d i n a n e . n e t 

The streets go one way, and that one way may change, and it may not be the one way you want to go. The intersections have five streets converging, and no one street continues in a straight line. Highway exits have unmarked turns. Roads have multiple names. Highway entrances are in the middle of the road.

Why the hell would anyone drive in Boston?

Well, in our case, it was because church ran long. The student minister gave the sermon this week, and she’s kind of long winded. Okay, extremely long winded. Add to that all three choirs (children, youth, and adult) singing a song this week, where normally there’s one. Then, for the cherry on top, it was the day we were calling, accepting, or some other verb-ing the new lay ministers. Next thing you know, it’s 12:10 and we’re just getting home.

So, I grab the tickets, and we’re out the door. Mike asks me where the theatre is. I go back inside, and open up Silkierscarf, my laptop. A little google-mapping, and I’m confident. More or less.

I’m pretty sure I can get to the parking lot under the Commons. Since that’s our first goal, it’ll have to do. Just because I’ve never once managed to leave that lot without getting severely lost and ending up in some town I didn’t even know existed…

So, off we go. Of course, we were pretty hungry, so we stopped at the first rest area on the Pike to grab quick lunch. I was hoping there’d be a Fresh City, like there is at the first stop west of our house, but alas there would be no simple burrito for me. The Fresh City burritos have a magical quality where you can eat them with one hand and they don’t fall apart. This was not the case of my selected lunch - a quesadilla from Sandella’s. It sounded like a good idea at the time. Turns out… no.

After my first spill, Mike hooked me up with a napkin in my lap. It caught several more spills as I attempted to eat and drive. Don’t try this at home, kids! I totally should have just gave up and got chicken nuggets. Those are totally car food. Oh well, lesson learned.

We got to the exit soon after I had finished the third quarter of my lunch. The fourth quarter was never to be reached, and I threw the box in the back seat for the remainder of the journey. See, the next leg was to be on Storrow Drive, and that road scares me.

Did you know that Storrow Drive is also Soldier’s Field Road? Yeah. See, this is something Google should tell you. Anyway, here I was on a road that was obviously Storrow Drive, hoping that it was also Soldier’s Field Road. We passed by BU, then more BU, and also the river. We took the appropriate exit to bounce over to Boylston Street, and I was back in familiar territory.

People are crazy. They just walk across the street, mid block, without a crosswalk, while I’m just, you know, driving! I was nervous, but we survived.

Finally, we could see the Public Gardens. Well, see, this is where Boylston Street decides to divide. Why? I don’t know. I guessed that I wanted to be on the left of the divider in order to get to the Commons. I was totally right, thank goodness, for at the next light there was that telltale blue background sporting a bright white P.

We went all the way down to the lower level of the garage, walked up the four flights of stairs to get back to ground level, walked out the door, noted that it said “Tremont Street,” and immediately started shivering. I was glad that I chose to wear my snow jacket (at least it’s getting some use…). We were heading for Washington Street, which is behind Tremont, so we headed towards the nearest road, figuring the Tremont Street Pavilion would be near Tremont Street.

Signs lie.

We found all kinds of interesting streets that weren’t Tremont Street before discovering we were at the exact opposite corner of the Commons than we actually wanted to be. So we walked. And shivered. And walked on slushy snow. And shivered.

We found Tremont Street, continued along Boylston up to Washington Street, and everything was going great. Until Mike twisted his ankle. He grimaced and refused when I offered to get him some Advil at the CVS we happened to be standing outside of.

So onward to the theatre!

Mike had never seen Les Miserables before. I could neither believe nor understand, so I made a mental note to get tickets for us months ago. Right, so months passed, and it was suddenly the day before Valentine’s Day… oops. I did get tickets, but the lady on the phone said they might be limited visibility.

When we got to the theatre, we were ushered along the audience’s right side wall, around to the front. The lady on the phone was full of crap. The seats were awesome and awesomer when you realize they were cheap due to their possibility of being limited in viewing. We settled in for an great show. If you missed it, too bad, because it’s already done being in Boston.

I love Les Miserables. I love the story, the characters, the spectacle, the songs… everything. I’d give my left leg to play Mme. Thenardier (though they would probably have difficulty casting me if I had only that one leg…). I’d cut off all of my hair to play Fantine (conveniently necessary!). But I don’t have to be in the show to enjoy it. It was a lot of fun.

I cried.

On our way back, we followed the piles of people over to the park. This time, we would not get lost. We walked straight for the Tremont Street Pavilion (which I reassured myself actually said “Tremont Street” not just “Tremont” - signs lie!), shivering all the way. Did I mention it was cold? I think I may have lost feeling in my cheeks. And my fingers weren’t thrilled either. I need new gloves.

We managed to get back to the car, finding it with no difficulty. We followed the signs up to the exit (and those signs didn’t lie), paid our $10 weekend fee, and went up the exit ramp to the street.

I had decided in advance that I would just take that first left and hope that the street would go far enough back to get me back to someplace familiar. Luckily, that random street just so happened to be Beacon Street. It took me to Exeter, the only street from which I have ever successfully found the Mass Pike.

I made my bizarre assortment of left turns to get to the Pru-tunnel, and we were on our way! I totally drove in and out of Boston, and never once got lost! Okay, so we got lost a little bit at the Commons, but it wasn’t that lost, we were still at the Commons… So, I totally drove in and out of Boston and barely got lost!

Yay me!

Maybe now I can call myself a Massachusetts local.

Probably not.