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<




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
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or Search by State

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or Search by State

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

 
Saturday, December 30, 2006  
Happy 2007.

Because you're all so swell I've decided I'm way overdue in giving you all a well deserved present. But. See. Erm. The thing is. Okay, look, we all know I'm beyond broke and in financial ruins. So I can't afford to give you all the kind of swell gifts you deserve. I just don't have that kind of money or credit.

However.

I do have an extensive and diverse music collection.

And I'm in an ongoing process of converting, loading, organizing and editing that collection. So my online music library just keeps getting bigger and more diverse.

So my gift to you is music.

And no, it's not going to be all Pixies all the time. I've got a really huge and broad collection of music. And no, by broad and huge I don't mean Pixies, Breeders, Detroit Cobras, Pretenders and Prince. I mean huger and broader than you probably thought old Trill had in her. Sure, I love rock and roll, yeah, sure, I do. No secret there. But. I love a lot of other music, too. So if you're thinking, "Gee, Trill, thanks for sharing and everything, but I'm not really into the kind of music you're into," you might want to periodically stop in and see what's in the queue. You'll probably hate some of the songs, love some of them and be indifferent about a lot of them.

So, from my iPod to your ears, years of collecting and amassing a huge range of music is at your disposal.

I've got a 4shared account and will load songs into a shared folder there. Anyone can listen to a song in that folder. If you like it, it's yours for the downloading.

Just click on the link which says "Today on Trillian's Pod..." (under the Pod photo, yes, new and improved graphics for the new year!)
The link will take you to 4shared.
Roll over the box with the MP3 icon in it.
A play arrow will appear in the lower left corner of that graphic box.
Double click the arrow.
The song will begin playing.
Explore the page a bit and you will find some other features you might find interesting, especially if you like the song and want to add it to your library. You will also find a comments area. I'll try to leave a comment or two there about the song, feel free to tell the world how much you hate or love the song and what you think about my taste in music, anything you want, but let's keep it on topic, okay? Focus the comments on the song, artist or at least music. No fighting in the War Room! We've had a lot of comment problems in the past so this feature will be eliminated if there's one abusive word or argument directed at a commenter other than me. I have a zero tolerance policy regarding abuse to my readers. If you can't play nice you can't play at all. Feel free to abuse me, I'm asking for it, begging for it, actually, by posting my musical taste for the whole world to hear. So I deserve any criticism for that. But other innocent readers and listeners do not. Clear? Understood? No fighting in the War Room. Period.

Clicking on the Pod photo (not the "Today on Trillian's Pod" link) will take you to the main Trillian Tunes folder where several songs reside. Go there if you want to browse the current offerings, deeper cuts and past weeks' tunes.

FAQ
Is this legal?
Yes. And no. Listening to a file is not illegal. Downloading it, well, that's a gray area. It's up to you and your personal feelings on morals, ethics and the recording industry.
Will I be fined, arrested or hanged for this?
No.
Will Trillian be fined, arrested or hanged for this?
Maybe.
Is this blatant disrespect for recording artists and copyright laws?
Yes. But. It's also exposing artists and songs to people who might then go forth and purchase more music by the artist. So really, it's just marketing and they should be paying me for the endorsement.

8:26 AM

Friday, December 29, 2006  
I had an undate. Yes. It’s come to this. An undate. I thought it was going to be a date but it wasn't. It was, well, I'm not sure what it was but I am sure it wasn't a date.

When you think you can’t sink any lower, someone comes along to prove to you that there are depths of humility and depression yet to explore.

There was this guy I met last Summer. I liked him. A lot. He didn’t like me. Or rather, he liked me, he didn’t like the way I look. He had a whole list of complaints regarding my looks. He was disappointed because he “really thought I was the woman he’d been trying to find for many years.” Personality-wise he said I was perfect. But he couldn’t tolerate my looks. He thought I was too tall for him. And he prefers blue eyes. And blondes. And younger women, girls. He was short. Fat. Older. And bald. By the way. He said I am so tall it made him feel small and whimpy. I made him feel small and whimpy? He is small and whimpy. Those facts have nothing to do with me. But my height accentuates his shortcomings. Please note: I didn’t have a problem with him being short, fat and bald. I liked him. I liked his sense of humor, his intelligence, his spirit of adventure, his eyes, his hands…

Right. So. Not a good match. I took the high road and wished him well. Because, you know, I liked him and I did wish him well. I honestly hoped he found what he was looking for in a woman and life.

Months passed. Many months. I didn’t hear from him. Then I got an email. A holiday-ish email. He wished me happy holidays and hoped I was doing well, said he missed me and wished things had worked out between us because he didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone who could make him think and laugh and “feel good” the way I did.

No. I did not think ‘Hmmmmmm” at this juncture. Men do this to me. They email or call for the sole purpose of telling me how terrific I am and that they wish I was just a little better and different because I am as close to perfect as they’ve ever met. But they don’t do this as a precursor to try to start something romantic. In all the years and all the times this has happened to me I cannot figure out why they actually do it. I think it’s a bout of melancholy and loneliness and longing and they reach out to me because they always got an understanding and sympathetic ear from me. I think they’re in a “misery loves company” mood and they call their ol’ pal Trillian, their agony aunt, to wax wistfully about how I was close but not quite right.

I have no idea why anyone would do this.

I have theories.

They’ve been rejected, their ego is bruised and they want to boost their self-esteem, so they call a woman they rejected to remind themselves that they are too good for at least one other person, so good they had to reject them and leave them hurt and disappointed. It’s a sort of emotional transference and ego boost all rolled into one phone call or email.

Or they’re just insensitive, selfish people who like to rub salt in wounds.

So when I received this email I thought, “Again? Again, Universe? Again you send me this weird dragging up of past hurts and rejection?”

And I didn’t respond. I hit delete and thought good-bye to old garbage.

And a few days later he emailed again, at a different email address, saying that since I didn’t respond to the first email I must not be using that email address anymore so he sent it to another account.

This time I responded.

I said, “Or, the possibility exists that I didn’t respond to your first email because I didn’t feel any need or desire to respond to you. You rejected, insulted and hurt me, remember? You said good-bye and that’s it. Our ships passed and went on their courses leaving each other in the wake.”

He instantly responded saying, “I’m sorry you feel that way. I really liked you a lot. I was actually kind of hoping we could get together next week.”

Oh.

I see.

Well.

Okay.

That’s a new twist to this old routine. I’ve never had a guy call or send that kind of email and actually want to see me again. Well. Apart from HWNMNBS but that whole thing defies any earthly logic or psychology so it doesn’t count. And history proved that he never really wanted to see me in terms of getting back together anyway, so, in a way, yes, it does count. But me falling for it doesn’t count because, well, I’m stupid and blind when it comes to him. Hey. We all have our fatal flaws.

So I’m a little naïve regarding this sort of thing. The constant rejection, insults, hurt and in some cases hostility these calls and emails often bring have left me numb and expectant of the worst. The possibility of a man wanting to see me again never enters my realm of consciousness because it never enters my realm of reality.

These guys simply call or email to tell me how terrific I am, how awful I am and what a shame it is things couldn’t be different between us and away they go.

They never want to see me again. They’re not testing the water to see if I’m still available and interested.

They’re hoping to learn that they left me devastated and in therapy over their rejection. They need an ego boost. And they generally don’t get one from me. Most men don’t know that I’ve had this happen so often that I’m wise and immune to their out of the blue calls or email. Most men don’t know that I have one and only one weak spot in this situation and that spot has been filled by someone I truly love and care about. That spot is filled by someone I had an actual relationship with, someone worthy of the heartache and emotional turmoil the out of the blue calls and email can conjure. There is no room for interest or concern for anyone else in this situation. Yeah. They have no idea who they’re dealing with here.

But. Well. This new old guy, well, I did like him.

So after a little hemming and hawing I responded and agreed to see him again.

Oh Trill, you silly, silly, silly stupid woman.

You know better than to take anyone at face value. You know better than to think a man might be interested in you.

But. I mean. You know. He said he liked me a lot and wanted to see me again. For other women, normal women, that translates to, “I’m stupid and I messed up, I never should have rejected, insulted and hurt you. You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me. I want to see you again. Please forgive me and give me one more chance, let me prove to you that I am worthy of and ready for your affections which will be met and doubled in return.”

If a normal woman agrees to the see-again, they know it’s a date and they know they’ve got the guy eating out of their hand.

But as we all know, I am not a normal woman and people do not treat me normally or behave normally with me. And yes, yes, I had this going through the back of my mind when I agreed to see him, but I was trying to be optimistic and hopeful, you know, the season of wonder and all that crap. I was trying, okay? I was trying. Everyone tells me I have to keep trying, I can’t give up, I have to try. So I did.

I thought I did a pretty good job at getting casually dolled up. I thought I was sending the right mix of open but wary and easy there, boy, not so fast signals. I thought I was in a good emotional place about the whole thing.

No expectations, but open to possibility.

He was happy to see me, he even brought me a present. A photo of us on a date.

Wow, I thought, wow. He saved that? Wow. Okay, maybe this wasn’t as out of the blue as it seemed. Maybe he’s been pining away wondering how to get back in my good graces after what he said and how he treated me.

Or maybe he just wanted to brag about his new fiancée, their trip to Spain and the new condo they’re buying in my neighborhood. Since he’ll be living just a few blocks away he thought we’d probably be running into each other and didn’t see any reason why we can’t all be great friends because the girl he met after me is just terrific, he knows we’d get along great, and, oh, look, here’s a photo of them on that trip to Spain and another one of them in their new condo.

He took great pains to point out all of his fiancée’s lovely physical features. Petite, a size two!, a natural blonde, bright blue eyes, and several inches shorter and several years younger than him. He didn’t mention anything about her personality or intelligence or career. But she’s just terrific, just a terrific girl. He’s never been happier in his life and can’t believe how lucky he is, how things just keep getting better and better, all starting a few days after he rejected me! What a coincidence!

Get this, he thinks I’m a good luck charm. Getting rid of me brought him her! He was feeling upset about hurting me and went to a party and had a little too much to drink. Miss Terrific was there and, well, the next thing you know they’re off to Spain, engaged and buying a condo together! If he had still been with me none of that would have happened.

Yes. That’s exactly what he said.

Now. When I said I wished him well and hoped good things for him, I meant it. And yes, I really am happy for him. His enthusiasm and excitement are obvious. Yay him!

But.

Um.

Yeah.

Did I really need to know this?

Did I really need to know the details?

Or see the photographs?

No.

I did not.

Yes. I was disappointed. And hurt. Which makes me really mad. I let this man hurt and anger me twice.

Maybe if it hadn't come on the heels of holiday cards full of adorable new babies, spouses, new homes, and great successes my friends and family acquired last year. Maybe if I hadn't spent the day hearing about all the great gifts people at work received from their spouses and boyfriends. (An engagement ring! Trips to exotic places! A new car! Just like all the ads on TV!) Maybe if I hadn't been the only single person at the family Christmas dinner table. Maybe if things were just some tiny way different. Maybe then it wouldn't have gotten to me the way it did.

The worst part of this is how stupid I felt, and feel, about thinking maybe he wanted to see me again.

So here’s a lesson, guys, and women, too, when someone you’ve rejected tells you they wish you well and hope you find what you’re looking for, they probably mean it sincerely. But. They’re being good sports and taking the high road, putting your feelings ahead of theirs and letting you off the hook really easy. They could fuss and carry on and stalk and harass you and otherwise turn into the psycho ex-date from Hell. But they don’t. They like you, respect you and your feelings and tell you they wish you well and hope things go well for you. And then they leave you alone. They don’t tell you how upset and hurt they are that things didn’t work out between you. They don’t tell you how deeply wounded they are by the insults you hurled at them or how badly the rejection stings or what a surprise it was because they thought things were going okay. They don’t tell you these things because they’re mature, caring people and know their emotions are theirs to deal with and no longer have anything to do with you. The best and really the only thing to do is be polite and nice and wish them well. Leave a good last impression. Grace. Dignity. Tact. That sort of thing.

You rejected them. This hurt them, either a little or a lot. Respect their feelings. When they said they wished you well and hoped you found what you were looking for they didn’t mean, “…and let me know when you do, in fact tell me all the details and show me photographs of how terrific your life is since you dumped me.”

They were trying to bring some dignity to a miserable situation. They were trying to rise above their feelings of sorrow, anger, betrayal, rejection and whatever else may have happened and leave a good last impression. They were trying to paint a positive face on a bad situation.

Don’t insult them by then bragging about how great things have been for you since then. It's not that they don't care about your great new life, but, well, they don't care. Or they care, but, the care comes with feelings of, "it could have been me sharing this with them, but it's not because they didn't want me. They wanted this new person instead."

If anyone gets to brag or gloat in this situation, it’s the person who was rejected. But even then I take a dim view of that. I have tried to imagine myself behaving this way toward anyone who has rejected me and I can’t get a mental picture of it. Probably because I can’t find a valid reason why I would do this. Maybe if things in my life were to ever go well, a new and better job, a home, heck, even a car, or, gasp, an actual solid relationship, I might understand or feel the need to gloat to a past love interest. But I don’t think so. I think I’d be pretty darned happy just enjoying those new and better things. I don’t think I’d feel a need for validation from someone who didn’t want me. And I don’t think I’d need the vindication of bragging and gloating over someone who rejected me. I could be wrong about that but lucky for me and past male interests my life is going backwards, getting worse instead of better. So it’s doubtful that I’ll get the chance to understand what “success” feels like, or the desire to show it off to former men of interest. So now I’m trying spin this whole thing in a positive light: I have been given the chance to vicariously feel the need to brag and gloat. This former man of interest let me peek into the window of success and the need to show it off to someone they rejected. And I don’t like what I see.

A good lesson learned, albeit one I didn’t really need to learn. But hey, better than sitting home with the dying cat, right?

Yep, that’s what he said to me when we said good-bye. He said, “Now that we’re neighbors we should all go out together!”

I said, “No, thanks anyway. I’m sure you’ll be busy with your new place and I’m sure Miss Terrific will keep your social calendar full.”

“Aw, c’mon Trill, you should go out with us sometime. It’s better than sitting home with a dying cat.”

And for the record, never, at any time, did I indicate that I wasn’t getting out and doing things. For all he knows I'm in a terrific relationship, traveling the world, wildly successful in a new job, and just party, party, party every night. Never, not once, did I indicate that since he rejected me I’ve been sitting home every night with my cat. I'm not, but even if I am or even if I did indicate that was the case, so what?! My cat is dying and what’s wrong with wanting to spend time with him?! But who is he to presume I haven’t met anyone and don’t go out? How dare he? It’s double insulting. Which is the only reason why I can figure he got in touch with me. Maybe he’s feeling insecure with new Miss Terrific Hottie McBody and wanted the ego boost. Maybe he’s just a jerk. Either way I’m a zillion times better off without him in my life.

But.

Still.

I feel absolutely idiotic for thinking, even for a few minutes, that he wanted to see me again. Especially when compared to the photos of his fiancée. I mean, of course at the time I was thinking he wanted to see me again I didn’t know about the fiancée or the trip to Spain or engagement or condo or his ego. If he’d mentioned just one of those things I wouldn’t have agreed to see him again. But he didn’t. And I’m curious why. Why coyly pursue me via email, tell me he wished things had ended differently and that he'd never meet anyone who could make him think and laugh and “feel good” the way I did? Why wait for the un-date to spring the "news" on me?

I have theories, of course. He’s right, we’ll probably see each other in the ‘hood. Probably better to get that out in the open rather than leaving it to a chance surprise encounter. But. He could have just said that in the first email. It didn’t require an un-date. He might be feeling nervous about the looming wedding and new home together and wanting to convince himself he’s doing the right thing. He may have thought seeing me would cement his feelings for her.

Nice. Glad to help with that.

No. I’m not letting this consume me. Too much. But. There are lessons to be learned.

Here they are:

Don’t do this to someone. It’s unnecessary and hurtful.

1:05 PM

 
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