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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or Search by State

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Contact The Media
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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

 
Wednesday, January 25, 2006  
Last night I ran into Bill Murray at the ATM. Which I thought was weird. I guess I thought people "like" Bill Murray don't need ATMs. I don't know why I thought people like Bill Murray wouldn't need cash, but for some reason I thought I never gave it enough thought to care about thinking about why I would think they wouldn't need cash or use an ATM. I think I might have thought they had their people do that for them. But then how would the whole exchange of cash happen? Would they have their gopher bring an envelope of cash to their house or hotel? That would be kind of weird. And inconvenient.

This is why it's a good thing I will never be rich or famous. Not only do I not know how to play the game, I wouldn't know how to perform regular tasks. I'd be a really bad rich or famous person. I'd constantly be caught by the National Enquirer in those candid photos of rich and famous people doing regular stuff and looking really bad.

Anyway, I was in a mad panic rush depositing a check at the ATM. I was upset and worried because I hadn't arrived before close of business because I had a problem at work so my deposit wasn't going to count until the next business day which wasn't until Tuesday and it was only Friday night. But I was still feverishly trying to get the deposit in there thinking maybe 2 minutes past the hour might still count as that business day. But I knew it wouldn't because this is the same bank which charged me a $35 overdraft fee when I once dipped 3¢ negative for approximately six hours between close of business and 12:01 AM when my direct deposit clicked into my account. (That wasn't just in my dream, that actually happened in real life.) So I was all stressed and tense knowing I was a few minutes too late but for some insane reason still all worked up to a fever pitch trying to speed up the ATM deposit process. I was thinking the ATMs are purposely programmed to operate slowly so that the bank can potentially make a lot of money in $35 overdraft fees with the extra minute the ATM takes to process the deposit. Yes. I'm a little on the paranoid conspiracy side of things in my dreams.

I was standing there trying to shove the deposit envelope into the ATM faster than it would accept it when Bill came into the lobby. He seemed happy to see me and not the least bit surprised to run into me. I thought it was weird to see him there but I didn't want to embarrass him or myself so I just tried to act casual. I mean, I was happy to see him, too, and it wasn't weird for me to be seeing and talking to Bill Murray as if we were lifelong friends, but weird because I thought "here's this guy I know well enough that I don't think of him as a celebrity, yet I wondered if he carries cash or why he would even need cash." So it felt awkward for me because I felt like I wasn't a very good friend. Even though we've been through so much together I had no idea he used ATMs or that he even needed cash, but then, why wouldn't he need cash?

Seriously, this is why it's really good that I will never be rich or famous.

Anyway, he invited me to go to the movies with him and his wife.

More real life stress in my dreams.

I really felt like taking in a movie with friends but because I was making a mad dash deposit and missed the close of business deadline I knew I was cash poor. I couldn’t afford to go to a full price evening movie because I wasn’t certain without that deposit posting that day I’d even have enough cash to feed Furry Creature until Tuesday. So I thanked him and made up a polite excuse.

This happens to me a lot in real life, too. People, friends, invite me to go places and do things but I decline the invites because I simply cannot afford to play with them. They don’t worry about catching a movie at the matineé or cheap theatre pricing. They don’t worry about going out to lunch instead of dinner because it’s less expensive. They don’t worry about waiting for final mark-down sales because they can afford to shop at full retail. Basically, they don’t live on a fixed income like a poor or cheap senior citizen or college student. So they can live their lives like normal people, going to movies and dinner on weekend nights and shopping for in-season goods when the goods are, well, in season.

And there was this issue playing out in my dream. And, as with my real life friends I’m sure if Bill knew the truth he’d happily offer and even insist on paying my way. Which is really swell of my friends (I have really swell friends) but I’m really sick of being a charity case. Not that they view me as charity or in any way imply that. It’s all me and my own dissatisfaction with my ability to bring in a decent income or find a husband to share financial burdens.

So, just like in real life, I moped off home to my tiny compartment wishing I could afford to go to the movie with my friends instead, but too stressed about missing the close of business at the bank to spend the cash on something as frivolous as entertainment.

Sleeping = dreams, dreams = stress and anxiety, so for me sleeping = stress and anxiety.

So I think I’m going to cut off the medication and go back to not sleeping. At least that way I’m not plagued by all too real and every day stressful situations via Bill Murray.

Meanwhile, back on the dating sites a similar issue is cropping up. All these drinks after work, cups of tea for coffee dates, transportation to and from the rendezvouses have cost me a lot of money. Money I could have spent doing something with my friends. Money I could have spend enjoying myself. Money I could have not spent at all.

As much as I just want the whole 50 first dates thing to be over, I’m not exactly eager to spend more money, another penny, on a wasted first date. And yes, at this point, no matter what sort of inspirational/motivational greeting card platitude line of crap you want to spin on it, these dates have all been wastes of time and money.

Have I learned anything about myself? No, not really, not anything particularly useful other than confirmation that I am in fact not only unloveable but also undateable.

Have I learned anything about men? Well. Now. I suppose yes, I have. Although again, nothing particularly useful for my purposes. What I’ve learned about men in general during this whole thing has mainly concerned or annoyed me. What I’ve learned about men is that they deem me not only unloveable but undateable. I’ve learned they are (generally, guys, generally, I’m not talking about you, I know you’re swell) selfish, egotistical, hypocritical, shallow, arrogant, lying, real estate hawking jerks with little sense of humor and even less intelligence who really just want quick and easy sex with a slim petite blonde or Asian between the ages of 18 - 25.

Easy there, boys, easy. I know, I know, you’re not all like that. I know. But you’re married or dating or living thousands of miles away or gay or not interested in me.

And I also know the source this treasure trove of men must be considered in the equation. Go fishing in shallow muddy water and you’re going to catch a lot of bottom feeders.

Right. Back to my situation with the dates. I am beyond broke. I have medical and dental expenses like you cannot believe. If the choice is a) meet a guy for a first date or b) do something with a friend or c) feed my cat, well, I think it’s meeting yet another guy for a first date is not my first choice.

Maybe if I were more psyched for the dates or the men. Maybe if some, or even one, really swell guy were interested in me I’d feel very differently.

But now I absolutely have to add the financial factor into my decision making about what men I will actually meet in person.

Not only do they now have to pass a few email and phone call hurdles before I’ll consider meeting them, they also have to pass the money worthy test. I have to ask myself if I honestly think he’s worth the $10+ I’d spend on that meeting. Well. Maybe not him so much as the date. Yes. That’s better. Is the date worth $10+?

In most cases so far: No.

So with that in mind, here’s this week’s
creep week

Okay, this week's creeps might have potential. But I'm not sure. My intuition says no but maybe I'm wrong.

Right off the bat I had misgivings. Why? Idiotic and possibly suggestive screen name. AllNightLong. Okay. He's either bragging or is a big Lionel Richie fan. Either way, big red flag on the screen name.

Okay, I could live with the bragging but I could never seriously date a Lionel Richie fan.

His winning first impression letter of introduction? Oh, he's quite the charmer. He found my profile "really funny. I LMAO! No one makes fun of loser on these sites. Its [sic] awesome you do."

Okay, um, see, the thing is, I don't make fun of anyone, loser or otherwise, in my profile. When I mention the sort of man I'd like to meet I'm very serious. Credit to AllNightLong, though, because he actually read my profile. Apparently he took me at my word that I have a sarcastic sense of humor. Apparently he thought my profile was one long sarcastic joke at people, "losers," who use online dating sites.

Because he then went on to say, "How many losers think your [sic] serious?"

Well, AllNightLong, a lot of jerks and weirdoes, but so far only one bona fide loser.

But maybe I'm too harsh.

Maybe AllNightLong is exactly the sort of guy I need to meet. He's interested in dating or a serious relationship. But not marriage. Okay, I usually bottom of the list the guys who aren't brave enough to admit or really do not want to consider marriage. But he's open to a serious relationship. And after all, he's a few years younger than me, doesn't smoke, is employed in sales and he's tall. I mean, what more do I really need? A non-smoking tall young stud in sales. A girl could do
worse for herself.

Except I have concerns about his career. One of the key strategies of selling anything, including yourself, is to never assume anything. If he's bold/stupid enough to assume I'm making fun of people in my profile, and even bolder enough to write me explaining he thinks it's funny that I'm making fun of people, well, I'm guessing he's not the top earner every quarter. I'm guessing he barely makes his quota. If it weren't for the guys down at the shop putting in their monthly order he'd be in big trouble with the team drive leader.

It's not that I want a rich guy. It's not even that I want a man with a "good" job. But I don't want a guy depending on a sales commission which he's too stupid to earn because he goes around making assumptions and offending/alienating/angering potential customers by broadcasting those assumptions.

But then, on the other hand, my assumption is he's a bad salesman who either goes all night long or listens to a lot of Lionel Richie. So what if his people skills are lacking and he's a jerk about labeling people losers? I could be in for all night long fun or torture depending on the Lionel Richie thing.

I don't know. Normally I'd think no. But, if I'm going to waste money on a date maybe wasting it on a guy with almost no potential for compatibility would be a healthier way to waste money. Like buying a lottery ticket or playing a slot machine. Except I don't do either so why would I gamble what little money I have on a very long shot date?

Well, because the other contender for my time and money is a guy who has also took the insult route in his bid for my affections.

Maybe this is a trend. Maybe this is something I've missed in my spotty dating career. Maybe there are women out there who respond favorably to being insulted. Maybe it’s completely normal for men to insult a woman they claim to want to meet and date. I realize manners have gone the way of the typewriter (only used by a few old fashioned, stubborn or quirky people). I realize being rude is the accepted behavioral norm. I am more surprised and bewildered when people are polite and mannerly than when they’re rude and inconsiderate. At least in the realm of every day life. What I didn’t realize and find confusing is rudeness and inconsideration in the realm of dating.

If a person is not interested in meeting or dating another person, a) why approach them and b) why bother to insult them? Why take and waste the time to send emails explaining all the reasons why they’re not interested in a person they found on an online dating site?

And if you think I’m making that up, guess again. One thing I haven’t mentioned is all the email I get from men, men who I have not contacted, by the way, men who are making the first move and contacting me, solely to tell me all the ways in which I am wrong and horrible and have no business being on an online dating site.

Yes. This is unsolicited and abusive. Yes. I forward some of the scarier and foul language laden emails to the site administrator. But most of them are not threatening (though I’ve had a few threats of physical violence. Seriously, there are some seriously bad people on dating sites. Hence the much needed and respected veil of anonymity.) Most of them are men who are mad at me for being, well, me. I’m not what they’re hoping to find on an online dating site so they don’t hesitate to tell me the mere presence of my profile on the dating site has offended, annoyed or bothered them. Actual quotes from email I’ve received from men over the past two years: “Who let you on here? I’m canceling my membership because I don’t want to be associated with women like you.” “Go back to the farm with the other pigs and cows.” “Women like you give online dating a bad name.” “No one’s that desperate, don’t waste any more money, cancel your membership.” And my so far all time favorite: “UR ugly and stoopid and ur profile is dum. Ur so NOT hot. I hate you.”

Yeah. Online dating is a lot of fun.

Actually, it is because you get to see the inside workings of a lot of mens’ minds. I can only conclude a lot of men are harboring Playboy-esque fantasies and are moved to violence and abuse when they realize they can’t fulfill those fantasies on an online dating site. Which is why I am very against sites like True which has not resorted to heavily marketing and selling the sex angle by using very hot young models with suggestive headlines luring in young boys and immature men who respond to those types of images. What these men don’t understand is that they’ve been duped by marketing. They’ve been suckered in by the oldest form of advertising. They fell for the oldest trick in the marketing book, splashed out their credit card and then blam! they looked at the actual women on the site and realized the girls in the ads were not actually posted in profiles. Then they take it out on the women who are not like the models in the ads. No. Not exactly mature and intelligent, but when it comes to dating and especially sex I’ve learned men can be really immature and stupid.

To be fair to a few men who have been led on and used by online dating sites there are a few really seedy sites who use fake profiles - good looking model photos and hot profiles - to lure in the above types of men. They tease them along, maybe even have one of the administrators send an email once in a while to keep up the interest, but they will never result in dates with the models in the photos. Just so we’re all clear that that happens on some sites. Yes. It hurts everyone which is why people need to be savvy and cautious and realistic when using these sites.

Still, I have a difficult time excusing the insulting and unsolicited comments from these men. I understand their frustration. Sort of, well, not really. I mean, come on, if they’re stupid enough to think they’re going to find comely women like the women in the True ads who want to do Jell-O shots and get freaky in the hot tub with them, well, then, harsh as it sounds, they’re stupid enough to need a lesson or two in reality.

If a guy can’t score with comely girls in real life he’s not going to do any better on online dating sites.

It’s just a fact.

A fact apparently a lot of men don’t understand or want to face. They’ve got the Jell-O shots ready and they want to get freaky with hot young bikini models in a hot tub. They’re frustrated. They’re little boys denied their candy. So they lash out at any woman who’s not what they want. Try to feed broccoli to a three-year-old who’s got sugar on the brain. Watch what happens. You’ll see that three-year-old respond exactly the way these men do: Pouting, screaming, kicking, crying tantrums.

Yes. I have achieved quite a level of understanding about all of this.

And in some ways I’m the same. I’m frustrated and annoyed by the whole process. The difference is I blame myself in most cases. I find and meet some really great guys but they’re not interested in me “that” way. I’m always too something. They find me to be too old, too young, too smart, too stupid, too sarcastic, too boring, too ugly, too tall, too professional, too nice, too (and I hate this one most) too good for them. Mainly, the men I meet who are interested in me are nothing but relationship disasters waiting to happen.

I’ve tried, you know, I’ve really tried, but it’s so obvious these guys and I are not right for each other. I can’t see us wasting time on dates which are never, ever lead to the kinds of relationships we want. And that’s frustrating for me. But it’s an age old situation. Finding the right person, that mutual thing, is really difficult. Other people make it look so easy, but it’s not. It was just complete, utter, dumb (and now I realize bad) luck that HWNMNBS and I met. There’s no formula, no plan, no easy way to make it happen. Online dating is potentially a good way to narrow the field a bit, but really, it’s all luck in the sense that it’s a right place, right time sort of thing.

I do not believe in fate or kismet. I reconsidered that opinion when I met HWNMNBS, I really did wonder if there was something to the whole fate thing. We just instantly got along so well and we seemed so right together that there was a “this is fate” feeling to it. But obviously now in hind sight if there was any fate involved it was only perilous fate. Hardly kismet and destiny. Unless of course my destiny is to be a jaded, confused, lonely spinster who was spurned by the only man she ever really loved. In which case I’m fulfilling my destiny quite nicely. All that’s left is to die alone with a bunch of cats.

Right. Creep #2.

Insulted me in his first email to me.

“Your [sic] not like the girls I date but I need someone mature to take to some work functions. Realistically this the best you can hope for. I don’t want a relationship but I’m a great catch. Good looking, inteligent, [sic] (I cannot tell you how hard I laughed when I saw that he misspelled intelligent) wealthy and well connected. You must be able to dress well and make polite and professional conversation with my clients. There will be no sex and you won’t be dating me but that will be our secret. You will have to be ready and willing to go out at a moments [sic] notice. I have photos I can send you so that you can see what a great deal this is for you if I choose you.”

Um. Yeah. Okay. Sign me up for that version of The Bachelor.Yet another example of reality television distorting peoples’ ideas of reality. He’s proposing that I be his business function concubine without sex, of course. Because I’m not like girls he dates. Girls who apparently cannot dress well and/or make polite and professional conversation and are immature.

The thing about this guy is that I partially understand his situation. I have work functions, too. Having a date not only makes them easier to stomach, but also acts as a reassuring visual for clients. Clients want to know they’re investing their money with someone who is capable of doing a great job. They want to put their money with someone who is normal and well adjusted. Being repeatedly seen alone or, apparently in this guy’s case, with badly dressed rude unprofessional women, is not reassuring for clients. Yes. This is so old school that it makes me cringe to even think about it. I had no idea this outmoded train of thought still existed. But, take it from one who’s been through this for a while. It makes a subtle difference. People perceive you differently. People assume there’s something really wrong with you when you never show up with a date or several bad ones. So when it comes time to get down to the business of business, in the back of their mind is that very subtle difference between you and your competition for the business. If the competition is a normal person with a normal girl/boyfriend/spouse, the subtle difference in perception of well adjustment can make a difference. It’s impossible to prove apart from what I’ve seen and heard.

So I understand his situation. He could be useful for me, too. If he agreed to by my date at work functions we could have a mutually rewarding partnership.

Rent a date.

But, I just, well, I mean, as much as I understand his situation and as much as I, too, have thought about resorting to a similar tactic, the “realistically the best I can hope for” line is so insulting and rude and just plain mean and unnecessary that I’m having difficulty getting past it. Not that I’m interested in him. His profile didn’t interest me. He’s a cliché “comfortable in jeans or tux” guy. The 10 photos he posted show an okay looking guy: In a tux, and jeans, and on a boat, and skiing, and in a hotel suite with NYC in the window in the background, and on several beaches, and oddly, eating in someone’s modest kitchen.

And he wants to send me more photos. Apparently he either thinks I need persuading or he really likes to show off photos of himself. I think we all know which is the case. Ego. Huge, stinking, gross ego.

Normally I’d delete. But, the “you never know who he might know” thing is nagging at me. And no, I don’t mean he might have a less narcissistic friend, but that going with him to his business functions might put me in front of people who could be useful in my career.

Yes. I am considering using him for his business connections. He would be my career networking concubine.

If you’re sitting there thinking, “Gosh Trill, that doesn’t really sound like you...” You’re right. It doesn’t. But. I really, really, really have to secure a new (and better paying) job and I need to do it very soon.

Obviously based on my stressful money related dream I’ve got financial problems which need resolving. Mr. Insult You, But Here Look at Me and How Wonderful I Am could be a way to make some different contacts than I usually have the opportunity to make. I can’t very well go around letting people, my clients, know that I’m so miserable at my job at my work functions.

But, at someone else’s work functions, under the guise of social intercourse, I might be able to get a fresh perspective on the job market.

Yes. I know. This sounds like the plot to a really bad movie.

But then, my entire life has been like the plot to a really bad movie.

So I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try to forget about the insults and give Mr. Insult You, But Here Look at Me and How Wonderful I Am a try. Waste a little money on meeting him, in this case a better bet because even though it won’t pay off in the relationship aspect, the career aspect has potentially good odds.

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3:26 PM

 
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