Where no one knows my name

In May, I wrote that once I finished my master's degree, I would celebrate by eating at my favorite restaurant in the North End. And yesterday, I did! I also went to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston Common (where I saw two movies), Newbury Street and Mike's Pastry. Ah, memories...like the corners of my mind...

Fortuitously, I still had my Brandeis staff ID buried in my wallet (I have no idea what happened to my student one), so the MFA was free. I have decided that Monet and Arthur Dove are my favorite artists, and I wonder if there is some kind of psychological quiz online that would explain what that says about me. (Like how Carrie and I once imagined that in the European composer version of The Apprentice, Donald Trump would be disgusted with contestants who preferred Haydn to Beethoven.)

The movies: Charlotte's Web was a disappointment. I know this because it should have made me cry like a little girl, but it did not. Its most basic problem was that Julia Roberts was the voice of Charlotte, which...no. Just no. Her voice is too recognizable and she's not a particularly talented voice actress, so it was totally like: "That's Julia Roberts talking. That's Julia Roberts talking." Plus, I think the genius of E.B. White's book (which the New York Times called one of the most beloved classics of all time) is probably in its description, and the movie fell short in translating that to the screen. I thought The Chronicles of Narnia last year did a fantastic job in bringing the book to life, whereas Charlotte's Web just sort of faithfully plodded through the plot because it had to. I think it assumed that its viewers were already in love with all the characters, which is true, but looking back on it I didn't really get to know any of them. Fern was one of the earliest great girl heroes in my life, but from the movie alone I wouldn't have guessed why.

Then I saw The Pursuit of Happyness, because it was too cold to walk around Newbury Street for three hours. At one point I thought, "Damn, Will Smith, who knew you had it in you?" but then I remembered that episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air where Will is shot in a hold-up and Carlton goes out and buys a gun, and Will convinces Carlton to give it up and the episode closes on Will in his hospital bed unloading the bullets from the gun and crying, and I realized that The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air foreshadows Will Smith's future as a great actor! It was a good movie. Will Smith's son is freaking cute. Really cute. I thought it was extremely interesting that the written epilogue that flashes up on the screen after the movie is over is all about how the real-life Chris Gardner is now filthy rich. That's the success story: wealth. As my mom would say, money may not buy happiness (or happyness, as the case may be), but it helps.

The lasagna at Piccola Venezia is still the best lasagna I've ever had. The counter ladies at Mike's Pastry are still rude and impatient. (Sidebar to S2P: Remember Carrie's angry neighbors from freshman year? "And the laughing!" One of them was in Mike's Pastry.) The conductors on the T still make inexplicable choices about their routes that force me to get off the train before my stop.

And Boston? Is a city I'm going to miss.