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:

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<

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Trillian McMillian
Trillian McMillian
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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
Enter ZIP Code:

or Search by State

Find State Officials
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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.)



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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


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?!)


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.


Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto


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

Wednesday, January 18, 2006  
Why Can't We Be Friends?
Last night Bill Murray and I went shopping. I helped him decide on a suit and some shoes. He bought me a pair of shoes he said "should do the trick." I said, "or at least turn a few tricks." This was kind of big because it's the first time I recall actual dialog from a dream and it was kind of funny. But he was still mopey and down because he'd been turned down for a role he really wanted. He was taking it well. I mean, better than most people in his position would take rejection. Then we were walking on a beach in Winter. It might have been Lake Michigan because there was snow and ice and it was cold. He was wearing a parka. Not a cool new fly parka, but a parka from like 1978. I was in my pajamas and socks. We were walking my stuffed poodle. He was saying there were only so many Life Aquatics and Broken Flowers out there and the audience is limited and they don't bring in money and artistic integrity is lost on the bottom line.

I hear you brother, oh boy do I hear you. In fact I probably put those words in your mouth.

I woke up feeling really depressed about the state and future of society.

These Bill Murray dreams are making me think about some things. Mainly depressing and stressful things.

We seem to be really great pals in these dreams. Which is cool. Being pals with a guy like Bill Murray, or even the actual Bill Murray is cool. He seems nice. Sincere. All that stuff us chicks dig. He's depressing and mopey and a perpetual downer in my dreams, but hey, what are friends for if not to ease the pain of bad times?

It’s not surprising to me that Bill and I are buddies in my dreams. I’m buddies with a lot of guys. In fact some of my best friends are guys.

I’m at that awkward phase in a spinster’s life when all her female friends are very, very occupied with babies and young children. If they don’t yet have them, they are consumed with trying to have them or making plans to have them.

Right now I don’t have much in common with my girl friends. Because my girlfriends are all married or in serious relationships. Most of them have babies and/or young children. Those who do not yet have children are absolutely consumed with having children. Buying bigger houses to accommodate the babies they want to have. Spending all their spare time in with their partner in the pursuit of making a child.

Great for them, bad for me. I don’t exactly fit in with any of that. I serve no purpose in their lives except to remind them how lucky they are they are no longer single. It’s awkward for all of us. And as for the friends who’ve had children, I dare you to try to hold an actual conversation for more than 90 seconds with a mother of a two year old. And if by some rare miracle you are able to have an interruption-free conversation with that two year old’s mother, the topic of conversation will inevitably turn to the two year old. Children consume women. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be. My friends are just being good mothers. Bad friends but good mothers. Well. That’s not really fair. We just have very little in common right now.

So for single women in that phase of life, that all her friends are getting married and having babies phase of life, she either stays in, does stuff on her own, or cultivates friendships with single men.

I’m lucky. I already have guy friends. A lot of them. So I’ve never been at a loss for friends. Oh sure, they’re not girl friends, and yes, there’s a huge difference, but they’re good friends and that’s cool. I’m lucky. Really lucky. I’ve always had guy friends. Having guy friends has never been a problem for me. Guys like me in the just friends capacity.

I'm the girl who they can really talk to, you know? I'm the girl who can fix their iPod and not make them feel stupid for not knowing how to do it themselves. I'm the girl who can not only give them solid advice on what camera/shoes/wine/appliance to buy, but where they can get the best deal. I'm the girl who makes them laugh. I'm the girl they call when a date "goes weird" and they need advice. And reassures them that the girl is indeed interested in them or a complete wacko as the situation requires. Yes I'm the girl who listens to their problems with other women. I'm the girl who they never, ever, not in a zillion years would ever consider dating. Because "it's not like that" with me. I'm just a friend. And when they say this, other people know they're not lying. Because it's obvious he would never, ever, not in a zillion years be interested in me "that" way.

Yes. I am that smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women men say they want. But in actuality they want a pretty girl who's easy to get into bed and doesn't give them any lip or complications. They want to be friends with smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women, but they don't really want to date one.

That's the problem with smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women. When we open our mouths we tend to complicate things. We raise points and issues which haven't occurred to him. We make him think about something other than himself and sex. If he doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of us he has to think sharp. And he soon realizes he has to tell the truth because any smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women worth her description will see right through a lie and kick his sorry lying ass to the back alley where it belongs, or we'll toy with him by using our virtue, that nice thing, forgiving him while gently but firmly making him aware that we know he lied.

Men say they want us, but they don't.

They want to be friends with us, we can be very helpful and a lot of fun. But they don’t want to date us.

There are tons of us out here, us smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women. We're single and trying to find a smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring man. And this is what leads me to believe men a) lie, and b) have an entire double helix of hypocriticism.

I am that above described girl. I have lots of guy friends. I am often the lone woman with whom their wives/girlfriends are not jealous. They'll let him go away on entire weekend road trips with us because they know there would never be anything going on between us. Because even though I'm a great pal to their man, they know even if their man had a lapse of judgment or too much beer I, the shining beacon of virtue, would not allow anything to happen out of respect for their wife/girlfriend and the friendship. Yes. Their wives/girlfriends rely on us to keep their men faithful. If you think this sounds crazy, guess again.

I recently had a discussion with some other single smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women. We were sharing tales of our shared problem of always being the buddy and never the girlfriend. Why? we pondered, if we're not good enough for them to date us, why would they even want to be friends with us? Even if they just really like us as friends (and really, who could resist?) why would they be okay with continually hurting us by making remarks like, "Date her? Are you kidding? We're just friends." That's not a friendly thing to say. It's an incredulous and loaded statement implying we're not good enough for them to date. And yet we're good enough for them to call us in the middle of the night when they can't figure out how to merge two spreadsheets or load iTunes or select wine. And yes, that's what friends are for, of course. And we're good friends and so we help them and don't get hurt when they make comments implying we're just one notch above algae on the datable scale. We do this because we are good friends and gracious people. And after all, we're smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women. Stuff like that doesn't get to us. We understand. We care about him and his crisis of the moment. We don't mind helping him. That’s what friends do.

Yeah. Right. We don't mind.

Actually, we really don't mind if these remarks are coming from a guy we ourselves in fact would never, ever, not in a zillion years consider dating.

But that issue rarely gets any mention. It's rarely a case of people assuming we're not interested in him. If the question of the nature of a relationship between a man and a woman arises, it will almost without fail first be presumed they are "just friends" because the man is not interested in her "that" way. Apart from what you might see on Elimidate, ladies' choice is of little concern when assumptions about the nature of a relationship are being made.

I know, I know, there are cases where this happens. I know. But think about the people you know or even complete strangers you see when you’re out and about. What assumptions have you made when you realize they’re just friends?

I'm not saying I begrudge my guy friends. I like them. I really like them. And I know they like me. These are solid friendships with people I genuinely like.

But then there are the other guy friends. The ones which began as dates or crushes but went nowhere "that" way. We faced a choice: Be friends or part ways.

I used to think it was great to salvage these things with a friendship.

I'm changing that point of view.

I thought it was just me who felt bittersweet about these relationships. He's great, he thinks I'm great, we really understand each other, we get along really well, tell each other inner thoughts and secrets...wait a minute. That's exactly what I'm looking for in a relationship. So why am I spending time with this guy who likes me but doesn't deem me worthy in "that" way? Why am I letting myself get unintentionally hurt every time he has another new girlfriend who is absolutely not smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, and caring? Why do I make a quick witted one liner and smile like I mean it when he says, "I want to meet someone like you, you know? I want her to be my best friend."

While I’m sitting there smiling like I mean it, I’m thinking, “Erm, um, okay, that would be really great and I hope you find her because you're my friend and I want you to be happy, but could you please explain what you see happening to our friendship when you find this girl who's just like me but datable? And by the way, do you realize how insulting and hurtful it is for you to sit there and tell me you want to date someone just like me who’s not me? The assumption being that I’m not your version of a sex goddess and therefore not datable? Come on, I better than anyone know what you like. I’ve nursed you through two Fatal Attraction-esque break ups. Don’t try to kid me and don’t insult me or my intelligence.”

One of the smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women in the discussion was feeling particularly down about this exact situation because her best friend, a guy, effectively dumped her for his new girlfriend who is, well, just like her. He hasn't called her for two months. He sent her a form blast email holiday greeting. They used to do everything together. Let me be clear: They weren’t dating, they never dated, and neither one of them was harboring deeper feelings for the other. And she realizes they can't do everything together now that he's got a girlfriend, she's smart, remember? But he's dropped her completely. Dumped her. Except they weren't dating. They were just friends. Well. Just best friends. And now she's feeling not only hurt by her best friend's callous and unthoughtful behavior, but, because he's a guy, she's feeling that she was merely filler until his next great girlfriend came along. She’s questioning their entire friendship. And yes, that’s a girl thing to do, but still. This guy’s behavior toward his alleged best friend is deplorable. Maybe guys are okay with their guy friends pulling this kind of crap, but that doesn’t make it okay. It’s still rude and hurtful behavior.

Which is why I'm changing my outlook on boy-girl friendships. Unless both parties can and do simultaneously date while maintaining the friendship, it's not a good idea. Even if the honest intentions were good, someone's going to end up feeling like filler.

And apparently more often than not it's a smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman.

I'm feeling a little better about things after this discussion. I thought that kind of crap only happened to me. Ugly girls learn to expect this sort of thing. We understand it’s all about sex and having sex with a prettier girl. But these women are all very attractive. These are not Velmas. These are Daphnes with Velma’s brain. So no, their looks have nothing to do with it. And I find that somewhat comforting. I don’t usually like being a statistic or trend, but in this case it makes me feel a little better about myself. It doesn't make it right, but it helps me realize I'm not alone. Other smart, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women are plagued by the "just friends" thing.

A few went away from that discussion vowing to never enter into another friendship with a man. "He dates me or not. Period. If not, I move onto the next one never looking back."

If you're sitting there saying, "Oh, but they'll miss out on such wonderful friendships." I have two words for you: Bull shit.

This isn't grammar school and we're not in our twilight years. We have friends. Lots of friends. Good friends. Friends who've been with us and stood beside us through thick and thin. We really do not need more "guy friends" who will be interested in us only until their next girlfriend enters the picture or until they realize we in fact mean it when we say no friendly no strings attached sex, or even unfriendly sex.

So this whole Bill Murray pal thing doesn’t seem particularly out of place in my life. That’s the thing about these dreams: Apart from Bill’s mopey demeanor they’re normal. Friends, hanging out, no implications. And in the case of Billy Murray that’s cool. Because I don’t think of him that way. So there’s a huge comfort level in these dreams where we’re friends. Maybe that’s why he’s depressed and sad - he trusts me and knows he doesn’t have to put on a front for me. He doesn’t have to smile like he means it around me because he knows I understand and care about him. Yeah. I’m swell. Even in my dreams. What a gal. What a pal. Yep. That’s me. Swell person, great friend but you wouldn’t want to date me.

On the friendly theme, remember the aging Iron Maiden Fan? The smoking rock and roll guy with a rap sheet? Well, I did it. I went out with him.

That’s how low I’ll go. I went out with a guy I know is completely wrong for me, and worse, I know I’m completely wrong for him.

It became obvious on the date. The thing is, this guy is nice. He’s honest. He’s sincere. There’s no hidden agenda and he’s truly a nice person. He has terrific manners and is very respectful. He wouldn’t smoke around me even though I know a couple of times he really wanted a cigarette. I’m sure he noticed the two very attractive women who entered the bar, but he didn’t ogle them or even give them a glance. He focused on me, his date for the evening. (This is the first date I’ve been on during 50 First Dates where the guy didn’t at least once scan the room obviously checking out the “scene” and other women to hit on when our date ended. Yes guys, I know you do this. I know this because sometimes I do it, too.)

He asked me a lot of questions about me because he was genuinely interested in getting to know me. We both had to explain a lot about ourselves because we come from very, very, very different types of lives. The more we learned about each other, the more obvious it became that this is just never in a million years going to work.

And it’s too bad. Because most of our core values and what we want in a mate and relationship are exactly the same. But in our case it’s just not enough. He doesn’t understand why I would stay at a job I don’t like. That’s what he does. He’s quit several jobs. To say his resumé of work experience is a colorful and rich tapestry is an understatement. Well. More like a crazy patchwork quilt. He’s working right now, but only to save money so he can quit and spend time working on his bike when the weather turns warmer. He’s staying with a friend and as long as he pitches in for booze and smokes he’s welcome to stay there. Apparently his friend’s old lady is cool and doesn’t mind him hanging around.

Yes. The man is technically homeless. Which is why he has the luxury of being able to just quit a job. It’s not that he’s irresponsible, he had a place with his ex old lady and since she had kids and they were in school, when they broke up he thought it would be best for him to move. It would be less disruptive for the kids. Even though it meant he’d be homeless or at least at the mercy of friends and relatives until he got back on his feet and finds a place he can afford. Yes. The guy is very thoughtful and nice.

He wanted to know what I like to do for fun. I told him the basics and said I was into photography. He thought that was cool. He knows a guy in New Mexico who takes pitchers and sells them to tourists. It wasn’t until he mentioned this guy has his own darkroom that I realized he’s taking photographs, not stealing Native American Pueblo earthenware artifacts and selling them to tourists. Pitchers. Pictures. Photographs. I could relay the actual conversation which smacks of Who’s on First, but I don’t want to embarrass either one of us. I respect him. He is sincerely interested in what interests me. He’s interested in his friends. He’s a good friend. He’s hoping to ride out to see his photographer friend in New Mexico this Summer. He said he’d bring me a pitcher. He’s thoughtful. He asked me about my cat. I tried not to be too enthusiastic about Furry Creature's many fine qualities because that’s a huge turn off for men. For some reason men hate women who love cats. (I know the reasons, guys, don’t bother to explain. That’s sarcasm there.) He asked me more questions about my cat. He likes cats. He thinks they’re cool. He likes that I like cats. He wanted to know if I had a pitcher of my cat. I did. (natch) And showed it to him. He pointed out several small details which only someone who really likes cats and/or cares about me and/or is polite would notice. He offered to help me take him to the vet. He’s got a little trailer for his Harley. He thinks Furry Creature’s carrier would fit on it. Before I could say anything he said, “But the noise from the bike would probably scare him. That’s probably not a good idea. He doesn’t need that kind of stress.” He’s helpful and considerate.

But we both know we live in very different and incompatible worlds. He smokes. Cigarettes and weed. I don’t smoke anything and I don’t like being around people who do. He understands and respects this. I have a busy and demanding job and spend a lot of time in the office. I get up early, stay late. He sleeps in and works second shift. He’s not big on movies or museums or reading or well, anything that I do when I’m not working. I’m not big on motorcycles or in home tool and die shops. We could work around these things if we were head over heels with each other but we’re not.

We’re friends.

So yeah. Back to the dating sites. Apparently a lot of men made new year’s resolutions to get out there and insult, I mean date women.

Yep. It's
creep week

This week's creep of the week is a guy who on his profile claims to want an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman with a graduate or doctoral degree. Hey, he’s not fooling around with that intelligent thing.

Apparently he thinks I might be one such woman. But apparently he's not certain. Because here's the email
he wrote,

"I don't understand your profile. It's really wierd [sic]. It must be a joke one, right? Men don't like wierd [sic] women but I like you'r [sic] smile so I'm willing to take a chance that your[sic] funny."

Erm. Okay. Well. Um. Gee, thanks.

Just to be certain everything was okay with my profile I looked at it. Okay. I’m willing to admit I’m weird by some standards. But. This was my more “normal” profile. I don’t think most people, or at least people who want to meet an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring women, would judge me “weird” by this profile. If anything, I think I come across as boring on this profile.

But maybe not. GoCubbies thinks it’s weird. Lucky for me he’s willing to take a chance with me because he likes my smile. Whew. Those four years of orthodontia finally paid off for me. Wavy imagination sequence to me on my wedding day, GoCubbies at my side, me addressing the guests at our wedding, “And I’d like to thank my orthodontist for making this all possible. Without him, GoCubbies wouldn’t have liked my smile and wouldn’t have given me a chance because I’m weird. Thank you orthodontist, thank you. I owe you so much. You told me all the pain and suffering and teasing would be worth it and you were so right. Because of you I’m now Mrs. GoCubbies.”

His profile is sparse, but what’s there is the normal cliché stuff. Looking for an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman. Moonlit beach walks, romantic dinners, jeans or tux, Cubs season ticket holder. Looking for soul mate or at least a Cubs fan. Blah blah blah.

But when he came profile to profile with an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman what does he do? Insult her and compliment her only on a physical characteristic he found attractive. So much for the advanced university education and all that intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman stuff.

He’s normal. Normal’s good, right? I need more normal in my life. Obviously GoCubbies thinks I’m weird I should re-evaluate and evolve. Change to fit the mold men actually want. You know, normal. Forget all that intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring stuff. That’s only what men say they want. Some of them even honestly believe that’s what they want. But they don’t. Not really. Not in actuality. They like the idea of an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman, but when they’re staring one in the face as a potential date it turns out what they meant by an intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, caring woman was a normal, mediocre, subservient woman who only laughs at his lame jokes and is thoughtful enough to sit through an entire season at Wrigley field with him. They don’t want her smarter than themselves because that’s intimidating and threatening and a huge blow to his ego. What they really want is a complacent, kow towing girl who’s pretty and easy to get into bed. I’m thinking GoCubbies, who’s willing to take a chance with me because of my smile might be just the guy to help me become normal. Help me be less intelligent, confident, funny, thoughtful, honest, and caring and more vapid, insecure, dim witted, callous, rude liar who laughs at all his lame jokes, makes him feel superior and puts out on the first date.


11:45 AM

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