7.11.02 – it’s too hot out

6.26.02 – earwigs and sex toys

my new apartment is full of earwigs. i hate earwigs. zeke is really good at spotting them, but he won’t eat them. he just sort of goes on point and meows at the floor where the earwig is, and then i have to be the creepy-crawly whomper. tonight i scooped one up with an envelope and carried it to the kitchen sink. i shook the card. the earwig clung tight. i flipped the card harder. suddenly the earwig was gone, but there was no sign of him in the sink. that began one of those oh-my-god-the-earwig-is-on-me dances, trying to brush off all my clothes and hair at the same time. i never found the earwig, so now i’ve got that skin crawling sensation that lasts for hours after a close encounter with a spider.

a concerned reader writes in to assure me that an archer wand (see entry below) is a brand of dildo. it really sounds more like a dorky sort of D&D weapon to me. [rolls the dodecahedron dice] “a six! ha! with a flick of my archer wand, i inflect toe-curling, spine cracking orgasms on the evil troll so that i can pass safely across the bridge while he pants in oblivion.” ah, well. we can tell where i spent my time in high school. no prom night sex, but i did play a pretty mean elf.

6.23.02 – if you keep writing, i won’t have to…

today’s selection wins the award for the oddest piece of fan mail:

Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 20:03:36 -0400

Subject: Slithy-tove

From: jen lxxxxx

To:

Hey Jen,

Do you have a photo of you on your site? I found your pages by accident and

want to find out what you look like so I can play with my archer wand while

thinking of your articulate lips.

woo! women never hit on me. i’m more than just a set of articulate lips, i’ll have you know.

6.21.02 – international karmic DOO DOO

today’s selection from the slithy tove inbox gets the award for most creative use of punctuation and capitalization. not to mention the excellent phrase “international karmic DOO DOO” which i will try to work into a conversation at least once today:

From: 0000000@hotmail.com

To: celia@slithy-tove.net

Subject: bad bad man

Date: Thu, 20 Jun 2002 10:17:18 -0700

That Brit is an arrogant tool for thinking you’d CARE what he has to say about the Tove! And if he devotes time and energy to spreading international karmic DOO DOO via the Internet, he can’t be much of a firecracker in real life, himself!

Toodles!

A Fan of the Slithy-Tove

thank you for the warm fuzzy hate mail, all of you. and, from my apartment complex’s newsletter:

June is…Child Vision Awareness month, Fireworks Safety Month, International Men’s Month, Turkey Lover’s Month, National Pest Control Month, Accordian Awareness Month, National Iced-Tea Month, National Rose Month, National Safety Month, Rebuild Your Life Month, Student Safety Month, National Fruit and Vegetable Month, and National Dairy Month

man, who knew we had that many reasons to celebrate this month? given that there are only so many days in June, i propose that we combine a few of the holidays in to larger, uber-holidays: International Men Control Month, National Turkey-Lover’s Accordian Safety Month, or Rebuild Your Child’s Vision Thru Roses, Dairy and Iced-Tea Month.

6.19.02 – it never rains but it pours

from the slithy tove inbox:

From: 00000000@aol.com

Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2002 18:41:51 EDT

Subject: anonymous hate

To: celia@slithy-tove.net

miz slithy,

you are frightfully lithe and fetching in a most venomous manner. your willingness to bare yourself online makes baby jesus cry, and i feel sure that your unwavering friendship and incessant sympathy would bear me hurtlingly doomward, you redheaded nyarlathotep. i thank my lucky stars that i’ve never known the horror of your acquaintance. a pox on your dainties! i love and miss, i mean, hate your stinking guts!

via e-mail.

if only all my hate-mail were worded so eloquently – it would be joy to read about how i’ve offended the online world with my neuroses and amateurish photos and lists of three. :) i’d better go check my dainties for any signs of pox, tho…that sounds bad. love you and miss you, too.

6.18.02 – from the slithy tove inbox:

From: “ZenCom” studio@zencom.fsnet.co.uk

To: celia@slithy-tove.net

Subject:

Date: Thu, 13 Jun 2002 13:29:36 +0100

jesus what a bore you must be in real life. And the arrogance to put it up for others to read is astonishing. Helloooo – you are very dull.

boo hoo hoo. someone out there doesn’t think i’m very funny. i appreciate the anonymous comment, tho. maybe we should have a better forum for anonymous insults. anonymous tip: your blog is boring. anonymous tip: your feet smell. anonymous tip: you overused the word “anonymous” in today’s post. well, i suppose i shall pick up the pieces of my shattered ego and continue to use slithy tove for what it is: a creative work space for me to explore anything that might be on my mind at the given moment, with zero responsiblity for being exciting or funny. it’s terribly liberating. i can mispell things if i want to. i can use the wrong form of “it’s”. i can publish pictures of last week’s trip to bruneau sand dunes (below) or lists of what is in my fridge as the fancy strikes.

the 80-hour work weeks have been keeping me from posting, but i had two (count ’em!) whole days off in a row this weekend and then the above piece of fan mail inspired me to get off my butt and post some pictures before i go to bed tonight.

Bruneau Sand Dunes, 10 June 2002

6.1.02 – lists of three from 3300 lake harbor lane

this is my first experiment in living alone. not that i’ve been home much to try it out, but some of the advantages seem to be:

– spontaneous living-room-dancing whenever the fancy strikes

– i can drink o.j. straight from the carton without checking to see if anyone’s looking

– the freedom to wander around the house in various states of undressed-ness

given a choice i’d much rather have a roommate, particularly given that i’ve had pretty good roommate karma thus far, but i can’t complain about the fact that i’m living in a two bedroom apartment rent-free, courtesy of the theatre i work for. zeke even has his own bathroom. the lake is 20 feet from my back patio, and there’s a trio of ducks that visit the back porch to snack on stale sourdough bread every morning. i’ve named them Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Maria. it’s not a building with character – it’s a beige box in an anonymous apartment complex midway across town, but i love all of the greenery and the lake just outside my window, i love that i can move in with my box of japanese wall-hangings and my paper lanterns and tapestries from london and a box of thumb tacks and make this place feel like mine, even if it’s only for a few months.

the fridge contains:

– an empty brita pitcher (minus the filter)

– honey

– a bottle of thai cooking sauce (unopened)

rules for the new house:

– there will be music, quality lighting, and laughter here.

– the work stays in the office; my bedroom is for sleeping and chilling out and not for working.

– zeke shall not sharpen his claws in the brand-new carpet, as i have just put down a $400 pet deposit.

5.27.02

i logged 89 hours at work this week. that’s what i get for asking for this promotion, i guess. i’m exhausted, and this week have alternately been frustrated, confused, lost, excited, amused, proud, awkward, uncomfortable, and a whole array of other emotions that come along with a new job and a really steep learning curve. i have 27 actors i’m responsible for scheduling into costume fittings, rehearsals, dance rehearsals, vocal rehearsals, photo shoots. i know where all 27 of them are on stage at all moments of the play, which props they carry, and when the sound, light and sets change. i’m rehearsing two plays simultaneously (much ado and twelfth night), i have three assistants, an electronic leash (cell phone), my own office and finally a paycheck that actually pays the bills. not that i’ve had a lot of spare time to spend cash anyway. much ado opens in 12 days, after which my schedule ought to slow down considerably. still no internet access at my house, and i have to get out of this fluorescent box that is my office now.

tomorrow is my first day off in 15 days. no one had better call me before noon. i’m going to unpack my apartment and go see star wars and do NOTHING that is theatre-related at all.

5.22.02

i am stretched beyond the limits of creative endurance at work this week. and i don’t have a phone/internet access at my new apartment. more soon.

5.19.02 – plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery

er, yeah. i’ve been a busy girl this week. i have a new apartment, a new job, my own desk, and an assistant. been working lots, and spending my free time stressing out over things i can’t control. so, in lieu of my own interesting thoughts, i defer to some of my other favorite blogs:

paul paints!

lauren brings up the question of best beginnings/endings: my contribution is Tony Kushner’s Bright Room Called Day:

Now.

Before the sky and the ground slam shut.

The border is full of holes.

and enjelani once again says the things that i meant to say. (may 15).

as i was typing those lines from Bright Room Called Day, i suddenly smelled cinnamon. i sniffed the book: nope. how does a disembodied smell just suddenly drift by? perhaps i burned a cinnamon candle while reading Bright Room once? but no, i read it in the airport, in a patch of warm sunlight; i recall tears blurring my vision as i closed the book, not because it was so sad, but because it was so perfect.