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

 
Saturday, February 12, 2011  
My friend has a big romantic Valentine's weekend surprise lined up for her unsuspecting(!) husband. She made a list of all the pivotal moments of their relationship. Their lives prior to meeting each other. How they met. Their courtship. Their marriage proposal. Their engagement. (Yep, proposal and engagement are two separate, distinct phases.) Their wedding. Their honeymoon. (Yep, again, two distinct phases.) Their newlywed year and first home. (One phase, apparently.) Their dog. Their first pregnancy. Their first childbirth and her quitting her career. Their first house in the suburbs. Their second pregnancy. Their move to their second home in another suburb. Their vacations. (Yep, plural.) Their "oh-god-his-new-assistant-at-work-is-24-and-smokin'-hot." Probably no coincidence the most recent phase of their relationship coinciding with Valentine's Day resulted in her big weekend surprise.

A movie marathon! She chose a movie she felt best represented each pivotal moment in their relationship. Yes. 16 movies. In one weekend. 13 romantic comedies and 3 dramas.  Each correlating to a pivotal moment in their relationship.

Okay. I'm single. The Mayor of Singleton. I mean, I'm reallllllllllly single. I don't even think about men or dating or kisses or sex or relationships or, and especially, not romance.

So my take on this is probably very skewed and probably very irrelevant.

But.

I felt a deep, deep moral need to warn my friend's husband about what was really going to happen this weekend while the kids were at his parents'. I felt he should know that in his wife's language "romantic surprise" translates to 16 movies representing their life together. Most of them featuring Meg Ryan, Reese Witherspoon or Renée Zellweger and Hugh Grant. In other words, all of them chick flicks, none of them porn.

I'm single. The Mayor of Singleton. I mean, I'm reallllllllllly single. I don't even think about men or dating or kisses or sex or relationships or, and especially, not romance.

So my take on this is probably very skewed and probably very irrelevant.


But.

I'm reasonably certain a married man with two children living in the suburbs who has a very hot  24-year-old assistant at work doesn't consider a "romantic weekend without the kids" as three days watching his wife's imagined versions of their life acted out in chick flicks. I could be very wrong about this because I'm very single and clearly I know nothing about marriage or men.

But.

I'm reasonably certain a married man with two children living in the suburbs who has a very hot 24-year-old assistant at work thinks a "romantic weekend without the kids" includes "sexy" lingerie ("sexy" in this case means low-rent slutty: lacy, leather/vinyl (or both), itchy and crotchless), porn (including the girl-on-girl stuff) and something from the four basic romantic food groups: something fried, something beer, something pizza, something chip.


Okay. I'm single. The Mayor of Singleton. I mean, I'm reallllllllllly single. I don't even think about men or dating or kisses or sex or relationships or, and especially, not romance.


So my take on this is probably very skewed and probably very irrelevant.


But.

I'm reasonably certain that to a married man with two children living in the suburbs who has a very hot, 24-year-old assistant the only thing worse than a 16 relationship movie marathon would be the opening weekend Saturday afternoon 2-for-1 matinée of the Justin Bieber "documentary."


I tried to warn my friend that her big romantic surprise for her husband might not be met as enthusiastically as she anticipated.

"The thing is, [friend], this is what you want for Valentine's Day. This is what you want him to do for you. You want him to prove his love and respect for your relationship via film portrayals. This is your dream romantic weekend. This is a gift for yourself, not really for him. This might not be what he's expecting for your romantic weekend surprise that requires sending the kids to his parents'."

I crossed a line. She was hurt. Defensive. She expected me to enthuse over her creativity and stand in awe, humbled by her romantic genius. But all I could see was her husband, standing there holding a bottle of champagne and some expensive chocolates expecting slutty lingerie and porn and instead being met with raspberry scones, the cozy movie blanket from the den and 16 chick flicks queued up.

And yes, my allegiance should be to my friend, not her husband. But. In my defense, I was thinking of her. I was trying to spare her the disappointment she'd feel after oh, I dunno, three movies into the marathon when her husband either fell asleep or started Blackberrying for work.

But of course she had to play her winning hand. Married always trumps single. Every game, every time.

"You don't know anything about men. You don't know anything about marriage. Did you ever think maybe this is why your relationships all failed and why no one is interested in you and why you're single? And childless. And unemployed. And moving home with your mother. Huh? Did you ever just once stop to think maybe you have it all wrong, that you don't know anything about men or dating or romance and that's why you're a miserable failure?"

Oh yes she did.

She went there.

And yes, in her eyes, in her world, everything hinges on romantic success. When we were single she always had a boyfriend and at least one or two waiting in the wings. Yes, I knew her when she was unmarried, but I've never known her without a boyfriend. Her motto has always been, "a good man is the best and only accessory a girl needs."

Obviously I have not, and do not, ascribe to her motto. I don't have a motto, but, I think one of the best, if not the only accessory a girl needs is an IQ higher than 124.

But.

I'm single. The Mayor of Singleton. I mean, I'm reallllllllllly single. I don't even think about men or dating or kisses or sex or relationships or, and especially, not romance.

So my take on this is probably very skewed and probably very irrelevant.


And probably very wrong.


I haven't seen much of this friend for a while. We've only recently been in semi-regular contact because I've been seeing more of a mutual friend who lives in the same general suburban direction as her. Suffice it to say we won't be socializing much in the future.

I have tough skin. I've heard everything she accused me of, heck, I've thought it myself. Nothing new there. It's impossible to offend me in any way that I haven't already been offended. She has to dig a lot deeper than that if she wants to really upset me.


But her anger at me, well, you know, that's a bit much. And her complete lack of sense of humor is a turn off to me. And her inability to see from a perspective other than hers is sort of wearying. Now I remember why our friendship faded.


I'm willing to look at my "situation" from other perspectives, in fact that's pretty much all I do, especially these days. I'll take any and all advice. I welcome it.

But. Should I take dating/man advice from a woman whose idea of a romantic surprise for her husband is a movie marathon of 16 chick flicks? Seems counter-intuitive to me.

But.

I'm single. The Mayor of Singleton. I mean, I'm reallllllllllly single. I don't even think about men or dating or kisses or sex or relationships or, and especially, not romance.

So my take on this is probably very skewed and probably very irrelevant.
 


Our mutual friend heard about the "incident." She showed up early for our metallurgy class so we could "discuss" the "incident."

"You know, Trill, her delivery was all wrong and she has some really messed up ideas about love and life in general. We've always known that. But maybe there's a grain of truth in her message. Maybe you're not, you know, romantic enough. Maybe the few remaining men out there are looking for someone who's a little girlier, a little more romantic than you appear to be."

"I'm romantic."

"I know you are. But I've known you a long time and I know you. I know you're one of the most romantic, sentimental, even sappy people on the planet. But. You're also capable and usually you give the appearance of emotional stability. You don't look like you need a man. And you like hockey and guitars."

"I give the appearance of being a lesbian."

"I didn't say that. Lots of women who aren't lesbians like hockey and metal. I like hockey and metal. It's just, you know, we're not kids, Trill. There aren't many available men out there. Maybe you can't just be you anymore. Maybe you need to play the game, now, at least to initially attract a man."

"We've been having this same conversation for way too many years. I know what I'm supposed to do. I need to be more what men expect, more cliché girl. I'm supposed to play needy and silly, incapable of changing a lightbulb. I'm supposed to be afraid of spiders and not understand how cars work. I'm supposed to pretend I know absolutely nothing about anything remotely scientific and I should never, ever watch NOVA, or at least not openly admit it. It's only okay to talk about accessible art and music - Impressionism and top 40. Knowledge or interest in anything controversial or 'weird' or loud is taboo. I'm supposed to make men feel manly and needed for manly things and in order to do that I have to seem incapable, silly and scared."

"See? You do know the drill."

 "Do you think [our friend's] husband will be thrilled about the 16 movie marathon of chick flicks?"

"Of course not."

"How would your husband respond?"

"With divorce papers."

"Exactly. So, if you told her what I said to her it would be valid advice. But because I said it, because I'm a spinster, my reaction and concerns for her are not valid, and further, I'm deserving of ridicule and insult?"

"I know. I know. We know she's nuts. But. That's not the point. The point is that there might be a shred of validity to her rant."

"I should be more girly. Ruffles. Lace. Pink. Ditsy. Stupid. Incapable."

"Well, I mean, you know, you're 5'11". The ruffles and lace are probably not the best choices for you. And I think you're physically and mentally incapable of ditz. But. You know, Trill, you get stuck in the Friend Zone a lot. Guys adore you but they don't love you, you know, romantically."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I know."

"Why do you think that is, Trill?"

"Because I'm too much woman for them and I intimidate them and so, heartbroken in their abyss of unrequited love for me they're happy to be just friends, protecting their fragile little hearts from being broken?"

"Yeah. I'm sure that's it. Maybe you should spend the weekend recharging your girly batteries. Maybe you should watch 16 chick flicks."

"Yeah, Meg Ryan and Hugh Grant are exactly what I need. I'll emerge all soft and gooey and girly and at least 20 IQ points lower."

"Point taken, but c'mon, Trill, maybe at least try to play the game? Try to be girly?"

"A more appropriate weekend for me would be a Twilight Zone marathon."



Then we went to our class.

And one of our younger classmates was enthusing about her singles-only Valentine's party. Apparently he has lots of single friends. They're going to have a huge anti-Valentine's Day party and celebrate their singleness.

I remember those days. I used to have lots of single friends, too. We all liked being single. And then they all got married. And now it's a party of one.

Because the only single friends I have are: Lesbians and gay men who can't or don't want to get married; and men who have deep rooted commitment issues and will never get married. I have no single girl friends. Not one. And, heck, even one of my commitment-phobe male friends got married last year.

My friend said to our classmate, "Oh! We used to do that! Didn't we Trill?! You should go to her party for singles, Trill!"

Yes. My friend invited me to our classmate's party.

Our classmate was clearly stymied, feeling awkward, "Um, yeah, divorced people are technically single. Most of my friends are around my age, but sure, stop by if you want."

My friend came to my "defense." "Oh, she's not the one thinking about a divorce, and I'm only thinking about a separation, and things are a lot better. We're not getting divorced. And Trillian's not divorced, she's never been married. (grabbing my hand and pointing to my ring finger) She's as single as single can be!"

Our young classmate, clearly feeling even more awkward, just went with it. When things are already awkward why not just say everything you think, because things are already awkward. "You've never been married? You're not divorced? Gawd. Why?!"

Oh yes. She did. She stood there, almost accusatory, mouth agape, gawking at the spinster. And then another even younger classmate joined in. "Wow. You know, my mom has a friend like you."

Yes. She said "like you." Yes. "Like you." As if I'm an exhibit at an endangered species zoo. Or, more accurately, as if I'm like one of the people on the copies of fliers of wanted criminals at the post office. Dangerous. Do not apprehend.

You're probably thinking I'm overreacting, maybe a bit too sensitive. But then another classmate, who is always talking about her husband, and someone who I've befriended and quite like, said, thinking she was coming to my defense, answered for me. "Not everyone is in a rush to get married. I only got married a few years ago. Some of us have other priorities. Travel, careers, lives apart from hunting for a man."

Ahhhhh. A voice of reason. I knew I liked this woman.

And then our younger classmates chimed back at her, "We have all those things. We can have men, too. It's not either/or."

My "recently" married classmate and I shared a knowing smile. Ah, youth.

Suffice it to say I am a) alienated from several of my classmates, b) not attending the singles-only anti-Valentine's Day party and c) watching a Twilight Zone marathon all weekend. Alone. Again. Always.

But.

At least I'm not trapped in the suburbs watching 16 chick flicks.

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4:25 PM

 
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