as good as Bryan but still managed to lead a good dance. The second person was a star in the world of tango. Michael Nadtochi. I met him several times in different tango festivals. He always sported his hair greasily from front to back, like an old gentleman. He had a very charming looking and fabulous vibe as a tango leader. He also had one of the most fabulous and sexy partner in the tango world. Her name is Angeles Chanaha. During his birthday solo, only super advanced followers dared to come on the floor to dance with him. It was the best show that night. It was to celebrate his birthday and also in a different way celebrating mine.
I have a post card with Michael and Angeles on it. I totally did not have any strength to tell the host it was my birthday too. No one wanted to dance solo after Michael’s solo.
I was already happy that he and I have the same birthday.
I was already happy to see his performance (and Angeles’s) for this beautiful coincidence.
I was already happy that Bryan showed up tonight (Sophie had to be with the baby).
I was already happy that I could spend the night tangoing with my partner, who was also fabulous in many ways.
While we were leaving around 1am, the other birthday guy stood by the boor (because he partially took charge of tonight’s milonga) and gave me a rose. I said “Happy Birthday! It was mine too.” He smiled back and I felt his happiness and mine.
I had a happy birthday.
It started on a sweaty beginning in a Bikram studio on the 23rd Street. Yoga cleaned my system with pure joy and left me a glowing smile on my skin. Unbelievable for my old self, after one and half year of practicing, now I really can bend myself in half. In good times, my chest really can touch my thighs. If my PE teachers in high school or university saw me now, they would not have given me that low grades.
Somehow I was hungry for soup. I did a quick search via google and found several soup places near 23rd St and 2nd Av, where Jeff and Venessa’s apartment locates and where we were staying again. On a blog or some user-generated forum, a person highly strongly beggingly recommended Lamarca on 22nd St and 3rd Av. Perfect! So we went there and were seated and waiting for the waiter while reading the menu. They did not have soups. Very buzzard. Oh, the waiter said we should go to the next door. Now it was right. Lamarca on the 22nd St but not at the intersection of 22nd and 3rd. Got it.
It was a cute, nice, friendly, and sunlight-filled place. The soup really was great. Cheese, bread, and espresso were also great.
Then we kept walking on 23rd St to look for a dancing shoe store that everybody (i.e., Bryan and Nat) had recommended. Actually it was Marc who wanted to get something specific for his dancing shoes. I was the one who was being a company for this trip but spent much more money than he did in the store. Come on, it was a dancing shoe store with gorgeous shoes on sale. And it was my B-day. I definitely had all reasons to give myself a nice treat. That pair of shoes then proved very sexy and went very well with my birthday milonga outfit.
In the afternoon, I was very productive in my work.
I did not forget my duty as being a soon-PhD student who was desperately looking for a post-doc research position.
I dressed up for my birthday dinner. Marc and Jeff escorted me in a cab and then on a walk for 6 blocks. Well, some manholes exploded before we grabbed the cab. The driver informed us the traffic had been going nuts after the accident. So we had to give up the ride before entering the village. My legs were complaining because Marc had talked me into wearing my tango outfit for dinner. My legs were naked and the wind was not polite. Unexpectedly, however, the walk was pleasant. Addition to the fact that Marc and Jeff were good company, it was very nice to hear different languages in the village, around the Prada store and other cozy bookstores. Street lights and people’s laughter and old-age bricks on the sideway made my soul soaring.
Nat came to meet us. In the legendary Blue Ribbon Sushi 青浩（米字旁）壽司, I met the most good-looking Japanese guy ever. He was our waiter! I could not keep my eyes off him.
But that was not the best part of my dinner. The best part was what Marc ordered for me. Omakase. It meant the chef’s special. So special that no one would know what would be on the plate before the dish was presented. It was delicious. Every bite and every swallow. The temperature of the fish was perfect. The freshness of the fish was undoubted. The delicacy of the slices of fish was five-starred. In particular, I was heartily appropriated what the chef did for one additional thing. See the fish bone rounded in the picture? The waiter (yes, the super hot waiter) came to get that fish bone when I’d half-way done my meal and took it for being deep-fried. If the skeleton had been fried at the beginning, it would have absorbed the moisture in the air, and would have not been as crispy and tasty! It was brilliant!
This definitely was the best sushi and sashimi ever in my Japanese dining experience.
Once the waiter cleaned up our table, I asked for a dessert menu.
He came back with a green-tea crème brulee, which plate had a single slim blue candle, and another plate of Japanese-style fruit ice cream. I was soooo touched. Marc WAS romantic tonight. How rare and precious. I could not help but smile and smile and smile and smile…
The milonga was in La Nacional, on the 14th St between 7th & 8th Aves. It was a very traditional Latino or Argentino restaurant/bar. It was a very high-level crowd of dancers. Just by watching them, I knew two years of dancing only qualified me as a advanced beginner. There was a tradition in milonga that birthday people got the whole floor for one song. The host announced that tonight was a birthday for two dancers. I knew he did not count me because I was a nobody or because I did not let anyone in the milonga know it.
The first birthday person was a regular dancer. I would say he was not as good as Bryan but still managed to lead a good dance. The second person was a star in the world of tango. Michael Nadtochi. I met him several times in different tango festivals. He always sported his hair greasily from front to back, like an old gentleman. He had a very charming looking and fabulous vibe as a tango leader. He also had one of the most fabulous and sexy partner in the tango world. Her name is Angeles Chanaha. During his birthday solo, only super advanced followers dared to come on the floor to dance with him. It was the best show that night. It was to celebrate his birthday and also in a different way celebrating mine.
I have a post card with Michael and Angeles on it. I totally did not have any strength to tell the host it was my birthday too. No one wanted to dance solo after Michael’s solo.
I was already happy that he and I have the same birthday.
I was already happy to see his performance (and Angeles’s) for this beautiful coincidence.
I was already happy that Bryan showed up tonight (Sophie had to be with the baby).
I was already happy that I could spend the night tangoing with my partner, who was also fabulous in many ways.
While we were leaving around 1am, the other birthday guy stood by the boor (because he partially took charge of tonight’s milonga) and gave me a rose. I said “Happy Birthday! It was mine too.” He smiled back and I felt his happiness and mine.
I had a happy birthday.
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