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 30, 2010
May Day. Mayday. Dancing around the May Pole and signaling for eminent disaster.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I'm skint, on the verge of foreclosure, cannot find a full time job so I'm training to be a telemarketer which has me brain dead, soul less and suicidal...
And eHarmony wants me to try them again, they've "changed" their criteria, they're willing to accept me, now, and they have several perfect men for me. Go figure. They're so sure they can find the perfect man for me they're giving me a two week free all access pass.
I can hardly wait to find out who the perfect matches are for a brain dead, soul less, unemployed woman who's about to become homeless.
Funny how eHarmony was so adamant about not accepting me, that I'm unmatchable, and now, suddenly, when the economy is awful and no one wants to spend money on dating sites, or, when us singles can't even contemplate dating because we lost our jobs and are either facing homelessness or relying on parents and friends to help us financially, eHarmony suddenly "changes" the parameters of their "complex matching system" to accommodate those of us who used fall outside their "rigorously defined profiles."
I may be brain dead. I may be almost homeless. I may be training to work in the scummiest form of marketing. But methinks me smells a desperate marketing ploy.
Have you noticed a uptick in Match.com ads, lately? Coincidence? I think not. People are not spending money on dating sites.
I'm okay being the Mayor of Singleton. I'd like to be less lonely, but I accept that I am not desirable to the opposite sex. I finally got it. Message heard loud and clear. But when I read that eHarmony wants me to try them again, I haven't so desperately longed to be in a good relationship in...years.
Why? Because I would love to fire back a huffy, self-righteous response telling them I don't need their stinking "complex matching system" because I found the perfect guy for me all on my own, without their help.
But I didn't.
Not only did I fail to find a man on my own, I also got laid off, am about to lose my home and I sold my soul to Satan and am in training to be one of his henchmen.
So, in fact, eHarmony had me pegged correctly the first time. And sad to say, since then the only changes in my life are for the worse, so unless they've really lowered their standards I'm pretty sure they still won't want me.
But I'm going to re-do their initial evaluation just to see how desperate they are for money, I mean members.
3:54 PM
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I found a few words.
Telemarketing is to the marketing industry as amateur pornography is to the film industry. Low budget, poorly lit, crappy equipment rented by the hour, shoddily and hastily made, and produced by sleazy low lifes looking to make a quick buck because they lack the vision, talent and skills to make it in the respected legit echelons of the industry.
6:48 PM
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Well, this sobered me right up...and makes me feel guilty about contemplating suicide. Universe, I hear you. I am not taking life lightly, okay? Really. I respect the value of breathing and I am sorry for mocking life.
A guy I've known since before kindergarten died. Just like that. Mowing his yard. Okay, we weren't particularly close, but we were friends. Our parents are friends, our dads golfed together and our moms do all that ladies church group stuff together.
When I was a kid and we returned after a few years abroad he was one of the few kids who remembered me and didn't treat me like a contagious freak.
He took the day off work and drove two hours to attend my dad's funeral.
And now he's dead.
And I'm all, "Okay, that's it! I'm closing down the condo, going into foreclosure, cashing in my air miles and taking what little money I have left to visit every corner of the globe I've ever wanted to see and then I'm going to visit all my far-flung friends and family. Life is too swutting short to not seize every stinking moment out of it."
Live like it's your last day and all that.
8:32 PM
