Sept. 21, '83: Today I had my callback for "The Real Thing," being directed by Mike Nichols. Well, I really knocked his socks off. He's a nice man with reddish hair, a round face and a bright smile.

After the reading he said, "Are you in any way English?"

Y: "No."

Nichols: "Good God!!!!" and laughter. He was very impressed with my British accent, that's why he said that.

He wanted to know where I had been to school, how old I was and if I'd studied acting. At the end, he laughed and smiled warmly, saying, "Well, I'm pleased!" I was also able to make him laugh during the reading--which is good since it's a comedy. It was an entirely successful event. I done good! It matters less that I get the job of understudy: I was really hoping to show Mr. Nichols that it's not always necessary to jump the gun and cast someone "safe." Of course, I know why he did it. It is rarely that you find someone who's new and unknown, who's a real eye-opener, but it does happen.

Oct. 2: No job. I wonder how long it will be. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be famous. I want it now! I seem to be "wowing" everyone, but no one will give me a job. What's wrong? Am I kidding myself about being famous. No, I think I'm just impatient. I will be famous.

Home in D.C. for the weekend . . . I'm really very glad to see Zapatos, my cat. I miss him so and he misses me too . . .

L. is so romantic. We had a dreamy weekend. He met me at the train and presented me with three red roses. We went to dinner, saw "Casablanca." L. has become very conservative these days. He dresses very conservatively and it becomes him. Of course, he's one of those stinky people who can wear anything and look super but preppiness is particularly becoming on him. I'm tickled by the thought that I'm going out with a conservative college man.

Oct. 7 I had a musical audition today at the Public Theater (plus two other appointments--big day!)--and completely botched it. I had to sing a rock 'n' roll song and it wasn't allowed to be musical comedy. Ugh! Scott Le Feber and I got together and selected an old '60s song called "Stoney End." I had 24 hours to get the song together.

During the audition I forgot the words to the chorus. I just blanked out. The first time I stopped and said, "I'm sorry, I forgot the words." The director and casting director and someone else smiled and said fine. I picked up where I left off. I came to the chorus twice more and each time I drew the same blank. Very bad. I finished the song and they said, "Thank You." I left. Ugh! Yick. Disaster.

Oct. 8 I had a dream last night that Mary and L. and a bunch of others agreed that I ought to die for giving such a preposterous audition at the Public. I agreed with them and they gave me cranberry juice with arsenic in it to drink. I drank it sadly and was supposed to die in thirty seconds or something but was able to wander around feeling exhausted. I really am so embarrassed about that audition.

Oct. 12: Mike Nichols made an offer today for me to be an understudy for "The Real Thing." He wants three months commitment beginning December and running through end of February. Rehearsals start Oct. 24 for the company (not necessarily me). Get paid $610 per week during rehearsals; $735 per week during run; plus $406 when show opens in Boston, before it gets to Broadway. Large sums of money.

Oct. 17: Mom came to New York to help me move out of Gege's and into my new apartment. I'm on the fifth floor of a five-floor walk-up. It's a sublet. Rent is $600 a month. It'll be nice to get out on my own.

Oct. 19 My new apartment has roaches!!! I'm going to be sick. Little baby ones, too. Not good. My middle-class upbringing makes it very hard to coexist with these little vermin.

Oct. 21 I met Woody Allen last night. He's doing a new film and many parts are still uncast. We had about a one-minute interview. He's short, small eyes and has reddish thinning hair. His manner is kind and gentle.

Oct. 23 Loneliness is hard. There isn't anyone in this city I can really confide in. I can't tell anyone that I'm lonely or that it's hard or that I miss Zapatos. Everyone is ready to say, "I told you so" or "Maybe you should go to school." L. is the only one who knows how I feel. I won't even tell my parents. I have to be so tough. Tough! Tough! Tough! And silent! It's hard . . . isolating, in a way. Don't know anyone here my own age, that's kind of dull . . . I often feel unloved . . . poor me . . .

Nov. 10 Today Mike Nichols' personal secretary called me up to say that Mr. Nichols wished to invite me to the private screening of his new film, "Silkwood," starring Meryl Streep and Kurt Russell . . . I'm flattered I was asked, how thoughtful . . .

Nov. 14 I had my first rehearsal today. I went from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. It was to be a run-through--a stop and start run-through. . . . I lost track of what was being said. Mike Nichols is nice, though. He made a point of saying hello to me when I first arrived. He's got a great sense of humor and isn't afraid to smile. I have not met Jeremy Irons and Glenn Close. I get a feeling they have a sense of their status--not that they shouldn't. Cynthia Nixon is very nice and mild. Since we didn't even get close to "our" scene I don't know what she can do. She's about 5'5", blond and thin, wears no makeup. She's 17 years old. I thought she was about 22 or 23.

Nov. 15 There are plastic cups placed strategically around the rehearsal studio, filled with different colored hard candies. When Mike Nichols and Jeremy Irons are not sucking on these, they're smoking or even chewing gum. Amazing. Billions of hard candies.

Nov. 18 Last night I went to see Mark Linn-Baker and Kate Burton in "Doonesbury" . . . we went to a party afterward at Tavern on the Green. We went in a limousine! We couldn't get a cab so Mark flagged down a limo!!! I'd never been in one before. It cost us $25 (not including tip). I wore my new eggplant-colored velvet dress with the lace on the yoke and slip. Everyone admired the dress immensely. It was the christening of the dress.

Nov. 28 I'm here in Boston at the Parker House on Tremont and School streets. I'm in Room 874. It's a lovely hotel. I think one of the most fun things about the hotel is the "room service." I've indulged several times.

L. was here to enjoy it with me until very early this morning when he went back to school. When L. left, I dreaded going back to Room 874. At least the hotel lobby has some hustle and bustle. A dreaded vacancy follows me around. A hotel room is the loneliest place in the whole world--even when you have company. Without company, the room has gray vapor which wears down the senses. It's sort of like a padded cell. Loneliness is the most popular part of my life these days.

Dec. 1 Tonight was first preview. People packed the theater. They laughed and loved it. I watched the second act from the house. It was hard to see Cynthia do it. My anxiety and competition kick up. I wish I were as important. When Cynthia leaves "The Real Thing" she can either go to college in New York or accept a long-standing offer to do a film in Scotland in which she has the lead. She has work lined up for a whole year!!! I wonder if I really will ever be famous and have work lined up for a year? Am I kidding myself? I hate this job. From here on out, I will avoid understudying as often as possible. People at the top don't remember what it was like at the bottom.

I like to watch "The Tonight Show" with Johnny Carson. Every time I watch it, I think about how I'll be on it sometime in the near future. It seems inevitable to me. I wonder why that is. Tears . . . I need you, L.

Dec. 14 I was fascinated to learn that English is not Tom Stoppard's or Mike Nichols' first language. Tom Stoppard spoke Czechoslovakian until he was 10 or something. Then his family moved to England, I think. Mike Nichols came to the U.S.A. when he was eight or so. He had been in either Germany or Poland. After two years in the U.S. he spoke English without a foreign accent. I'd love to get the accurate rundown on his life.

Dec. 28 Christmas was nice. Spent it in D.C. Had to make a secret getaway on Christmas Eve. Nobody saw me sneak out the stage door and that was 95 percent of the treachery. I'd told my fellow understudies and Cynthia I was going to escape and they agreed to cover for me and stay healthy. I returned in time for half hour on Dec. 26th.

Jan. 6, '84 Last night was opening night with a big party at Tavern on the Green. I took Mark Linn-Baker to the party. Mark and I had a great time. I got smashed on screwdrivers. I had six and woke up this morning with a sufficiently deadly hangover. Ugh. It takes 24 hours to recover no matter what you do. Agh! It was a hard day. The reviews that came out today--fifty in all--were all raves. Everyone is ecstatic. I'm glad but don't feel I'm a part of the action at all.

Jan. 10: I watched Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe in "Gentleman Prefer Blondes" on TV tonight. It was great. Was pleased to finally see Monroe do "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend." No wonder it's part of history. I want to be part of history but not like that . . . I'm going to turn off the light and look out the window at the snow while I'm cozy warm in bed. I'm going to dream all my favorites dreams. They keep me alive.

Jan. 19 Cynthia dropped by unexpectedly. I met her on the final flight of stairs where she greeted me with a handful of confetti, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose. I was suspicious. She gave in and told me Mike Nichols had asked her to do his next production in Chicago. She'll be out of town for a month and I get to be on Broadway!!! I was told not to tell anyone, but told L. Have to lay low until the producers actually call to make the deal formally.

Jan. 20 Today Diane at my agency said Howard Fever (casting director for "Catholic Boys") left a message which said they like me so much they want to write in some extra scenes for me!!! Yay!

Jan. 26: Today we had understudy rehearsal. I wasn't very good. The first time we did my scene I was quite bad. I'm thinking too hard about it. The stage manager--Martin--told me to warm it up just a bit next time through. I went to my dressing room and practiced warming it up a bit. I got to a place where I was very pleased with it, then when it came time to actually do it my instincts betrayed me and I found I was trying too hard again. I wish I weren't really going on. I'm scared. I don't want to be bad because there simply isn't time and place to make ghastly mistakes. Damn Cynthia for going to Chicago for a month. Damn her. I'm scared now. What will everybody think? I am so scared of being bad. I don't want to be hated. I want to come home to D.C. where everything is quiet and safe and inexpensive and home-cooked well.

Feb. 11 I got the part of Cathleen in "Catholic Boys." Cath is the nerd. It's a cameo role. I get enormous amounts of money. We asked for more, but got turned down because the other girl whose best friend I play is only getting the same and our parts are basically the same size. She plays the sexy bombshell. In the script she's described as "sultry and beautiful." In the script I'm described as having "frizzy hair, glasses and braces." Someday I want to play a very romantic role. I want to play a part like "Camille"; someone who breaks your heart.

Feb. 13 I suppose I should talk about the big dress rehearsal we--the understudies--had. The first time through, Martin stopped me in the middle to say he couldn't hear me: "You've got to fill the house, honey." I was devastated. I thought, "Terrific. My career is over. A fun career, but short." We picked up where we left off and finished the scene and went out into the house, throwing my legs over the seat in front of me so that no one could see the top of my head. I prayed for immediate liquidation. I felt a hand on my head. It was Jeremy. Oh, ugh! He wants to break the news of my inevitable early retirement gently, I thought to myself. "You really were wonderful, Yeardley," he said. "We're going to have such fun. I look forward to it."

Feb. 15 I've decided not to tell anyone when my birthday is this year. I'm going to be 19 for another year, if I can get away with it. Twenty (on up) is such an ambiguous age. Everyone is 20 and if I am too then I'll never get another job in my life. I'll turn 20 when I'm established.

March 12 Tonight is my Broadway debut. I have felt sick to my stomach with nerves for the last three days. L. left this morning to go back to school. The apartment is empty again. I am on my own from here. Scary. I had a rehearsal with Jeremy and Christine on Friday. It was scheduled for 7 to 7:30. We ran through the scene once and that was all there was time for. Needless to say, I was very perturbed. However, by the end of the night a rehearsal had been rescheduled. Tonight's was very playful and useful in relieving some of my deep down terror.

(Later that evening)

Tonight's performance was a huge success!!!! I got exit applause and everything. We got laughs that had never been there before. It was a new scene altogether. I brought tears to peoples' eyes at the end. Everyone in the cast and backstage was truly impressed with the scene. They were all very proud. Yay!!! My legs shook so hard I had to wrap it around the chair leg. Then I calmed down and began to have fun. I knew at the end that I was breaking hearts when I said goodbye to Jeremy. The applause was long and heavy on my exit. It was a splendid debut.

Mary and Diana from the office came to the show. Mary came backstage to see me and gave me a hug and shed several tears. We went to the Cafe Central on Columbus Avenue whre a party in Mary's honor--today is her birthday--was being held. It wasn't much fun. I was tired from all my anxiety of my debut. My fingers have been freezing cold for a day and a half; that's what happens when I get nervous before going on. I got several very lavish bouquets of flowers tonight; Glenn Close gave me a dozen pink sweatheart roses in a vase with a pink ribbon. Jeremy produced a print or etching of two beguiling parakeets with a lovely note. Cynthia sent a dozen gorgeous long-stemmed roses . . . there's virtually no more room in my dressing room.

Sometimes I don't want to be a success anymore and wish that I could go home. Then I come to my senses and remember my dreams and my ambitions and realize that if I don't follow my dreams I die. If I don't do what I'm doing there's no point to my life.

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Aaron, Mr. Plow, Miami, Floreda; YSFC #6