I'd never found my place at Vassar, although there were places to be found there. (I do remember that I was trying to master a "reverse roll" that year-a hairstyling technique that, while infinitely important to me and also quite challenging, was not very Vassar.)
Looking back on it now, I cannot fully recall what I'd been doing with my time during those many hours that I ought to have spent in class, but-knowing me-I suppose I was terribly preoccupied with my appearance. I was not quite as dumb as my grades made me look, but apparently it really doesn't help if you don't study. I had recently been excused from Vassar College, on account of never having attended classes and thereby failing every single one of my freshman exams. In the summer of 1940, when I was nineteen years old and an idiot, my parents sent me to live with my Aunt Peg, who owned a theater company in New York City.
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