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<





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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
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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




























 







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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.


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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

 
Friday, February 04, 2005  
Along with my monster headache, yes, I still have it, and frankly, I’m hoping it is an inoperable tumor because I’m better off dead anyway, I’ve come down with a terrible case of HWNMNBS. This is one of the worst bouts I’ve had in a long time and it’s all but debilitated me.

Love: The ugly underbelly.

I never could get the hang of Thursdays...
Or, why is everyone always picking on me?
Or, why do I bother?
Or, if this is just life, I’ll just decline, thanks anyway.
Or, Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I’ll go eat worms

It’s days like these when I really, really, really long for a very different life and for things which might have been.

Long, trying, tiring days at work with an idiot boss, demanding clients, surly coworkers (I’m going to go Postal on TEETH very soon and that both scares and pleases me.), headache which will not go away, friends with serious problems, my own problems and issues...this is when being in a good, solid relationship with someone you trust and love, someone who reciprocates that trust and love, is really helpful. This is what it’s all about. Someone who understands and cares and is there for you, to just be with you, to talk it out or quietly just be together makes all the difference at the end of this sort of day. I know because I had someone like that once. It was nice. It made the rest of life tolerable. A little oasis from the world, a place to lick your battlewounds, gain strength and courage to get up and get back out there, and once there, the smug safety and security of knowing you have someone who loves and cares about you, someone who understands and will be there for you when yet another difficult day hits.

It’s not about flowers or exotic trips or lavish gifts or, well, anything being heavily marketed for Valentine’s Day as romantic. (Something else causing a lot of stress in my life and making me hope I have an inoperable brain tumor) It’s just having someone who cares and someone to share a laugh.

It’s days and times like these when I miss him most. Because he used to get it. I never had to explain any of it. He knew when I needed to talk about it or laugh about it or talk about something else or just be quiet.

I don’t have regrets. I make the best choices I can in any situation, I try to be informed and look at options from all perspectives and then make a decision which is not always the best for me but the best choice for the situation or, you know, the greater good. Yeah. I’m swutting Mother Theresa.

The good thing about that course of action in every choice making situation is that you eliminate guilt and regret. You know you did the best thing for the situation based on what you knew at the time. You don’t spend time looking back on the past microexamining every detail about what you did and what you could have done and what might be different now had you chosen a different course of action.

The bad thing about that course of action in every choice making situation is that you sometimes end up wishing you’d been more selfish or not been so swutting “good.”

Which is a different kind of regret which isn’t really a regret at all.

It’s more of a self hatred thing.

I have always contended that I do not regret meeting and allowing myself to get involved with HWNMNBS. I love him, yes, present tense, even now, even after all this time and all that's happened and all that he's said and done to me. I hate that I can't stop loving him. I hate that I don't hate him. I hate that I'm ugly. I hate that I'm not good enough for him. But. I have no regrets about those things. I can't change any of those things, those are things beyond my control. I gave him the best I could, I put all of myself into making it work, I invested all of my heart, brain, body, soul, time, money and effort in him and us. I let him in my life and allowed myself to be vulnerable. And I've paid the price for that. Retail. Not on sale. No discount. Full, marked-up, high street retail price.

I’m sick of dating. I’m sick of trying to move on. I’m sick of knowing what and how I want to feel about and with someone, and not feeling those things with anyone. I’m sick of being judged. I’m sick of not being good enough. I’m sick of being a loser. I’m sick of being alone. I’m sick of missing him. I’m sick of trying to pretend I can get over this. I’m sick of deluding myself that I have any chance at any sort of a real relationship with any other man. I'm sick of hoping there's one man out there who will want to be with me regardless of my looks and, erm, um, baggage.

If I could have one do-over in my life, it would be the precise moment, and I know exactly when it was, the date, time (to the exact minute) and place, in which I decided to follow my heart and get involved with him.

If I could go back, I would ignore him. I wouldn’t look in his eyes. I wouldn’t listen to his words. I wouldn’t hear him laugh. I wouldn’t feel his hand in mine. I wouldn’t let him hold me. I would simply ignore him and walk away.

I hate that it has finally come to this, that I have reached this point. Because the times with him were the best in my life. I’ve never laughed more, never felt so alive, and have never been happier than I was with him. And I hate that I wish those times never happened because I know it’s not right to feel that way. If I were a better, stronger, more emotionally stable and well adjusted person I wouldn’t be going through this. I could smile at the good memories, learn from the bad ones and move on to the next one.

But I’m weak and sentimental and I love him and I miss him. And that really swutting hurts. A lot. Lots of a lot. I’m miserable and most of all, I’m lonely without him.

And so, today, I am making the milestone proclamation:

I wish I’d never met him.

I regret all of it.

Yes. She Who Has No Regrets, has finally achieved a milestone moment in her life.

Her first regret.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think my first regret would be HWNMNBS. Oooh, look how I've grown. Look how my life has changed. Look at all I've learned about myself.

I'm not saying I like having a regret. I don't. I don't like it one bit. But. There it is. I have one. A big swutting, horrible hornet's nest of a regret. This is a new feeling for me and it's going to take some time for me to get used to it.

This is going to sneak through the editorial board, from my HWNMNBS-Free zone, no less, because I’m really swutting suffering and I’m not sure if I can or will post for a while. If I can, I will. Take a look around the archives if you need a Trillian fix, I’ll try to pull out a few highlights.

1:26 PM

 
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