Greetings From The Ridge, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

             
                                     Just as residents of Park Slope call their nabe The Slope, so residents of Bay Ridge call it The Ridge.  And that just happens to be the name of the building Monsieur and I have moved into, pictured above, in the heart of Bay Ridge, along famed Ridge Boulevard.  Not to be confused with Sunset Boulevard, darlings, but give us some time, because, once this place is fully decorated, and ready to be shown, it and moi will give Norma Desmond a run for her money!!!!!!

                                     The emotionality of the the move was strange.  Monday, I spent my last night in Woodside, and, while that weighed on me, somewhat--15 years is 15 years; even prisoners, so I am told, feel a pang of change over leaving prison--it wasn't like that last time, in 1997, when I left Bay Ridge, for Queens.
As we pulled away from Woodside for the last time, I said goodbye, as I would to a host, after a lengthy visit as a guest.  No tears, no pangs of regret.

                                      So, I was quite surprised the next day, when, moving from Monsieur's on Bethune Street, in the West  Village, I found myself crying genuine tears.  I cried for him, who was leaving a place he had inhabited for 32 years--never mind longer than I lived in Woodside; how about longer than the home I was raised in, in Highland Park, New Jersey????--leaving a neighborhood almost every Manhattanite desires to live in, and leaving a place that, over time, I had come to regard as home, too.  For, as our relationship evolved, so did the living spaces; going back and forth between the two, and using the Woodside locale basically as a Weekend Pensione, because, let's face it, commuting to work in Manhattan from the West Village is a hell lot more convenient than Woodside, Queens.  Not to mention more appealing.  So, I  had real sorrow, as we pulled away from Bethune Street.

                                     At 1:30, on Wednesday, we officially walked into our apartment, as joint residents of Bay Ridge.  It has, and is still, going to take some getting used to, even though I am much more familiar with the area than Monsieur.  And it is the living space itself, and not  living with Monsieur, that is going to take some adjusting to, despite what some may think.  I have no qualms about living with him; there is no adjustment, here, save, as I said, of space.

                                     Friends and relations have weighed in with congratulatory phone calls, and emails. Oh, and for those out there who may be calling us, be forewarned.  There is a new message on the answering machine, at Monsieur's request, and it is a lengthy one, so you have to listen, if you wish to leave a message.  It is none other than I, delivering Gladys Cooper's famous speech about "suffering" from "The Song Of Bernadette!"

                                   You better believe I am going to St. Andrews Church (the most "gay friendly," I am told) this Sunday, to offer up Thanks!!!!!!

                                     What else can I say, darlings, but Alleluia????????????????????????