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/.
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.
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.)
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, April 16, 2010
Add this to the Things I Wish I Didn't Know file:
There are brass rings in telemarketing.
There are telesurveys, the sort of bottom rung. You call people and if they don't hang up on them you ask them to answer survey questions. If you can read and push a button you can do this job.
Telesales is a hot ticket job because at some companies you can earn a commission. It's a step up from telesurveying, although it can involve telesurveying, too. But the goal is to sell something. Over the phone. Have you ever bought anything from an unsolicited telemarketer who randomly calls you? Yeah, me either. Do you know anyone who has? Yeah, me either. Have you ever even listened to a telemarketer's sales schpeel? Yeah, me either. But for the very motivated sales person, "they" say there's good commission to be made with telesales jobs.
But the really big telemarketing money ($10+ per hour!) is in:
Bilingual telemarketing/telesales. If you are fluent in Spanish you can have an exciting career in telemarketing. $10+/hour and maybe even a full-time job! The telemarketing company dangles that $10 (+!) carrot as if it's a big stinking deal. And naturally they have suggestions as to how to learn Spanish, you can take lessons and they'll deduct the class fee from your paycheck. How convenient. I noticed a lot of people were taking the pamphlet on English classes. Apparently Spanish speaking telemarketers get the bilingual $10+ carrot dangled in front of them, too. Bilingual telemarketers are in high demand.
I know a teeeny tiny bit of Spanish, not enough to be conversational in a sales and marketing capacity, though. And I enjoy languages and learning them but...somehow learning to speak Spanish for the purpose of furthering my career ($10 (+!)/hour) in telemarketing isn't exactly motivating me.
Remind me again why I'm bothering with life. Please. Remind me what the point is. I've completely lost the plot.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Oh lucky me! Finally, things are turning around for me!
In one day I got not one, but two job offers!
Even better, they're both part time so I can do both!
One involves manual labor and the other involves entering a few circles of Hell (I'm trying to work out which, I think 7 and 8, though I think I'll pass through 4 and 5.)
My friend's sister-in-law has a landscaping business. It's spring. I know you're thinking, "hmmmm, I've don't recall Trillian ever mentioning gardening or yardwork as things she enjoys or would like to spend more time doing..." And you're right. I'm not in any way qualified for landscaping, however, I'm tall and I have long arms. What, you may wonder, is the connection between landscaping and long arms? They have a lot of calls for gutter cleaning. They need someone who can climb a ladder and clear out gutters. Long arms are a big plus in this endeavor. Finally! A job I'm innately qualified to do! Rock on! Except for the climbing ladders part. I'm not exactly sure-footed these days so I'm a little concerned about the safety factors involved with me and my injured foot climbing a ladder. I'm going to make a few practice/test climbs this afternoon. Woo hoo! A job! Cleaning gutters! (Insert joke of your choice about how we all knew I'd end up in a gutter someday.)
Now for the really exciting job opportunity.
Telemarketing!
I know, I know. I have staunchly held firm to my conviction that I would kill myself before I even contemplated a telemarketing job. But. It's the only job offer I've had since being laid off and even though it's only part time and it's only $9/hour and it won't pay my mortgage or provide any benefits, health or otherwise, it's a job. If I do well in the telesurvey area I can advance to the telesales area, that's where the big bucks are, commission!
Yes. A job in the Seventh Circle of Hell (with opportunity for advancement into the Eighth Circle of Hell) is not exactly the career opportunity I need, but, what else am I going to do? Anyone have any better ideas or viable job leads? Yeah. Didn't think so.
So my bright future is now in cleaning gutters (assuming I can safely navigate a ladder) and telemarketing.
I'm publicly apologizing in advance for the pain and suffering and anger I will inflict on innocent people in my telemarketing endeavors. If I weren't desperate I would never, ever do it and I'm honestly considering the pros and cons of suicide v. telemarketing. So far they're equal. I'm thinking telemarketing = suicide. So if I call you and you have an urge to angrily give me a snarky response please keep in mind that I hate it as much as you do and I'm doing this because it's my career choice. I'm doing this because there are very few "real" jobs and thousands of great candidates for those "real" jobs. And I'm desperate and scared and depressed and suicidal. And a telemarketing job is only going to exacerbate those issues. Don't yell at me, just hang up on me. Deal?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
So, during my trip to the Out Limits last week my eyes were sprayed with some sort of optical Novocaine and dilated almost to max capacity. I suppose the maximum clearance is required so that a sharp, plastic pointy stick can be thrust into them. Then some sort of gooey gel goop was slathered over them, lubing things up under my eyelids so the enormous lens things could be inserted under my eyelids (upper and lower), basically KY for eyes. Obviously I couldn't see for several hours afterward. Obviously there was pain after the Novocaine wore off. Obviously things in the old optical region were a bit stirred up and sensitive and it will take a while for them to recover.
But here's something weird. I think. Um. I'm grateful I don't have Glaucoma, really. And I assume that for $950 if something was "happening" to the irises that were studied the doctor would have told me. So I'm not, you know, like freaking out or anything, but...um...just wondering...is it, erm, normal for the ring of blue around the outside of my iris to grow from ~1/32" to ~1/4", encroaching toward the pupil and almost obliterating the green part of my iris? I think it's slowly, really slowly, receding back to its usual outline size, but, um, that really huge band of blue around a small field of green with gold flecks is sort of disturbing looking, sort of alien life form-ish. Someone asked me if I was wearing those patterned contact lenses. So it's not just me who thinks things look a little, um, off with my irises.
Anyone else ever had this happen after an eye exam?
3:27 PM
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Six disturbingly gross tests and $950 later...I don't have Glaucoma!
Woo hoo!!
Except. I have almost every symptom of Glaucoma.
Whoa hoo.
But I don't have Glaucoma! My optic nerve is healthy!
Woo hoo!
But now I have to wear glasses to correct my oversized irises and thick cornea from straining and causing excessive pressure on my healthy optic nerve. If I understood any of this I'd be happy to explain it, but I don't understand it so I can't really explain it but it doesn't really matter because I don't have Glaucoma.
But I'm "supposed" to go every six months for these hideous (and expensive) exams for Glaucoma wherein a sharp, pointy object is thrust into my eyes; a huge lens is inserted under my eyelids and I have to sit in what looks like a video game arcade from 2001: A Space Odyssey and click a little clicker thing every time I see a flash of light. All that for just $950 a pop. Even though I don't have Glaucoma. If I understood any of it I'd explain but I don't so yeah, I dunno.
I do know that I have been having horrific nightmares about a) sharp pointy things being jabbed into my eyes, and b) going blind. You know, like a particularly freaky episode of Night Gallery.
You know what bugs me about all this? I've never, ever taken my eyesight for granted. I'm not one of those people who doesn't realize how precious the gift of sight is. I am grateful for my vision, even when I see sad, disturbing, upsetting things, I am grateful for my eyesight. I don't, you know, pray, but, I do give thanks, daily, I am grateful. I do appreciate what I do have. Really. I do. And on that list of daily thanks is deep gratitude for my eyesight. Obviously I appreciate and care about my eyesight, I caved in and took the money my mother gave me for the $950 eye exams, and I am going to buy the two pair of glasses the eye doctor wants me to wear in hopes of reducing the strain on my optic nerve.
But then there's the whole injustice thing and I know it's a slippery slope and I try to not go near it, but...we all know a guy who takes his vision for granted and will live to be 100 years old using his eyesight for ogling centerfolds of 20-year-old naked girls airbrushed to media perfection - his idea of beauty. Meanwhile, people like me, who see the beauty of rain and a scruffy mutt and notice small things like interestingly shaped pebbles and the variations of color in the sky, people who notice and appreciate stuff like that, we're the ones who have Glaucoma scares and live with the threat of going blind.
How is that just? It's not. And it's silly and ignorant to think in those terms. I know that. But. Sheesh.
And.
I don't have Glaucoma, yet, and that's what I'm focusing on: more gratitude, heaps of gratitude that I'm not facing a $300/month eye drop requirement or blindness.
Okay. Now. I've endured many of the top life stressors in a short span of time. Death of a parent. Job loss. Financial trouble. Foreclosure. Serious health scare and related expenses. And let's not even open the relationship/sexual stressors chapter. So. Okay, Universe, enough already. Enough. Even I have a breaking point and I've reached it. So. Call off your stress henchmen and leave me alone.
There. Done. Message to the Universe sent.
11:28 AM
