Mehitobel Wilson: writer, reader, chronic curmudgeon.

Tomboy bombshell cowgirl; lover of funk, attracted to roadsides.

Besotted with spots.

Friend to sleaze.

Admirer of filthy films, fleshy steaks, Hong Kong rap, new felt and pocket-knocking 8-balls; prefers 10 gallons of hat and 4 fingers of Jack.

Procrastination here breeds urgency there. Urgency begets sharper fiction. The dream: hone it to a splinter, and sink it deep.

So I'm here.

Animal Electronics

Hot screamin' woo-hoo, I'm getting badass new computer things. My home machine has been misbehaving, taking my money for hardware repairs (which infuriates me, I hate it when I can't fix something myself) - and I've outgrown it.

So I went shopping. The laptop I'll be getting soon is five times the -everything- that my current desktop is, and I am overhappy. Plus! It's FRICKIN' SNAKESKIN! (No leopard yet. I am patient. Besides, the free Palm thinger that comes with the laptop does have a leopard faceplate, so I'm soothed. And surely about to become a Palm gadget-addict.)

I'm just thrilled to live in a world where one can order a FRICKIN' SNAKESKIN computer.

New photos are up at my website. Be sure to click on the Currydawg so you can see her kill me.

Yeah, well, that's all I have for ya tonight. Lucky you.


posted by Mehitobel Wilson at 10:01 AM

Brain Directed Elsewhere

Wow. I sure as shit have nothing to say here, but I’m being pressured by the Hordes to say something, so I’ll give it a shot.

Uh.

An old friend (and very sweet, well-remembered ex) has a web journal on another host, and HIS lets you view calendar pages of entries. I was so jealous of this that I nearly switched journal joints. Then I talked myself out of it: I don’t post to this one enough as it is. However, I can NOT get frickin’ Blogger to consistently present my evah-so-imperative leopard background. I fix it every 3 weeks. Grrr.

Meanwhile, my website is being a pain in the ass – my nice little menu frame launches new windows half the time, and loads correctly the other half. It worked fine for years, and now, no. I’ve tested. I’ve tweaked. I’ve snarled. Bastard website.

My friend Nolan just gave me Flash. Flash. Flashy flashy Flash. Perhaps now’s the time to set up a Flash navbar for the awfully-popular and frequently-visited (snort) Mehitobel.com?

Or perhaps now’s the time to forge further ahead on The Mysterious Story, which is now at 8,000 words and Nowhere Close to Done. I’ll probably end up writing 15k and then sawing it all down to 8 or 9k. It’s now officially the longest thing I’ve written that wasn’t meant to be a novel. (I usually realize at about 40k in novel attempts – only two so far – that I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, or I discover that there’s some mighty-massive flaw of logic or tone that can only be fixed by starting all over again.) I’m uncomfortable with it, this length thing. It’s nice to have the freedom to include broader details and longer conversations, nice to be able to convey a little more about conversant characters through their dialogues with the protagonist, but… well, you know me. I want to cut to the chase.

Ironic that I say that while writing this meandering entry, innit?

Valentine’s, they call this. I barf like a chicken on this day. Isn’t the meatiest part of romantic love the part where you do things and say things NOT because you’re obligated, but because you just can’t refrain? Yet this day, obligation is the point.

It’s always a memorable day, though, I can say that for it. There may be hundreds of days I’ve been “in love” that I don’t remember, but I remember a lot of Valentine’s days.

Today isn’t at all memorable. Good thing I’m writing this entry today, just to prove that I did wake up and function.

A “memorable” day is usually a “horribly crappy day you’d rather forget,” though, so I’m not complaining. My exciting plans for tonight include: a nap. The possible purchase of food items, and consumption of said items. Possible phone call. Possible beer. Certain further forays deeper into the Land of 8,000 Words.

This weekend, since I’ve got a story to finish, I think I’ll finally repair my crappy dresser (so my crappy clothes won’t lay on the crappy floor anymore, well, for a couple days anyway) and fix my crappy web page and berate myself for procrastinating and do a crappy job on my repairs and THEN finish the story. Hurray!

For some reason, frogs keep affiliating themselves with me and Love. One Valentine's Day I was given a jar full of dead frogs: "The Frogs of Love, Not for Human Consumption." In lieu of an engagement ring, the Almighty Julian gave me Humboldt the Engagement Frog. Our engagement didn't last, but Humboldt did. And tonight - after writing this - I learned that Providence Jeff (aka The Samoan) wore all green today, which is dang froggy of him.

And, since I love YOU, I give you:


posted by Mehitobel Wilson at 5:15 PM