On my second-to-last night of freedom the three of us (myself, Nellie and Nellie’s mom) met CBGB at The Spotted Dick, a pub ’round the corner from us. We’ve been to the Dick several times, but they’ve recently finished some repairs and refurbishment, and find themselves under new ownership. They’ve replaced the furniture, given the place a good scrub and upgraded the menu (there’s standard congealed pub crap, but there’s also the sizzling jambalaya-like dish I had last night, the chicken tikka masala appetizer CB had, etc.). It still feels pubby, but doesn’t have the old dinginess anymore, and the servers are definitely a step up from what I remember.

And, for the first time since the great chicken-wing-vomit incident of ’98, I had a few pints of Smithwick’s.

Today is for running errands, doing laundry, and generally just getting ready for the upcoming six-day cram session.