Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<





Join Zipcar and get $25 in free driving!

Trillian McMillian
Trillian McMillian
Create Your Badge





www.flickr.com





Instagram






Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?


"50 First Dates"






Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
Enter ZIP Code:

or Search by State

Find State Officials
Enter ZIP Code:

or Search by State

Contact The Media
Enter ZIP Code:

or Search by State





Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)

Quasar
Hyperbole
Amenable
Taciturn
Ennui
Prophetic
Tawdry
Hubris
Ethereal
Syzygy
Umbrageous
Twerp
Sluice
Omnipotent
Sanctuary
Malevolent
Maelstrom
Luddite
Subterfuge
Akimbo
Hoosegow
Dodecahedron
Visceral
Soupçon
Truculent
Vitriol
Mercurial
Kerfuffle
Sangfroid




























 







Archives
<< current
ARCHIVES
4/27/03 - 5/4/03 5/4/03 - 5/11/03 8/3/03 - 8/10/03 8/10/03 - 8/17/03 8/17/03 - 8/24/03 8/24/03 - 8/31/03 8/31/03 - 9/7/03 9/7/03 - 9/14/03 9/14/03 - 9/21/03 9/21/03 - 9/28/03 9/28/03 - 10/5/03 10/5/03 - 10/12/03 10/12/03 - 10/19/03 10/19/03 - 10/26/03 10/26/03 - 11/2/03 11/2/03 - 11/9/03 11/9/03 - 11/16/03 11/16/03 - 11/23/03 11/23/03 - 11/30/03 11/30/03 - 12/7/03 12/7/03 - 12/14/03 12/14/03 - 12/21/03 12/21/03 - 12/28/03 12/28/03 - 1/4/04 1/4/04 - 1/11/04 1/11/04 - 1/18/04 1/18/04 - 1/25/04 1/25/04 - 2/1/04 2/1/04 - 2/8/04 2/8/04 - 2/15/04 2/15/04 - 2/22/04 2/22/04 - 2/29/04 2/29/04 - 3/7/04 3/7/04 - 3/14/04 3/14/04 - 3/21/04 3/21/04 - 3/28/04 3/28/04 - 4/4/04 4/4/04 - 4/11/04 4/11/04 - 4/18/04 4/18/04 - 4/25/04 4/25/04 - 5/2/04 5/2/04 - 5/9/04 5/9/04 - 5/16/04 5/16/04 - 5/23/04 5/23/04 - 5/30/04 6/6/04 - 6/13/04 6/13/04 - 6/20/04 6/20/04 - 6/27/04 6/27/04 - 7/4/04 7/4/04 - 7/11/04 7/11/04 - 7/18/04 7/18/04 - 7/25/04 7/25/04 - 8/1/04 8/1/04 - 8/8/04 8/8/04 - 8/15/04 8/15/04 - 8/22/04 8/22/04 - 8/29/04 8/29/04 - 9/5/04 9/5/04 - 9/12/04 9/12/04 - 9/19/04 9/19/04 - 9/26/04 9/26/04 - 10/3/04 10/3/04 - 10/10/04 10/10/04 - 10/17/04 10/17/04 - 10/24/04 10/24/04 - 10/31/04 10/31/04 - 11/7/04 11/14/04 - 11/21/04 11/21/04 - 11/28/04 11/28/04 - 12/5/04 12/5/04 - 12/12/04 12/12/04 - 12/19/04 12/19/04 - 12/26/04 12/26/04 - 1/2/05 1/2/05 - 1/9/05 1/9/05 - 1/16/05 1/16/05 - 1/23/05 1/23/05 - 1/30/05 1/30/05 - 2/6/05 2/6/05 - 2/13/05 2/13/05 - 2/20/05 2/20/05 - 2/27/05 2/27/05 - 3/6/05 3/6/05 - 3/13/05 3/13/05 - 3/20/05 3/20/05 - 3/27/05 3/27/05 - 4/3/05 4/3/05 - 4/10/05 4/10/05 - 4/17/05 4/17/05 - 4/24/05 4/24/05 - 5/1/05 5/1/05 - 5/8/05 5/15/05 - 5/22/05 6/5/05 - 6/12/05 7/24/05 - 7/31/05 7/31/05 - 8/7/05 8/7/05 - 8/14/05 8/14/05 - 8/21/05 8/21/05 - 8/28/05 9/4/05 - 9/11/05 9/11/05 - 9/18/05 9/18/05 - 9/25/05 9/25/05 - 10/2/05 10/2/05 - 10/9/05 10/9/05 - 10/16/05 10/16/05 - 10/23/05 10/23/05 - 10/30/05 10/30/05 - 11/6/05 11/6/05 - 11/13/05 11/13/05 - 11/20/05 11/20/05 - 11/27/05 12/4/05 - 12/11/05 12/11/05 - 12/18/05 1/1/06 - 1/8/06 1/8/06 - 1/15/06 1/15/06 - 1/22/06 1/22/06 - 1/29/06 1/29/06 - 2/5/06 2/5/06 - 2/12/06 2/12/06 - 2/19/06 2/19/06 - 2/26/06 2/26/06 - 3/5/06 3/5/06 - 3/12/06 3/12/06 - 3/19/06 3/19/06 - 3/26/06 3/26/06 - 4/2/06 4/2/06 - 4/9/06 4/9/06 - 4/16/06 4/23/06 - 4/30/06 4/30/06 - 5/7/06 5/7/06 - 5/14/06 5/14/06 - 5/21/06 5/21/06 - 5/28/06 6/11/06 - 6/18/06 6/18/06 - 6/25/06 6/25/06 - 7/2/06 7/2/06 - 7/9/06 7/30/06 - 8/6/06 9/10/06 - 9/17/06 9/17/06 - 9/24/06 10/8/06 - 10/15/06 10/29/06 - 11/5/06 11/5/06 - 11/12/06 11/12/06 - 11/19/06 11/26/06 - 12/3/06 12/3/06 - 12/10/06 12/17/06 - 12/24/06 12/24/06 - 12/31/06 12/31/06 - 1/7/07 1/21/07 - 1/28/07 1/28/07 - 2/4/07 2/4/07 - 2/11/07 2/11/07 - 2/18/07 2/18/07 - 2/25/07 2/25/07 - 3/4/07 3/4/07 - 3/11/07 3/11/07 - 3/18/07 3/18/07 - 3/25/07 3/25/07 - 4/1/07 6/24/07 - 7/1/07 7/1/07 - 7/8/07 7/8/07 - 7/15/07 7/15/07 - 7/22/07 7/22/07 - 7/29/07 7/29/07 - 8/5/07 8/5/07 - 8/12/07 8/12/07 - 8/19/07 8/19/07 - 8/26/07 8/26/07 - 9/2/07 9/9/07 - 9/16/07 9/16/07 - 9/23/07 9/23/07 - 9/30/07 9/30/07 - 10/7/07 10/7/07 - 10/14/07 10/14/07 - 10/21/07 11/4/07 - 11/11/07 11/11/07 - 11/18/07 12/9/07 - 12/16/07 1/6/08 - 1/13/08 1/13/08 - 1/20/08 1/27/08 - 2/3/08 2/3/08 - 2/10/08 2/10/08 - 2/17/08 2/24/08 - 3/2/08 3/2/08 - 3/9/08 3/9/08 - 3/16/08 3/16/08 - 3/23/08 3/23/08 - 3/30/08 3/30/08 - 4/6/08 4/6/08 - 4/13/08 4/13/08 - 4/20/08 4/20/08 - 4/27/08 4/27/08 - 5/4/08 5/4/08 - 5/11/08 5/11/08 - 5/18/08 5/18/08 - 5/25/08 5/25/08 - 6/1/08 6/1/08 - 6/8/08 6/15/08 - 6/22/08 6/22/08 - 6/29/08 6/29/08 - 7/6/08 7/13/08 - 7/20/08 7/20/08 - 7/27/08 8/3/08 - 8/10/08 8/10/08 - 8/17/08 8/17/08 - 8/24/08 8/24/08 - 8/31/08 8/31/08 - 9/7/08 9/7/08 - 9/14/08 9/21/08 - 9/28/08 9/28/08 - 10/5/08 10/5/08 - 10/12/08 10/12/08 - 10/19/08 10/19/08 - 10/26/08 10/26/08 - 11/2/08 11/2/08 - 11/9/08 11/9/08 - 11/16/08 11/16/08 - 11/23/08 11/30/08 - 12/7/08 12/7/08 - 12/14/08 12/14/08 - 12/21/08 12/28/08 - 1/4/09 1/4/09 - 1/11/09 1/11/09 - 1/18/09 1/18/09 - 1/25/09 2/1/09 - 2/8/09 2/8/09 - 2/15/09 2/15/09 - 2/22/09 3/29/09 - 4/5/09 5/3/09 - 5/10/09 5/10/09 - 5/17/09 5/17/09 - 5/24/09 5/24/09 - 5/31/09 5/31/09 - 6/7/09 6/7/09 - 6/14/09 6/14/09 - 6/21/09 7/12/09 - 7/19/09 7/19/09 - 7/26/09 7/26/09 - 8/2/09 8/2/09 - 8/9/09 8/9/09 - 8/16/09 8/16/09 - 8/23/09 8/23/09 - 8/30/09 8/30/09 - 9/6/09 9/20/09 - 9/27/09 9/27/09 - 10/4/09 10/4/09 - 10/11/09 10/11/09 - 10/18/09 10/18/09 - 10/25/09 10/25/09 - 11/1/09 11/1/09 - 11/8/09 11/8/09 - 11/15/09 11/15/09 - 11/22/09 11/22/09 - 11/29/09 11/29/09 - 12/6/09 12/6/09 - 12/13/09 12/13/09 - 12/20/09 12/20/09 - 12/27/09 12/27/09 - 1/3/10 1/3/10 - 1/10/10 1/10/10 - 1/17/10 1/17/10 - 1/24/10 1/24/10 - 1/31/10 1/31/10 - 2/7/10 2/7/10 - 2/14/10 2/14/10 - 2/21/10 2/21/10 - 2/28/10 3/14/10 - 3/21/10 3/21/10 - 3/28/10 3/28/10 - 4/4/10 4/4/10 - 4/11/10 4/11/10 - 4/18/10 4/18/10 - 4/25/10 4/25/10 - 5/2/10 5/2/10 - 5/9/10 5/9/10 - 5/16/10 5/16/10 - 5/23/10 5/23/10 - 5/30/10 5/30/10 - 6/6/10 6/6/10 - 6/13/10 6/13/10 - 6/20/10 6/20/10 - 6/27/10 6/27/10 - 7/4/10 7/4/10 - 7/11/10 7/11/10 - 7/18/10 7/18/10 - 7/25/10 7/25/10 - 8/1/10 9/19/10 - 9/26/10 10/3/10 - 10/10/10 10/10/10 - 10/17/10 10/17/10 - 10/24/10 10/24/10 - 10/31/10 10/31/10 - 11/7/10 11/14/10 - 11/21/10 11/28/10 - 12/5/10 12/5/10 - 12/12/10 12/12/10 - 12/19/10 12/19/10 - 12/26/10 12/26/10 - 1/2/11 1/2/11 - 1/9/11 1/9/11 - 1/16/11 1/16/11 - 1/23/11 1/23/11 - 1/30/11 1/30/11 - 2/6/11 2/6/11 - 2/13/11 2/13/11 - 2/20/11 2/20/11 - 2/27/11 2/27/11 - 3/6/11 3/6/11 - 3/13/11 3/13/11 - 3/20/11 3/20/11 - 3/27/11 3/27/11 - 4/3/11 4/3/11 - 4/10/11 4/10/11 - 4/17/11 4/17/11 - 4/24/11 4/24/11 - 5/1/11 5/1/11 - 5/8/11 5/15/11 - 5/22/11 5/22/11 - 5/29/11 5/29/11 - 6/5/11 6/12/11 - 6/19/11 6/19/11 - 6/26/11 6/26/11 - 7/3/11 7/10/11 - 7/17/11 7/31/11 - 8/7/11 8/21/11 - 8/28/11 8/28/11 - 9/4/11 9/18/11 - 9/25/11 9/25/11 - 10/2/11 10/2/11 - 10/9/11 10/9/11 - 10/16/11 10/16/11 - 10/23/11 10/23/11 - 10/30/11 11/6/11 - 11/13/11 11/13/11 - 11/20/11 11/20/11 - 11/27/11 11/27/11 - 12/4/11 12/4/11 - 12/11/11 12/11/11 - 12/18/11 12/25/11 - 1/1/12 1/1/12 - 1/8/12 2/5/12 - 2/12/12 2/19/12 - 2/26/12 3/4/12 - 3/11/12 4/1/12 - 4/8/12 4/15/12 - 4/22/12 4/29/12 - 5/6/12 5/13/12 - 5/20/12 5/20/12 - 5/27/12 6/24/12 - 7/1/12 7/1/12 - 7/8/12 7/8/12 - 7/15/12 7/15/12 - 7/22/12 7/22/12 - 7/29/12 7/29/12 - 8/5/12 8/5/12 - 8/12/12 8/12/12 - 8/19/12 8/19/12 - 8/26/12 8/26/12 - 9/2/12 9/2/12 - 9/9/12 9/9/12 - 9/16/12 9/16/12 - 9/23/12 9/23/12 - 9/30/12 10/7/12 - 10/14/12 10/21/12 - 10/28/12 11/4/12 - 11/11/12 12/9/12 - 12/16/12 12/23/12 - 12/30/12 1/6/13 - 1/13/13 1/13/13 - 1/20/13 1/20/13 - 1/27/13 1/27/13 - 2/3/13 2/3/13 - 2/10/13 2/10/13 - 2/17/13 2/17/13 - 2/24/13 3/3/13 - 3/10/13 3/17/13 - 3/24/13 3/31/13 - 4/7/13 4/7/13 - 4/14/13 4/21/13 - 4/28/13 4/28/13 - 5/5/13 5/5/13 - 5/12/13 5/12/13 - 5/19/13 5/19/13 - 5/26/13 6/16/13 - 6/23/13 6/23/13 - 6/30/13 7/14/13 - 7/21/13 8/11/13 - 8/18/13 8/25/13 - 9/1/13 9/8/13 - 9/15/13 9/22/13 - 9/29/13 10/13/13 - 10/20/13 10/20/13 - 10/27/13 11/10/13 - 11/17/13 12/1/13 - 12/8/13 12/15/13 - 12/22/13 12/29/13 - 1/5/14 6/29/14 - 7/6/14 9/14/14 - 9/21/14 9/21/14 - 9/28/14 10/12/14 - 10/19/14 11/23/14 - 11/30/14 12/7/14 - 12/14/14 12/28/14 - 1/4/15 1/25/15 - 2/1/15 2/8/15 - 2/15/15 2/22/15 - 3/1/15 3/8/15 - 3/15/15 3/15/15 - 3/22/15 3/22/15 - 3/29/15 4/12/15 - 4/19/15 4/19/15 - 4/26/15 5/3/15 - 5/10/15 5/17/15 - 5/24/15 5/24/15 - 5/31/15 6/14/15 - 6/21/15 6/28/15 - 7/5/15 7/5/15 - 7/12/15 7/19/15 - 7/26/15 8/16/15 - 8/23/15 11/6/16 - 11/13/16



Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue

Slanglish

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations


Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"


















 
Mail Trillian here





Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)

CellStories

Alliance for the Great Lakes


Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras


The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.



Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.

Shag

Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto

Jotto




Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.





Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"







Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


< chicago blogs >





Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains





























Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero

 
Thursday, December 16, 2004  
As the creative driving force of the company, I am frequently asked by co-workers to "help" with personal projects. Children's' birthday party invitations. Engagement party invitations. Office party decorations.

In the past three months (yes, the very same past three most chaotic, busy, emotionally draining and trying of my life months which some of you have painfully endured with me) I have been the one person decoration crew for: Two retirement parties, one baby shower, one "we just landed a huge client" party, a sales drive kick-off (this is a bi-monthly requirement of mine, apparently. The sales manager is one of those people who uses themes and "awards" and kick-off parties to motivate the sales staff. There is a plethora of Successories items in their office. Natch.), four birthday posters and (so far) three holiday parties. I have also designed and coded several webpages in conjunction with these and other events ("as long as you've already got the graphics, you can just post it, too." Want to say: "Post this you swutting inconsiderate jujuflub!" Instead say: "Yeah okay." because yes, I will already have the graphics and what's a little coding and posting and I just want this person out of my office and life as quickly as possible.)

I could almost understand/expect to be crowned Queen of all things Festively Decorated if these soirees were in my own department, among/involving my immediate co-workers. But with the exception of the baby shower and one of the holiday office parties, I was asked/imposed upon/threatened/blackmailed to come up with a theme, design and produce decorations for parties for people and departments in which I do not work and barely know the people involved. Simply because I am the driving creative force of the company. Which apparently leads people to feel free to impose, I mean ask, me to manage the design, decor, theme and production of party related paraphernalia. (Word spreads. If I'd said no the first time, had my former boss not "cleared it" I wouldn't be in this situation, with this reputation today.)

I could almost, sort of, kind of understand being asked to "help" with work related functions, or at least functions taking place in the office or for people who work in my company. But more often than not, the office party, co-worker roasting poster, party invitation is for someone I do not directly work with, and most often do not even know. And even more often than that, these requests are for parties/people completely unrelated to anything to do with work. Children's parties. A sister's friend's engagement. A father's retirement.

Sometimes these are truly fun projects. A chance to get all wacky creative and do things I don't normally get to do with projects at work. The birthday posters and retirement/leaving party invitations have become a particular specialty of mine, I'm sort of known for them, and given enough time, I actually enjoy them.

Unfortunately, I don't like most of my co-workers. So no matter how much devilish fun I could have with their personal projects these requests are always a huge imposition.

Wait, back up a minute. Regardless of the status of co-workers, no matter how happy and peaceful and friendly your office is, these requests are always impositions.

Because I have an actual job. Projects. Deadlines. Things to do, people to see. A paycheck to earn.

But people, people who need favors, are the neediest people in the world.

They will beg, whine, pout and threaten to "clear it" with my boss.

I always wonder how these conversations go. I cannot even comprehend the act of going to someone's boss and requesting a personal favor. I wish I had nerve like that. I wish I had no conscience like that. I wish was as stupid as that. I wish I had a set of balls like that.

Obnoxious Moron at Work (OMAW): "Hi Creative Driving Force's boss. How are you? Did you catch that game/movie on Lifetime last night?"

Boss of Creative Driving Force (BOCDF): "Yeah, wasn't it too bad they lost/sad when she died?"

OMAW: "Really a shame. Say. You know what be more of a shame?"

BOCDF: (gasp, worried look) "No, what?"

OMAW: "If my kid's birthday party/engagement party/funeral notice didn't look good."

BOCDF: "That would be a horrible shame."

OMAW: "Yes. A terrible shame. So I spoke with Creative Driving Force and she said she's too busy to do this for me and something about abusing company resources. Very uncooperative, she was, not much of a team player. I told her I'd clear it with you."

BOCDF: "Yeah. She can be that way. I'm sure it wasn't anything personal. She's just a bitch. I'll have a chat with her and be sure she understands she needs to make your kid's birthday party/engagement party/funeral notice an award winning design. Consider it cleared. Because I am God to her. My commands are non negotiable. Because I am her boss. And she must obey me. No matter how unethical or inappropriate the command. She. Must. Obey."

OMAW: "Thanks, I knew you'd understand."

BOCDF: "Don't mention it. Really. Don't mention it to anyone. Ya goin' to Margie's party tomorrow?"

OMAW: "Of course!"

BOCDF: "Me too! See you there!"

OMAW then, chest puffed up all snarky like, marches (yes, marches) back to my office and says, "I cleared it with your boss. I want something with (an officially licensed and copyrighted character), a photo of my kid/fiancé/e/dead person, here are the hand written and barely legible details and I need 73 copies by tomorrow afternoon. Your boss said it was okay to use any time and company resources necessary."

"Oh. Okay. But. See. There are copyright issues, you can just go around using the likeness of licensed characters all willy nilly."

"Oh come off it. It's my kid's birthday party/engagement party/funeral notice. No one's going to see it. It's not as if we're making money on this."

"No but, I mean, Darby Conley might not like Bucky or Satchel's likenesses affiliated with your engagement. He might find it offensive. In fact, he'd probably find you offensive for even considering using his characters for your invitations. It's beyond copyright infringement. It's about personal ethics. How would you like it if some complete stranger used the likeness of something you created for their kid's birthday party?"

"I wouldn't care." (They never do. Never. Not ever. No one would care if their licensed and copyrighted characters were used without permission. I find this very difficult to believe. Hence a large portion of my distrust of the human race.)

"Look, I'll do something cute/nice/clever okay?"

"Okay. But I need them tomorrow. And make them look as good as those ones you did for (other co-worker)."

"I'm on a deadline, I mean, I'll try, maybe day after tomorrow?"

"No, they gotta be in the mail day after tomorrow. Tomorrow. I need them tomorrow. I cleared it with your boss."

(Strike me down now, please. Just let me die a quick but violent and messy death right here in my office, in front of this audacious, inconsiderate moron. Let that be on their conscience. Let the image of me simultaneously combusting, heart still beating as it bursts out of my chest, head blowing up a la Scanners and then bursting into flames be the vision they carry with them throughout the rest of their long and miserable life.)

Ahem.

Just a little fantasy I've been harboring for a while.

Silly really, because...

My Job Rocks. Part III

Holiday madness is now in full swing. I don't like the holidays. I really, really do not like the holidays. I don't even like the term "the holidays." I really, really do not like "the holidays" this year. Single, alone, sick and struggling mum, friends everywhere but near, trying to finalize moving house across town, dead mice...things are not all festive and jolly in Trillville.

Not that they ever really were. Well. I mean. There were a few years there, The HWNMNBS Years, those were festive and jolly and full of hope. And there were some holidays when I was a kid which where great.

But since hitting adulthood, apart from The HWNMNBS Years, Trillville is not the place to be for happy holidays.

I am begging you, pleading with you, those of you who love "the holidays" and are happy and festive and merry and bright, to please, please be considerate and understanding that not everyone shares your enthusiasm for "the holidays." We are not mean people. We are not Grinches. We are not Scrooges or any other holiday spoiler character. We are happy for your spirit and happiness over "the holidays." Sometimes you even make us smile or laugh. (But some of you just make us nauseous and annoy the bile out of us.) We mean you no harm or ill will. We'd just like it if you'd show us the same respect and not shove "the holidays" down our throats.

It doesn't mean we're depressed, bitter or Jewish.

We just don't like the over commercialization and insane marketing of the industry which has become "the holidays."

Maybe some of us are depressed, bitter or Jewish. So show a little swutting respect and compassion.

If you know the creative driving force of the company (or anyone else) has been going through a lot of personal crisis' lately, maybe it's not the year to beg them to design your personal Christmas cards. I saw some very cool cards at MCA gift shop. Maybe someone else in the office can handle the decorations for the office holiday potluck and gift swap for a change. Maybe, just maybe, they're too swutting busy with their actual job to do any of this.

I've heard there are departments and even entire companies which slow down and even nearly stop working during "the holidays." I cannot even imagine such a place. My mind goes completely blank at the thought of not having much work to do because it's "the holidays." So apart from being a huge professional and ethical imposition, requests for personally designed items and decorations are also huge personal impositions, particularly during "the holidays." Creative driving forces have to do all the same things as everyone else: Shop, attend stupid but required functions, send holiday greetings...

Maybe, if anyone paid any attention at all, someone might realize The Creative Driving Force has been in the office earlier than everyone and leaving later than everyone lately except for weekends when they trek five hours to help take care of their sick mother. And maybe then it might occur to someone that they're too busy and don't even care about your stupid holiday cards and the inane office party and gift swap in the first place.

But no. No one will notice these things. Or care about them. And if the Creative Driving Force mentions any of these issues, someone will just march over and "clear it" with their boss.

I always assume I get a lot of personal favors begged of me at work because people are oblivious. So I'm going to enlighten those of you who might not otherwise realize that Creative Driving Forces are not magicians. Invitations, decorations, posters, websites and whatever other creative thing you need take time and thought to design and produce. We make it look easy because we're good at our jobs. We're like Olympians. If we're even moderately okay designers and have semi-current technology at our disposal, we can make it seem effortless and even fun. What you don't see are the rejected ideas, the stumped thoughts, the 1 AM moment of Eureka!, the paper jams, the cyan toner cartridge which is new but the printer says is empty...just because "creative" is in the job title doesn't mean it's just one big inspired thrill a minute. We're mortals, too. We have to think and work and fight with office equipment just like you.

Just in case anyone out there is unaware, designers charge money for these sorts of things. Many designers charge a lot of money for these sort of things. My company charges other companies a lot of money for my work. Of which I get paid an infinitesimal fraction so just wipe that snarl of jealousy off your face. I'm poor. I am grossly underpaid. I am: The Company Whore. My talent, creativity and time is sold on the streets. My pimp is the company, and they're doing quite well for themselves. Like all whores, I am expected to look and behave as if I am earning all or at least a fair cut of the profit so the clients don't feel guilty or wrong for using me. The Company likes to parade me (and/or my talent) around like an exotic seductress, a siren of creativity and good taste. But the harsh reality, when the clients aren't around, is that I am grossly underpaid and barely surviving while my pimp is having a grand time with the money I earn for them. They rape me of my talent, sell it and turn a nice profit for themselves. (This is especially true for people in the recording industry, too, by the way. And a lot of other industries, too. It's called capitalism. But on a personal level, if you're only taking home a small fraction of the money earned off your talent or skills or hard work, if the income balance is tipped unfairly against you, sorry to tell you: You're a whore for your employer. Don't be bitter and resentful (like me) just realize this is going on and don't be so quick to be so understanding when your boss tells you there won't be any salary increase for you this year.)

I'm not chastising anyone, per se, I'm just taking a minute to ask you to keep in mind, when you beg that favor from the creative driving force of your company, even if they oblige with a smile and eager willingness, even if you don't have to stoop to the "clearing it" level, that if you were to have the same professional quality work done by someone other than the person you are begging the work from, you would be paying a lot of money, or at least some money, for their services and time.

The person in your office might turn down the offer of money or even be embarrassed by the mention of money (creative driving forces, especially the young ones who are not yet jaded, are nice this way and "wouldn't dream of charging a friend or colleague for their services") but you should offer a token of appreciation.

At the very least a piece of cake from the event the person helped decorate.

The offer of "I'll buy you a drink/take you to lunch" is rarely appropriate. Sorry. I know this sounds ungrateful. But. These are almost always shallow, vague offers which both parties know will never be taken. And even if there are genuine, specific offers made, chances are you and the creative driving force don't know each other very well for very good reasons. You probably won't have much to talk about and will probably discover you don't like each other that much. If you've "cleared" anything with their boss, they hate you and the last thing they want to do is share alcohol or food and time with you.

To be fair, I have received a few tokens of appreciation which were really nice: A certificate to a shoe store (top of the list of thoughtful, personal, obviously from someone who actually cared gift of thanks); cookie/candy basket; flowers (this is really nice but be sure they're not a big bouquet of roses which will just look a little weird and send a very wrong message to a) the creative driving force and b) the rest of their office); a bottle of booze (and for swut sake, at least take the time to find out what they like, or if they even drink (most creative driving forces drink. heavily. and just about anything. "Here Trill, do you like Armagnac?" offering a two litre bottle, "I do now!")) It's okay to re-gift, in this case, but for swut sake don't let on that it's a re-gift. Yes, someone had the nerve to say to me, this is an exact quote, preserved here for posterity and for all the world to read as the most tacky token of appreciation ever offered: "Thanks for the decorations for our office holiday party. (your welcome, what's your name again?) It looked great. You're amazing. (Thanks, tell HWNMNBS that, will you?) You should do this professionally. (erm, um, I do do this professionally) Everyone loved it. I cannot believe what you were able to pull off with just two days notice. (good thing you "cleared it" with my boss) It was the best party our department has ever had. I can't wait to see what you come up with for us next year. I won this gift certificate for ($20 at the city's most expensive restaurant, that $20 won't cover the coat check) at my wife's company party. We'll never go there. (Like I would? You're in Cost Analysis you know I'm the company whore and earn no money, you imbecile.) I'd like you to have it in appreciation for all your efforts." Guy in Cost Analysis, I hope you are reading this, recognize yourself and are embarrassed and ashamed. Nothing, zero recognition, would have been more appropriate than that feebly offered useless re-gift.

More proof that people, as a species, are obnoxious, rude, inconsiderate, selfish, loud mouthed co-workers who use those traits to get their way. All the time. No matter what. They always get what they want. And if they want the creative driving force of the company to design and print and hand embellish their holiday cards, then that is what they will get. Let it be written, let it be law. "Cleared" and everything.

My job is so cool and so much fun that I not only get to deal with high maintenance clients, inept and rude co-workers, unrealistic deadlines, vendors who don't deliver as promised, all on time and under budget, I also get to design everyone's personal projects and decorations for every party. Now that's a fun job.

1:15 PM

 
This page is powered by Blogger.