It’s Dorothy Parker’s birthday today, queen of all things satirical in the 20s. During my junior year of college, I had the pleasure of directing Ms. Parker’s Here We Are as a one-act. The short story, which was originally written for Cosmopolitan Magazine in 1931 is written entirely as dialogue. It features just two characters, He and She, en route to New York City for their honeymoon. It was a spectacularly fun experience directing the racy comedy, whose premise sits firmly on sexual tension, at my extremely conservative university. If you’ve never had the pleasure, find a copy for yourself. It’s absolutely worth the 10 minutes it will take you to read it. Here’s a bit to whet your appetite:

HE SAID
Well, you see, sweetheart, we’re not really married yet. I mean. I mean—well, things will be different afterwards. Oh, hell. I mean, we haven’t been married very long.

SHE SAID
No.

HE SAID
Well, we haven’t got much longer to wait now. I mean—well, we’ll be in New York City in about twenty minutes. Then we can have dinner, and sort of see what we feel like doing. Or, I mean. Is there anything special you wanted to do to-night?

SHE SAID
What?

HE SAID
What I mean to say, would you like to go see a show or something?

SHE SAID
Why, whatever you like. I sort of didn’t think people went to theatres and things on their—I mean. I’ve got a couple of letters I simply must write. Don’t let me forget.

HE SAID
Oh. You’re going to write letters to-night?

SHE SAID
Well, you see, I’ve been perfectly terrible. What with all the excitement and everything, I never did thank poor old Mrs. Sprague for her berry spoon, and I never did a thing about those book ends the McMasters’ sent. It’s just too awful of me. I’ve got to write them this very night.

HE SAID
And when you finish writing your letters maybe I could get you a magazine or a bag of peanuts.

SHE SAID
What?

HE SAID
I mean, I wouldn’t want you to be bored.

SHE SAID
As if I could be bored with you! Silly! Aren’t we married? Bored!

HE SAID
What I thought, I thought when we got in we could go right up to the Biltmore and anyway leave our bags, and maybe have a little dinner in the room, kind of quiet, and do whatever we wanted. I mean. I mean—well, let’s go right up there from the station.

SHE SAID
Oh yes, let’s. I’m so glad we’re going to the Biltmore. I just love it. The twice I’ve stayed in New York we’ve always stayed there. Papa and Mamma and Ellie and I, and I was crazy about it. I always sleep so well there. I go right off to sleep the minute I put my head on the pillow.

HE SAID
Oh, do you?

SHE SAID
At least, I mean. ‘Way up high it’s so quiet.

HE SAID
We might go to some show or other to-morrow night instead of to-night. Don’t you think that would be better?

SHE SAID
Yes, I think it might.

Happy birthday, Dorothy!

Yesterday, as happens every few months, I spent over twelve hours in the basement of the local community center. This is because every couple of months the community theatre I referenced the other day holds auditions for its new production. In yesterday’s case, we were auditioning youth and young adults for The Wizard of Oz. As auditions typically are, the day was very long and filled with nervous actors, parents asking multitudes of questions, and frustrations over who would be precisely the right choice for a particular role. All that said, auditions are one of my favorite days of the year. Chaotic though they may be, auditions are when my true talent, organizing, comes through.

I spend my typical day working in information technology. I’ve been playing with computers for a long time and am pretty good at troubleshooting problems and explaining to folks how to better use their software, but my real ability lies in organizing information. I simply adore making lists, making sure databases have all the proper bits of information in their fields, color coding, and filing. In truth, I’d probably make a spectacular personal assistant, which is really a shame because being a personal assistant does not require a college degree and does not pay very well. So, in lieu of making organizing my full-time job, I take great pleasure in getting everything in order for a day of auditions. What could be better than preparing audition forms—copying them double-sided to stay green and reduce the increased paper shuffling—compiling the list of actors who will be sharing their talents, stapling together forms, headshots, and theatrical résumés, and assigning numbers to help my directors stay more organized? Though many would surely say that sounds miserable, I can’t imagine anything better. (Well, aside from perhaps drinking a glass of wine with friends in an avant garde art gallery somewhere.) Especially amongst creatives who typically have difficulty remaining organized and focused, I really feel like my ability is unique and helpful.