Moving Day
It took Doug and I a whole two trips on the crosstown bus to move all my stuff. (I left the coffee table for the next renters...)
And there we were, with all my earthy belongings, sitting outside the door of my new apartment on York Ave and 72nd Street waiting (a long time) for my new roommates to arrive and let me in, leaving only long enough to go grab McDonalds and bring it back. It was a doorman guarded apartment, so the risk was only minimal. Plus, I'm pretty sure no-one living in that building would have had much interest in any of my belongings.
That was our apartment right up there in front with the curtains opened. (The one without the balcony)
(I'll never forget over the next few months, during his many absences, stepping in or out of my apartment door and pining about that afternoon, when we'd dined on that hallway floor.)
At any rate, Patty finally came home and I was finally able to settle in, which took me about 15 minutes max...
The apartment consisted of a living room/dining area, a kitchen, one bedroom and bathroom plus a small alcove off the kitchen area (with sliding accordion doors) probably meant to be an office but which I would find served Patty quite well for occassional afternoon trysts. So we all shared one bedroom, with three beds (except that mine was still a foam mattress on the floor). I think Patty used the coat closet off the entry way for her clothes, but Julie and I shared the other small one in the bedroom. Speaking of Julie... I don't even really remember seeing her very often. She mostly lived with her boyfriend somewhere in town and would come home only occassionally to exchange her clothes with other ones which were hanging in the closet she shared with me. Come to think of it, I don't really remember seeing Patty all that much either, though I saw her a lot more than I saw Julie.
Anyway, I remember the first morning waking up in that apartment and feeling SO disoriented and worried about being late for work, since I didn't really have an exact public transportation routine firmly worked out in my head yet. But I got up and started my morning with my usual bowl of Raisin Bran, when Patty came in and asked me what I was doing and I told her I was getting ready for work. She said "But it's only two o'clock in the morning!" I think she was just getting in...
Needless to say, I spent ALOT of alone time in that apartment. Which I suppose wasn't entirely a BAD thing, considering I was only paying $150 a month!
Spring
I can honestly say that I'd never experienced many higher highs than that of riding the bus across town to work on those beautiful spring mornings and saying to myself "This is mine! I live here! This is home!" One day in particular that I remember was a day in April, shortly before my mom's birthday because I was out buying a birthday present for her, and the day was so brilliantly gorgeous that I ended up walking all the way home, shopping bag in hand.
But it rained a lot too or was very overcast and depressing, especially on weekends it seemed, so there wasn't always that much to do. If there's only been internet back then! So sometimes I'd borrow Julie's bike and ride a block over to the east river to write in my journal.
Doesn't it look exactly like a scene from "The Godfather?"
And occassionally Doug would be in town and we'd catch lunch at some sidewalk cafe or stroll around the city, but more often than not he'd have other visitors in town as well.
Doug and Linda in Central Park :(
And Me...
Even though I do remember that being a lovely weekend. We all (including his roomate Timothy) watched the Oscars together on Sunday (the year Tatum O'Neal won best actress and Doug was livid!) But we also had some of the sweetest moments that day which will stick in my mind forever. Linda had sort of insisted on coming to visit and he just hadn't known how to turn her down. But it was me he really loved. You betcha.
I don't mean to make it sound as if I had absolutely no other social life at all, because as summer drew near I did have quite the routine of meeting up with Patty and her friends on Friday nights at one of the many available options of singles bars on the upper east side... and it was a lot of fun too! Even though more than once was I almost persuaded to do something crazy, I never gave in. But it was definitely an eye-opening awakening to the New York singles lifestyle.
Probably one of the most enjoyable weekends I had was traveling out to Long Island with Patty to visit her family. It was wonderful being in a real, live home again and her parents were incredibly hospitable. And we had a great time with some of her old friends too.
At a fun Italian restaurant. That's Patty on the right.
A chilly day at the beach! I think that must have been my only shirt!
But then as Memorial Day came and went I found myself even more alone in that apartment than usual, since my roommates had both gone in on a rental share on a house in the Hamptons.
Summer
We had a beautiful health club facility and swimming pool on the 40th floor, but of course in order to use it you had to be a member, which would have been like another $50 a month...
Here's a funny memory that I have of spending the day with this really nice (but sort of strange guy) who lived on one of the upper floors of my apartment building. A blind date of sorts. I don't remember much more about this day except for having to repeat over and over to him that I wasn't really that interested in having a sleepover.
And who EVEN wears a white leisure suit for an afternoon date anyway?
One of my more interesting stories was the time I came home from work on a Friday evening and proceeded to accidentally break my key in half in the lock to my apartment. So I waited and waited for one of my roommates to get home, but they never showed. Doug was out of town (of course) so I wasn't really sure what to do. I ended up wandering the streets of the upper east side, checking out all of the bars that I thought they might have stopped into but couldn't find them anywhere. It was probably at this point when I realized it was Friday night and they were out in the Hampton's for the entire weekend...
Here's a picture of me perched on the leather ottoman inside the lobby of my apartment building just past midnight.
Don't let the "half-smile" fool you.
But eventually a good samaritan came along and told me to come on upstairs to his apartment, where he'd try to help me figure something out.
Well, of course...
Many hours later, after fighting off a myriad of negotiations, advancements, and several mofioso late night visitors, he finally relented and called a locksmith aquaintance who was able to get me into my apartment. I suppose I should have been grateful that I hadn't been gang raped, or worse, but luckily all I did was sleep for the rest of the weekend.
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Mindy was my very best friend at work. Very different from any other friends I'd had in the past but somehow we'd hit it off from the very beginning. Born and bred in Queens, she was the first true-blue New Yoah-kah I'd ever met. We had the best time at work together and her being there made the whole thing bearable. When something was funny she'd always say "What a pisser!" Except she'd pronounced it "Pissah!" I loved her! She had a husband named Vinny. Yes, Vinny. And they'd always talk baby talk to each other, it was hilarious. I spent a lot of time with them out at their apartment in Queens, going to the Belmont Racetrack (she was a huge jockey fan!) or just hanging out with her family and friends, or going to the beach.
Except that now that I look at this pic a little closer, I think this was taken at Huntington Beach when she came out to visit me in LA later that summer.
Anyway, she was a real little Jewish sweetheart... and one of a kind! I wonder whatever happened to her.
Trying My Hand at Theatre
So for the whole half year I'd been in New York I had done absolutely nothing in regards to what should have been my main purpose for being there. I did take a couple of dance classes at the YWCA, including a belly dancing class, but found them for the most part uninspiring.
And then I saw an ad in the paper that "The New York Academy of Theatrical Arts" run by Phillip Nolan was accepting new students, so I filled out an application and wrote a check for my first month (which was really all it took to be IN.) I went to class two nights a week after work, and in all fairness had a pretty good experience getting the feel of what it was like taking acting classes in New York. I did a ton of scenes with fellow students, spent evenings improvising and learning "The Method" and all in all I think our teachers were pretty good. But then one night the Academy director, Phillip Nolan, called me into his office and told me that he thought I had exactly what it took to become a model, but first he wanted to chat... take my measurements, etc. I guess I figured it was all legit, even though it felt really odd and sort of uncomfortable. I never did get that modeling contract. Perhaps maybe because I ran out of his office too abruptly? Who knows?
In the meantime, a student director was casting for a showcase "And Miss Reardon Drinks A Little" and he cast me as Ceil. We rehearsed for weeks on that play and the cast would often end up going out after rehearsals to a restaurant or pub in the Village, or just hanging out in Washington Square. And I just loved those people! We had so much fun together! And again it just felt so cool to feel like a native, to feel like I belonged, living in New York and attempting to do the one thing I wanted to be doing.
But as it turned out, "The New York Academy of Theatrical Arts" was not quite as legitimate (or maybe just not as profitable) as it sounds like it should have been, and within a couple of weeks a closing notice due to back taxes was posted on the front door. But we still kept rehearsing out on the sidewalk, somehow thinking it all must be some sort of bogus mistake, but it wasn't. We never did end up doing the play.
Posing in a doorway outside of the NYAOTA...
I also spent a whole lot of on and off time with Doug that summer, though I was never quite sure which of those times were actually on or which were off. In reading my journal though, I do know that we spent a ton of time together and went to lots and lots of movies! Doug was a real movie goer...
I remember one Saturday packing an amazing picnic basket lunch for us filled with bread, fruit, wine and cheese for an afternoon at Coney Island.
Doug and David, after lunch...
And Me...
I'm not sure if this picture was taken on that very same day or not. All I know is that it was taken at some time during that summer, at Coney Island, and that he took it...
Going Home With My Tail Between My Legs... but not exactly.
From my journal: Last night I decided to go home. I don't know what kind of decision this is. Wrong? Right? All I know is that I want to be able to put my arms around someone and cry. Maybe I'm not as strong as I thought I was. I'm just not ready for this kind of life. I love New York and I know it will always be here, but I'm just not ready yet to forget everything I left behind. I miss my friends! I've done something that I never dreamed was possible for me and I am positive that I will come back to it. But I just want to go home and figure out if this is what I really want. Do you know what I mean?
And I guess someone would have to read my entire journal from that time to completely understand just how much it had all meant to me and how much it had all changed me... (or as to why I still seemed to be acting so crazy and naive about the whole Doug thing...)
But given that, I still sincerely hope that no one will ever try to track down and read the thing... because that would just be really embarassing and humiliating. Even if I was dead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
But anyway, knowing that I only had a few weeks left, I was able to then just enjoy the crap out of New York! I moved from York Avenue back to Doug's apartment and in with Timothy (Doug was living out in LA for the rest of the summer...) and it was absolutely hotter than Haites in that 4th floor walk up!
Mom came through town on her Church History tour so we were able to spend a few days together. (This was tour when mom met David, though they didn't really know each other very well yet... and I still believe that one of the most vivid memories he had of me was how very fast and purposely I walked while leading them all from their hotel to see the Empire State Building. He even brought up that memory 37 years later during the very last conversation I'd ever have with him, just before he passed.)
Me meeting mom at her hotel
On the Circle Line
I was also able to travel to upstate NY on the bus with her group to the Hill Cumorah Pageant, all the while witnessing David's increasing infactuation with my mother...
I returned to New York with just about enough time to catch one more evening out on the town with friends.
The afternoon before the evening I flew out I took the train out to the beach first, because of course I had to be tan for the entourage of friends who were planning to pick me up at the airport in LA.
I wish I still had that much energy!
Anyway, at around 5:00 pm I hauled all my stuff down those 4 flights of stairs for the last time and hailed a cab to the airport.
I'd survived New York City for 194 days...