New Neighborhood, Old Friend

As Mark mentioned in his previous post, we're in the process of preparing to move. We're both extremely excited - not only because this is one step closer to having Miller join us in England, but also because it means that we'll be steps away from restaurants, pubs, and a park.

In fact, you can see everything that will be at our fingertips on Lark Lane. Perhaps not the least seizure-inducing website, but hey - our neighborhood is cool enough to WARRANT a website. Try that with Cressington.

Over the weekend, we played Guitar Hero until our fingers cramped in a permanent fret-claw (thanks, mom!), and we noticed our stomachs growling. We ventured out in the torrential rain and warmed ourselves in the light of three large high definition televisions airing the Arsenal-Hull City football match in the Parkfield Inn pub. A few pints later, we wandered up and down Lark Lane, looking excitedly in the windows of the many restaurants and bars lining the street.

As Mark mentioned before, Jamaican Me Hungry had a special resonance for us, and we stumbled into the small restaurant a few moments before the chef came in after us, carrying bags of groceries. Selling out of food before 8pm? Sounded like an endorsement to us, so we grabbed a table and Mark went out to buy some beer for dinner.

Let's just say that was the best jerk chicken I've ever had, and I'm planning a few more dinners at this little place.

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I spent much of the week in the south for work, and got back late Wednesday night from a long drive. But we were excited, because Ray was arriving early the next morning.

What ensued was a long comedy of errors, mostly committed by me. I got in the car at 645AM, began the drive toward Manchester, and blew by the exit for the M6. I then got stuck in stop-and-go traffic until I was able to turn around and get on the motorway, which was also stop-and-go. I then raced into the airport, parked the car, and ran into the Terminal. I wandered up and down, peering into the cafes and having Ray paged repeatedly... before realizing that he was not in Terminal 2, but Terminal 1. I ran out, paid for parking, drove completely out of the airport and back in again, parked the car (after several stalls on the steep and narrow ramps), and ran into the Terminal.

I was over 45 minutes late, but Ray gave me a big hug and we were off for home.

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Mark bought tickets for The Streets the moment we arrived in England. If you don't know them, I highly recommend you check them out, because they're a lot of fun. We had a few beers, grabbed some less-than-stellar Indian food, and ventured into the Carling Academy last night. I took some truly sub-par cellphone pictures and video, but will have to upload them later. Suffice it to say, they were awesome live, and we had a ton of fun. Mike Skinner is definitely a goof live, but he got the crowd going and his band was amazing. Here's one of the hits from last night (via YouTube).