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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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

 
Monday, February 20, 2012  
The more I learn, the less I know. I've felt that way a long time, but especially the last couple years. Over the past two and a half years I have gone to more companies and talked to more people about jobs and office environments than I have in my lifetime. And that's saying a lot since my previous jobs required me to meet and talk to a lot of clients.

The usual chain of events I've experience in job applications is:
Hear about an opening/opportunity.
Talk to somebody in HR or someone you know at the company; or
Apply.
Phone interview with HR or the hiring manager or their designee.
In-person interview with HR and/or the person who will be your manager.
A second interview with the people who will work for you or with you.
A third interview with the hiring manager and a bunch of people who work in other departments.
Rejection email.
I haven't gotten past this phase, yet, but I'm told it's where an offer is made.

I am fortunate, a lot more fortunate than other people in my situation. I'm getting interviews. There are companies interested in me. And from what I've learned, HR people seem to really like me. I've had a couple HR managers apologize to me for "the lengthy process" that didn't end in an offer. "I feel you're the strongest candidate, but the manager of the department is looking for a specific personality dynamic..." that isn't me.

I get rejection emails daily. Why? Because I apply to every and any job I hear about. I typically apply to four - five jobs/day. Many of them are long shots - I'm way overqualified or not "right" qualified - but I apply anyway an spin my experience to the job requirements. So I'm not surprised when I'm rejected for those jobs, and it's not surprising that I receive several rejection emails a day. They're proportional to my number of applications. If you apply to 40 jobs per week, you're probably going to receive at least 10 or 15 rejections per week.

But let's talk about the successful applications, the ones that result in an interview. Like I said, I'm fortunate to have been offered interview opportunities. I've gone on at least two/month over the past two years. That's a lot of interviews. And a lot of rejections. It was obvious at many of them that it was a numbers game for HR. They were bringing in several candidates to justify their own role in the company. "See?! I'm bringing people in for interviews! I'm doing my job! See?!" I understand that. And I figure, "Hey, one of these might turn into a fluke of luck job offer."

So far that hasn't been the case.

So far, I get through the third or fourth round of interviews. That the final heat where it's down to me and one other candidate...and I don't get the offer.

What "gets" me about all of these interviews is that right from the get-go, at the phone interview, I'm told some variation of, "We know you're qualified. We wouldn't be contacting you if you weren't precisely qualified for this position. We have many highly-qualified candidates, so we're looking for a good personality dynamic." Basically what they say is, "You're qualified, you can do the job, we're confident of that, but we have hundreds of other candidates who are qualified, and we have a close-knit team/ballbuster senior manager/diverse department/difficult clients so the personality is the deciding factor in filling this role."

It's not about the ability to do the job, it's about your personality. 

I appreciate the candor of HR and hiring managers, but, because they offer absolutely no clue as to what personality dynamic they're looking for, candidates are flying half-blind at the interviews. I would rather be ignorant of the fact that they've established that I'm qualified to do the job and are only judging my personality.

I received a rejection email this morning that exemplifies this. Last week I had the last of four interviews for a very specific, niche role. I was exceptionally qualified for the job. Exceptionally qualified for a weirdly specific job. But, from the initial phone interview, the recruiter stressed that the tight-knit team wanted a very specific personality to join their group. So I knew, even though I was exceptionally qualified for a weirdly specific role, personality was the key factor in the decision. However, I was given no clue what personality traits they wanted. Even after directly asking them what characteristics were crucial to the team, their clients and the success of their projects I was given vague, nebulous responses with furtive glances exchanged around the conference room. They were either scared or secretive, and yes, in the big picture I don't want to work with a team like that or at a company that perpetuates that type of culture.

But.

I really wanted that job. I would be good at it, I was excited and enthusiastic about the potential of that job. I had a lot to offer them. "Fine," you say, "their loss."

Yeah, I suppose that's one way of looking at it. And yes, ironically, there have been a couple incidents where companies have called me back after a few months stating, "The candidate we chose didn't work out...and we're re-examining the role and the team dynamic. Are you still interested?"

What do you say to that? In a normal world, where jobs are easier to land, you think, "Whoooo, sounds like they have a personnel or management problem there. I really dodged a bullet! I don't want anything to do with them!" But this isn't a normal world, there are not many job openings, and the few openings there are have hundreds, thousands of candidates and getting hired is very difficult. So, against your better judgment, with antennae twitching and intuition screaming, "Run! Run! These people are nuts!" you smile and graciously accept the second shot at a job you were deemed inappropriate for just a few months ago. And most likely get rejected again. Or maybe that's just me.

Today's rejection is especially difficult for me because I had a lot hinging on it. I wanted that job. I really did. Like I said, with each passing interview I had visions and ideas about what I could do to help them dancing in my head. I was excited about it. But I knew, right from the initial contact, that it was about personality, not skills and qualifications. The HR person liked me because she quickly, enthusiastically moved me to the next interview phase. The hiring manager liked me, at least I think he did, we talked for 2 and a half hours in a lively give-and-take conversation about the job and their clients and quickly asked me to return to meet with the team I would be working with/managing. The team I would be managing seemed to like me - I think, I dunno, they seemed friendly and responsive toward me. I was asked to return for a fourth interview so they must have liked me, right?

But apparently it fell apart at the fourth interview. I'm pretty sure I know where I lost the job offer. There was someone from another department who sat in on that fourth interview because the two departments work together on certain projects. The only words I can use to describe this person are combative and defensive. Other people in the room openly winced at some of the statements - statements, not questions - this person spit at me. I listened, smiled and responded professionally.

But apparently that wasn't what they were looking for. Apparently they wanted someone who would handle that combative and defensive person unprofessionally. Because, as they stated from the start, it's about having the right personality. And apparently I don't have the right personality because the first business day after that interview I received the rejection email.

"This is a unique opportunity and we know you are uniquely qualified. But as we discussed it's about finding the right team dynamic. Good luck in your employment endeavors."

That's it. That's the sum total of the rejection email. Which is fine, better that than the usual form rejection email. But it stings. What they're saying is, "We don't like you. You're freakishly qualified for this weirdly specific job, but we don't like you."

I'm feeling particularly "weird" about this one because I interviewed there on Friday and Saturday morning I sent thank-notes to all 12 of the people who were in that meeting. The rejection email arrived at 8:42 this morning (Monday). I'm guessing those 12 people hadn't received, or were just opening, the thank you note from me. I don't care if this makes me the laughing stock of their break room. I did the right thing by sending thank you/follow up notes. But. The timing does make me feel "weird" and begs the question, "Why did you bother to have me jump through all those interview hoops? My personality was fairly obvious by the second, or at least third interview. If it came down to dealing with the combative, defensive team member, then why not introduce me to that person at the first or second interview?

 Anyway.

This one hurts. A lot. Not just because I was excited and enthusiastic about the job, but because it was a last-chance for me.

I returned to Chicago in January planning to "finalize my affairs." My mortgage company has been stalling in forbearance, which is "nice" of them. (read: They don't want to get stuck with a condo they can't sell.) But as my lack of steady paycheck drags on, they're admitting defeat. They offered me a last-gasp offer of refinancing at an extremely low interest rate if I secure a full-time job by March 30. When this weirdly specific job opportunity for which I am uniquely qualified presented itself, and the interview process commenced, I thought, "Well, okay! If I get this job I can keep my condo and at a lower interest rate, too! The timing is fortuitous! Maybe things are finally turning around..." And then I thought, "Whoa, do not allow that kind of thought process, you'll jinx yourself."

Sometimes I wonder if hiring managers understand how crucial a job offer is to some (many) of their candidates?

I'm pretty sure the people at the company I recently interviewed for do not realize that the job offer was the difference between me and homelessness.

I don't discuss and divulge that sort of personal information at interviews. I feel it's unprofessional and of no relevance to the task at hand - finding the right candidate to do a job.

But maybe I should.

Maybe I should beg and cry and plead my personal issues. Maybe desperation and a guilt trip would swing the jury my way. "I need this job! I'm going to lose my home and I need another surgery on my foot and I haven't had a meal with any redeeming nutritional value in over a year. Hire me and I'll be eternally grateful, you'll be getting a qualified candidate and please hire me!"

I'd say I'll try it next time, but now the end is near. Without proof of a full-time job by March 30 my mortgage company is going start the eviction process and send the Sheriff over to padlock my condo. From there...well...I'm not sure. I can stay with my mother until she moves into a senior citizens home in May, and then...I dunno. I really don't have a clue where I'll go or what I'll do.

It makes me sad to think that I was so close to keeping my home, at a greatly reduced rate, at that. I frustrates me, even more than it has in the past two years, to know that just one job offer, one full-time job offer would keep a roof over my head and get me back on track rather quickly and the only reason I didn't get a full-time job offer was because one or two people didn't like me. If I wasn't qualified for the job, okay, sure, that's understandable, that's reconcilable. But when the only reason I didn't get a job offer, and consequently the only reason I can't salvage my home, is because one or two people "on the team" didn't like me, based on 45 minutes in a conference room on a Friday afternoon...wellllll...that stings. It adds an element of personal judgment and character assassination to it. What do I learn from that? How do I gain any insight from that? Even if I badgered them for information as to why they didn't hire me, what would I gain? Since it was all about personality (and not skills or experience), I would have to change my personality, fake it, to persuade them to hire me. I was given no clue as to what sort of personality type they wanted, so I could only be myself. And you know, I know I'm not perfect, but, I am friendly, warm and professional. I'm a nice, trustworthy, nonjudgmental person. People tell me they glean this from me - it's the way my colleagues and friends describe me.

I'm the type of person who, within 10 minutes of meeting me, people start divulging their deepest secrets and asking me for advice on complex problems.

People tell me this can be intimidating. I'm told people who are judgmental or deceitful get nervous around people like me. Okay, well, all right. But. What do I do to change the way I'm perceived? Come off as an abrasive, judgmental, unprofessional snob?

It's the whole "too nice" thing. That bugs the crap out of me. If the niceties are phoney and forced, then yes, I understand "too nice." If a person allows him or herself to be taken advantage of because they're too nice to stand up for themselves, then yes, "too nice" is problematic. But if a person is genuinely nice, a sincerely kind, compassionate, nonjudgmental person...without being a doormat...well...is that really a bad thing? I've never understood the plausibility of being "too" nice and why it's a bad thing.

And I'm pretty sure that's not the case here. No, I didn't cower under the combative, defensive person's affronts, but I didn't take the argument bait, either. I listened and responded professionally, diplomatically, which is exactly how I would handle a situation like that with a client or any other professional situation.

I dunno.

It's disappointing because I really wanted that job. I was eager, enthusiastic and brimming with ideas and solutions for some of the challenges they mentioned in the first few interviews. And on a personal level, the timing was perfect. I could have saved my home and salvaged my life.

And I'll just say it: My feelings are hurt. The fact that I wasn't given this opportunity because of "personality fit" hurts. I'm not exaggerating when I say I was freakishly qualified. There might be a couple other people, five or six at most, who have the very specific criteria, the experience and skill set the job requires. One would think they'd be thrilled to find even one appropriate candidate who can do the job, personality-fit be damned. But it's all about the personality fit. They like you or they don't, and that's how the hiring decision is made. It might not sting as much if so much of my personal life wasn't hinging on this last-gasp opportunity. Get this job: Keep my home. Don't get this job: Move into a homeless shelter. Kind of a lot of pressure, there.

Now I worry that my anxiety somehow seeped into my persona, that maybe I didn't come across as confident as I am, or that I seemed "beaten," or that my enthusiasm was perceived as desperation...on and on and on it goes.

I know it doesn't matter, it's a moot point, now. But. Because this opportunity came up just as I was thrown a mortgage life-ring it's difficult to not try to sort out what went wrong, what it was about me they didn't like. Because it mattered, big time - they didn't hire me and consequently I'm going to be homeless.

After two and a half years of this it's time to admit defeat. I have no clue what employers want. Skills and experience don't seem to matter. If they did, I would have had a job offer within a couple months of being laid off. Professionalism and a friendly, collaborative attitude don't seem to matter, either. Dedication? Leadership skills? Enthusiasm? Client/customer service oriented attitude? Irrelevant, apparently. And that's what I have to offer. All I have to offer. And it's not enough, or not right, or not something. The last interview process broke me. I didn't understand how people could just "give up" looking for a job. I understood being discouraged and frustrated, but giving up? I couldn't understand that. Now I do. You try and try and try and try again, put yourself out there, go to interviews enthusiastic and confident, knowing you're being judged, and then the rejection arrives...it's brutal. It really is brutal. I managed to keep at it because I have lots of experience with rejection. I know how to handle it, thanks to a lifetime of rejection I have a huge cadre of coping techniques.

But in my defense, the only reason I have dealt with so much rejection is because I try. I risk rejection, I put myself "out there" knowing I can, and probably will, fail. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so why not at least try? Well, now I've learned why. Because there's a point where your self-esteem does suffer. There's a point where you break and don't rebound or recover. I learned that in dating and relationships. Once I admitted defeat and gave up I felt a lot better about myself because I wasn't dealing with continued failure and rejection. And now I've learned it in jobs and careers. This is how and why people give up on finding a job. They break. Or, more accurately, get broken by one too many rejections for jobs which they were perfectly qualified to do.

So, I'm packing the last of my stuff, the remaining essentials I had at my place. Interview suits and work clothes, mostly, a few job-related items, a hair dryer, a few dishes, a lamp, my desk. Now that I've given up I don't need any of that stuff. It seems cruelly comedic that my main possessions are a couple suits, a pair of nice shoes, a presentable attache case, some resumes, a few pair of unratty underwear and a desk.

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2:33 PM

Sunday, February 05, 2012  
Notoriety is a weird thing. It's usually used with negative connotations. Notorious. Notoriety. Infamy. Disrepute. Scandal.

But not always. 

I like the rare occasions where notoriety is an ironically good thing. For instance, "George Washington was notoriously traitorous to England." In England some will argue that's not a good thing. (To them I say, "Let it go. Just let it go.") But generally speaking Washington's notorious treason is a valiant virtue. Were it not for his notorious passion to defy tyranny and his notorious dedication to justice, well, you know, things would be a lot different. Maybe worse, maybe better, but definitely different. Probably a lot like Canada. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But. You know. Canada is notoriously, well, you know.

It was recently brought to my attention that I'm notorious for a few things. I was not pleased about this. I strive to be the opposite of notorious. At the very least I try to be respectable. But alas, the facts don't lie: I am notoriously single. I have notoriously gone through a lot of notorious break-ups. Which is a double notorious. I am choosing to believe makes it a double negative, hence, a good thing.

And, it may actually be a positive thing. One of my nieces is in the throes of her first Really Big Breakup. It's getting ugly. I feel awful for her. They were together a couple years and this is not a puppy love. But, it is the first Really Big Breakup for both of them. He was a callous, cruel cad who did not one, not two but at least three unforgivable things and she's heartbroken.

Apparently because I've been through this more than anyone else my niece knows, she turned to me for advice, or at least for a shoulder to cry on. And, you know, I'm a good shoulder to cry on, even if I do say so myself. I have been through a lot of breakups (and just a lot of nonsense from men in general) so I do know what someone going through a breakup wants and needs to hear...and what they absolutely do not want to hear. I also have some pretty good ideas about relationship recovery plans. I'm not proud of the fact that I've been through so many breakups and had the opportunities to try so many different recovery methods that I've honed a fail-proof regime. But, my notoriety in this area can help others, so, maybe it's a good thing.

My niece has implemented my plan and is moving through the stages quite well.

But, man oh man, she really messed up a crucial step. She didn't heed my advice and she's paying the emotional price.

She didn't believe me, she thought she and her ex-boyfriend were "different" and my experience and subsequent knowledge were as outdated as my pre-Facebook/Twitter/texting dating life.

Turns out there is at least one thing impervious to the march of tech time: The Box of Stuff.

Oh sure, Facebook/Twitter/texting add new components to handling boxes of former loves' stuff, new twists, snarkier jabs, more profane jousts and a very public forum for airing the relationship dirty laundry. But the root issue remains: The Boxes of Stuff. And when/how to retrieve them...and what type of items should be returned to an ex...in the Box of Stuff.

I've covered this topic in the past but perhaps my notorious experience in breakups merits a reminder of lessons learned about post-breakup boxes of stuff. Lemons = lemonade. Valentine's Day is just around the corner and as the Mayor of Singleton I'm taking the initiative to offer public service to those who are licking breakup wounds during this difficult time of year for Singletons.

Okay. Firstly, I want to disclaim that every relationship is unique (blah blah) and the duration and depth of the relationship are factors (blah). M'kay? There are variables and subtleties that may justify a variance of methodology. These are general guidelines.

Secondly, I'm not referring to marriage breakups. Divorce is a whole different box of stuff. As is a common law/shared residence situation. Many states and countries have actual laws about who gets what stuff in a divorce/common law/shared residence breakup.

Thirdly, we're going on the assumption that you want closure on the relationship. We're presuming you want to move forward with your life, perhaps date again, and not dwell in some Miss Havisham-esque existence. (And even if you do want to dwell in a Miss Havisham existence, dwell in your own time-stood-still-moment of stuff. Dwelling in your ex's stuff is the sort of thing that gets you featured on Hoarders. No one wants that. Even if you don't want catharsis and closure and a future with someone new, even if your future and life in general ended the day your ex said good-bye forever, get rid of the ex's stuff. When your mummified remains are found you don't want your ex to see the YouTube video of the landlord/real estate agent going through your house and say, "I knew it! I knew she still had my Gone in 60 Seconds deluxe edition DVD! And look, there's the power screwdriver I let her borrow!")

Right. You were not married or living together for an extended period of time. And it's established by both parties that the relationship is over. Fini. And you want to move on from this relationship.

One (or even both) of you probably didn't want the relationship to end, or, at least you didn't want it to end "this way" or "right now." That person is probably experiencing feelings of sorrow, confusion, bitterness, loss, anger, loneliness, depression, sadness, anxiety, fatigue, insecurity, delusion... And the other one (or even both) of you wanted the breakup and instigated it. That person is probably experiencing feelings of relief, happiness, freedom, self-righteousness, independence, jubilation, clarity...

Yes. There is a huge chasm of difference between the emotional status of two participants of a breakup. And that chasm, we'll call it the Dismal Emotional Abyss of Divergence (DEAD), is where the stuff in boxes of stuff take on significance. DEAD is the Bermuda Triangle of failed relationships. Once they enter the DEAD, things either go missing or make it out intact but are never quite the same, they're forever changed. They take on new significance and symbolism.

For instance, I once dated a guy who always (yes, always) argued even the most mundane point about a band or song. If I listened to, say, ? and the Mysterians he'd spend the next hour pointing out all the ways ? and the Mysterians suck/borrowed from another (obscure) band/were overrated and he would then tie in one or several of my faults to his punctuate his point.

"? and the Mysterians suck, their organ work is trite, they're lyrically banal and all their songs sound the same. So it's no surprise you like them because you're cliche, ordinary and boring." (Hey, I never said he was Prince Charming.)

On the one hand this led to some lively and interesting musical debates. On the other hand, he was being contrary for the sake of being contrary and picking fights with me because, well, I guess because he was a jerk. Because really, who doesn't love, or at least like, 96 Tears?

Okay. So. Over the course of our relationship we exchanged a lot of music to make points to each other. We lobbed and volleyed songs and albums back and forth to make points to and about each other. "Oh yeah? Well, listen to this! It's a rare B-side that will forever change your mind about ? and the Mysterians!"

We broke up. (No surprise there.) This was pre-MP3. He had a lot of my music, and I had a lot of his. Somewhere in the DEAD our music co-mingled and spawned. After the post-breakup Box-of-Stuff exchange I discovered that he didn't return all my music. However, he did "return" music that wasn't mine. Did this "mean" something? Was there some sort of message in the music he "gave" me? Or was he just an absent-minded jerk? Or was he "trading" - keeping some of my music but replacing it with something else?

I didn't really care except, to this day, I am really, really mad that he snagged a Cracker EP in the breakup. Throughout our relationship he mocked me for liking Cracker. He'd listen to them and then critique every note. I was pretty sure he actually liked them but was just being contrary because that's what he did. So the fact that a Cracker EP happened to be among the missing in the post-breakup box of stuff exchange infuriated me. More to the point, I was mad that he lied about keeping it. If he wanted it so badly he could have said, "I want to keep the Cracker EP, it reminds me of you, I'll give you a Throwing Muses EP in trade." But he didn't. He would have to admit to liking Cracker and that was never going to happen. And he'd have to be, you know, mature and civil to me. And that was never going to happen. I fought him over the missing Cracker EP but he held firm on his stance that he didn't have it. I have been known to occasionally check eBay to see if anyone's selling that Cracker EP and if so, I check to see if it's my ex who's selling it. I'm sure he had it. And I find it telling that in the breakup box of stuff he included a Throwing Muses EP that wasn't mine. I happen to like Throwing Muses but not enough to buy an EP. (I lobbed more than a few, "If I want to listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees I'll listen to Siouxsie, not some ripoff-du-jour. Throwing Muses, pfft," at him. Hey, I never said I wasn't culpable in the toxicity of that relationship...) Right. In the DEAD that Cracker EP morphed into such a symbolic talisman of our relationship that it approached Golem status.

Ahem.

Such is the nature of mere stuff once it falls into the Dismal Emotional Abyss of Divergence. It becomes larger than life, symbolic to the point of anthropomorphic.

So the whole post-breakup Box of Stuff is a huge hornet's nest of emotions. And you never know what item(s) is going to take on larger-than-life significance. It can be anything, anything. Which is why it's so crucial to handle the Box of Stuff properly.

Let's talk about what goes into the Box of Stuff. There are a couple schools of thought on this. Some people (like me) say: Everything. Anything the ex bought, gave or used is returned in the box (or thrown away). This sends a solid message of, "Yes, it's really over, I don't want anything that reminds me of you, I don't want anything of yours infecting my home. My home is now a (insert ex's name)-free sanctuary."

Other people say: Everything is returned except gifts and souvenirs. This sends a solid message of, "Yes, it's over, but I know in time I will remember the good times fondly and the gifts you gave me and the token items memorializing our time together will be sweet keepsakes of that period of my life." My feeling on this school of thought is that the person who feels that way at the emotionally charged Box-of-Stuff collection juncture is either highly enlightened or clinically delusional. But that might just be several breakups and several Box-of-Stuff exchanges talking.

When I was younger and more idealistic and more, you know, optimistic about love and romance I was more willing to go along with the Keep the Gifts and Souvenirs method. Older, wiser, far too experienced in breakups (notoriously experienced in breakups) I lean more to the "return everything, even the gifts" box-of-stuff methodology.

Why? Because it leaves no room for future debate or conversation. Everything is returned so there's nothing to squabble over, no lingering detritus to debate, no reason to call or text or email. And most importantly, it gives the ex nothing to criticize about you except your personality. If you return everything, even the gifts, the only lambasting and vilifying the ex can do is character assassination about your personality traits. The last thing you want is to give your ex a valid reason to talk smack about you because you kept something they felt should have been returned.

I better mention (what should be) a couple obvious issues:
1) Living beings - animals of any type, even hamsters, turtles, reptiles...should never, ever go in a Box of Stuff. Ever. Ever. Who gets custody of the cat or turtle or goldfish after the breakup is obvious. Where was the being's main residence and who fed it/cleaned up it's excrement? Voila. There's who gets the animal.
2) Personal items bought as gifts that are uniquely sized. Guys, if you lavished your ex with shoe shopping excursions don't expect to find the shoes you bought her in the box of stuff. Because that would just be weird. Girls, if you bought your ex a suit to wear to your cousin's wedding don't expect to find that suit in the box of stuff. Because that would just be weird.

I think it comes down to length of relationship and the cause of the breakup. The longer you were together and/or the more hurtful/deceitful/vicious the breakup, the more sentimental attachment there is to the stuff of the relationship, and the more wrath those objects will conjure when the relationship sours. The stuff can be sweet, venerated reminders of better days, or resentment soaked, tear- or violence-inducing embodiments of all that was wrong in the relationship.

Others contend that monetary value is a key element. We'll get into the variables and nuances in a moment.

There is one Universal truth: If an item is truly the other person's, not a gift or obvious souvenir with an obvious "owner," you must return it. Clothes, records, books, spices, and all hygiene items are non-negotiable and must be returned.

Guys, this means everything. In case you're uncertain, let's make it easy and just say anything with a L'Occitane, Diptyque, Bath & Body Works, Crabtree & Evelyn, Lush or Body Shop logo must go into the Box of Stuff to be returned to your ex-girlfriend. It also means all shampoo/hair products, lipstick, candles, lingerie, and yes, tampons and birth control. Yes, you have to touch tampons and The Pill packet. Just bite the bullet, pick up the box and the pill container and put them in the Box-of-Stuff to return to her. I promise touching tampons and birth control pills will not cause you to start ovulating or give you cooties. And you do not want these items in your home when you start dating a new girl. No matter how deeply you push them into the recesses of the vanity, the new girl will see them. Women have a special tracking device embedded in our DNA, we can sense a tampon or birth control pill the way you guys can sense beer and topless chicks. So just do everyone a favor and give the tampons and birth control back to your ex. Why not just throw them away? Because if she doesn't receive them in her Box-of-Stuff she'll assume one of two things: A) You threw them away and wasted perfectly good tampons and birth control, or, more likely, B) You were too afraid of them to touch them and they're still in the vanity under your sink. She'll extrapolate on option B and think about the next woman you date. She'll either A) Chuckle at how incensed the new girl will be to find your ex's tampons and birth control pills still in your bathroom or B) Get creeped out thinking that your next girlfriend is so sleazy that she'll use your ex's tampons and birth control. In every one of these case scenarios you look really bad. So just put them in the Box-of-Stuff to return to the ex.*

And for the ladies, this means socks, underwear and his toothbrush. Yes, his socks and underwear are threadbare and gross and yes his toothbrush is so worn out it's not effective. But you are not his mother, his therapist or his dentist. Throughout the relationship you tolerated these things or tried to pretend they weren't as bad as they really are, so hold onto that delusional attitude just long enough to transfer these items to The Box. Think of it this way: This is the last time you'll have to handle his threadbare "lucky boxers" and "comfy socks." You can ceremoniously toss them in the box knowing that catharsis is yours. Never again will those socks and underwear mingle with your undies in the washer and dryer. Let freedom ring.

And guys, yes, this also  means her perfume, even if you gave it to her. If it's opened and used you have to give it back to her. Trust me, you do not want to have perfume anywhere in your home when you start dating a new girl. Even if you keep it buried deep in your sock drawer and only spritz a teeny tiny amount on a towel and sniff it before bedtime every now and then, you do not, repeat do not, want any trace of perfume in your home when you start dating a new girl.

And girls, yes, this also means his jeans/dress shirt/softest t-shirt on the planet. I know, I know. Believe me, I know. But truly, no matter how much better they look on you, you do not want to keep them. There will be new men, new shirts, new jeans to borrow and new soft t-shirts to sleep in.

There are some exceptions, of course, but keep in mind that the exceptions can easily fall into the gift milieu. Caution must be used. It can take several breakups to understand the subtleties between gifts v. nongifts, but here are a few common examples.

If a guy only has a couple really crappy bath towels (and/or a really awful bathmat, or no bathmat at all) and the girl wants to use a nice towel and/or bathmat when she's at his place and procures a new towel or two and/or a bathmat for his bathroom, then the gift is implied. True, the items were procured by the woman to use at the guy's place because he's too cheap or Neanderthalic to buy a couple decent towels and a bathmat, and technically they're hers. But. They were bought to be used expressly at the guy's place. And they're used. And you have nice towels and a bathmat. Let it go, just let it go. Let the guy have them. Conversely, if a girl has a malfunctioning DVD player (or no DVD player at all) and the guy buys a DVD player to watch Star Wars/sports bloopers/porn at her place, then the gift is implied. True, the DVD player was procured by the guy to use at the girl's place because she's too technologically impaired or cheap to buy a DVD player, and technically it's his. But. It was bought to be used expressly at the girl's place. And you have a much better DVD player anyway. Let it go, just let it go.

Sheets are an exception, though. Sheets are expensive. Chicks tend to splash out the money on nice, soft, comfy sheets. Expensive sheets. Guys tend to be clueless about threadcount and cost of sheets. So guys, if a girl brought sheets from her place, or purchased new sheets to use at your place, give them back to her. Unless they were a gift - and guys, you'll know they were a gift if they were wrapped and tied with a bow. Girls always wrap presents. If new sheets just appeared on your bed one night, they were not a gift. They were a not-so-subtle message that your sheets are scratchy and/or gross and even your softest t-shirt on the planet can't cushion the chaffing your sheets cause. No gift wrapping = Not a gift. You must return them to her in the box of stuff. Wrapped in fancy, special paper adorned with a bow = Gift. You can keep them. (Speaking of scratching and chaffing: Guys, go ahead and keep any toilet paper or facial tissue your ex may have bought for your place. Consider it a consolation prize. But girls, if he bought some weirdo toilet paper or facial tissue when you were sick and asked him to pick up a few things for you, feel free to include his cheap, scratchy, rash inducing toilet paper in his Box-of-Stuff. "...and take your cheapass scratchy toilet paper with you!" has a nice ring to it.)

The longer the relationship, the more stuff that accumulates at each others' homes. It's a law of the Universe. And common sense. Sometimes you've dated so long that it's difficult or even impossible to discern who owns what. You like to make waffles on Saturday mornings, so at some point you went to Bed, Bath and Beyond together and bought a waffle iron. You paid for it, you keep it at her place, but let's be honest, she's the one who made the waffles every Saturday for two years. You bought it so she'd make you waffles. So don't be surprised when the waffle maker doesn't find its way into the Box-of-Stuff returned to you. You got your money's worth out of that waffle iron. Don't make the waffle iron your raison d'etre in every post-breakup argument. Because really, admit it, if she put the waffle iron in the Box-of-Stuff it would pierce your heart and make you cry. "The waffle iron? She's giving me the waffle iron? We made waffles every Saturday morning..." You do not want to cry over waffles. Do you?

Then there's the lamp. There's often a lamp. She likes to read in bed/see what color socks she's putting on in the morning. You don't have a lamp in your bedroom. I dunno why, I guess because you're a guy and apparently there's a rule about not having a lamp in your bedroom. You're at Crate and Barrel buying a wedding gift for friends and she sees a lamp that would be perfect beside your bed. You envision her curled up next you reading a vintage bound book of that Edwardian poetry she likes, softly sighing romantically every now and then, gently kissing your shoulder as she turns the page, her skin creamy and glowing in the light from that lamp. Then you imagine her cutely pulling on her socks early on a cold winter morning, illuminated by the warm glow of that bedside lamp. She's adorable. So when she says, "What do you think? Should I get it?" You say, "Sure!" She paid for it (and the wedding present for your friends, by the way, oops, you forgot to pay her back for your half of that present) but the intent was always for use beside your bed. It's been the only source of light in your bedroom for two years. It's your lamp. If you return it to her in the box of stuff she'll cry. What kind of insensitive jerk are you? She's probably already crying a lot. The box of stuff is going to make her cry. Do not include the lamp and make her cry more than she already is.

And this is where some will bring up the monetary issue. They'll say, "Wait a minute, what if that lamp was really expensive? She paid for it, it's hers. If it were some inexpensive Target clearance-shelf lamp, no big deal. But those Crate and Barrel lamps can be expensive." Or what if it wasn't a waffle iron. What if it was an LCD television he bought when her old television broke? Surely he deserves to have the television. Why should she continue to enjoy it? Fair points. And I agree, expensive items do warrant extra consideration during a breakup. Personally, I'm the type to return everything, especially big-ticket items. I do not want anything left to remind me of a failed relationship, and I especially do not want the guilt an expensive item can cause. To me it would feel like stealing something, ill-gotten gains, at best. But that's me. I can understand why some people might feel entitled to ownership of a big ticket item after a breakup. Go for it, but tread carefully. There are volatile emotional landmines out there. (To clarify, I'm not talking real estate or automobiles, here. At some point those items always revert back to the purchaser. Period.)

Going back to personal, uniquely sized items (@ #2), above). Price/street value is a factor. If the shoes procured for the ex were, say, Laboutin's or the suit was a Zegna, then we're in a very different economic realm. Those items have resale value. There are plenty of high end consignment shops that will pay a surprising amount of money for gently used high-ticket items. Sorry girls, if your ex lavished you with pricy shoes you want to consider returning them to him. I know, I know. They were gifts and he broke up with you so it's his loss and all's fair in love and war and these are shoes we're talking about here, good shoes, coveted shoes. But. If you know darned well that those Jimmy Choos are coveted by women everywhere and you know a consignment shop that would love to get their mitts on them, well, there's your answer. Give 'em back to the ex so he can have his sister or mother take them to a consignment shop. And really, you don't want that reminder of him. And guys, that even though that Zegna she bought you may be your only suit and you have a job interview next week, tough. You should have a suit anyway. If your ex had to buy you a suit because you didn't own one, well, dude, grow up. And return the suit to her because she can take it to a consignment shop. Yes, even though it was tailored to fit you it can be re-tailored to fit someone else. It's the circle of life.

Time to talk about the nuances involved with the who broke up with whom aspect. This is where the Box-of-Stuff can plummet into a cat and mouse game of tit for tat. Some people feel they have certain rights to property if their ex was the one who initiated the breakup. And sure, there is a certain logic and justification in that train of thought. "He dumped me/cheated on me/stole my car, I deserve this television for all the pain and suffering he caused me, I'm not giving him anything, I never want to see him again, he should of thought of that before he broke up with me, possession is 9/10ths of the law..." I get it. I really do. It does matter who initiated the breakup, you know, emotionally. And if there are significant lessons to be learned from the breakup, then yes, it matters who initiated the breakup and why. But when it comes to the stuff, the stuff doesn't care who initiated the breakup or why, the stuff belongs with its owner, not with its owner's ex.

Once again, several breakups under my belt, notorious for having survived several breakups, I can say with confidence that in the long run its best to return all the stuff, even the gifts, regardless of who initiated the breakup. I cannot stress this enough: Removing all the ex's items, purging your home of everything remotely related to the ex takes you several giant leaps forward to your next (hopefully better) relationship. As long as there's an item - a belonging or memento - of your ex's in your home, there's a tiny part of you that's still attached to the ex. You broke up, you're not getting back together, you want to move on, right? Right. Get rid of their stuff. Make your home an ex-free sanctuary. I've been known to paint the walls in order to rid my place of lingering ghosts of relationships past. You might be surprised what a fresh coat of paint does to rid the stale relationship air pooling in dark corners. What? You didn't notice the stale relationship air pooling in dark corners?! Get painting.

And nothing says, "It's over. Really. I never (ever) want to see you again" like showing up with the Box-of-Stuff. On its own, "It's not you it's me, I need some space" is open to interpretation. But. Showing up with a box of their stuff and saying, "It's not you, it's me, I need some space, here's your stuff" cements the breakup. You mean business. It's over. It's really, really over. You want them, and their stuff, out of your life. You need space and getting rid of their stuff is the first step to creating more space.

The only item that constitutes the who broke up with whom designation is an engagement ring. And even then I say: return it. No matter who initiated the breakup and ended the engagement, return the ring to whomever bought it. But, courts of law have been very clear about this issue: Engagement rings are gifts, not contestable stock. Yes, they are emotional chattel and the giving back of the ring is, well, it's rough. I've done it. I know. It's shocking how difficult it is to let go of that stupid ring.

But women, ladies, please, I'm begging you, please, if you initiate the dissolution of an engagement (relationship breakup implied) do our gender a favor and give him back the ring. One small step for you, one giant leap toward ridding the "money grubbing gold-digging" reputation of womankind. He gave you the ring as a promise, a symbol of his devotion and dedication to you and your future together. In turn, you accepted his proposal, and the ring, and you wear it as a symbol of your faithfulness and devotion to him. You changed your mind, you broke the engagement, and even though it was a gift, and technically it's yours, please rise above the pettiness and return the ring to him.

And men, if you initiate the breaking of the engagement do not expect her to return the ring. And do your gender a favor and do not lord over the fact that you "let" her keep the ring. If the ex returns the ring to you, regardless of who initiated the breakup, gracefully accept the ring because the woman, your ex, is doing the right thing and you are to be appropriately humbled by her strength of character.

My suggestion is that you sell the ring for whatever you can get for it and then donate the money to a charity you both support. This is how one makes something positive out of a bad situation. Conversely, selling it and taking a vacation is like dancing on someone's grave: Tacky and just really bad karma. And if you're even considering tucking it away and keeping it to give to the next girl, well, brother let me tell ya, that's a bad idea on a lot of levels and you might want to consider some sensitivity training. And if you think "no one will ever know," remember that tampon and birth control tracking device I told you women have? Dude, that's nothing compared to the uncanny accuracy with which we can sense and find a used engagement ring. Seriously. Just get rid of it. Sell it and donate the money to charity and move on with your life basking in the warm glow of altruism.

If it's a family heirloom, well, that's a whole other kettle of emotional blackmail. I understand family traditions. But if you're having difficulty finding the right girl to settle down with, why not give the heirloom ring to your sister, cousin, brother's wife...someone who will appreciate it and keep it in the family?

One last word on engagement rings: If you're a guy and you initiate the breakup of the engagement after substantial money has been spent on wedding plans, and the girl, your now ex, gives you back the ring, your ex (and whomever helped pay for the wedding plans) is the charitable benefactor of the money garnered by selling the ring. There is no leeway on this point. Money was spent on a wedding, in good faith that you meant it when you proposed to spend the rest of your life with her. Then you reneged on a deal. You owe money to the bride and/or whomever paid for wedding plans. Selling the engagement ring is a good start on the debt repayment.

Let's talk about timing. You've cried, drank, fasted, engorged, drank, cried, complained, beat your head against a few walls, collected all the ex's stuff and put it in a poignantly labeled box and booked a trip to Newfoundland. Now what? When, and how, do you get the Box-of-Stuff to your ex?

Heh heh heh. This is the tricky part. It took me several breakups to learn how to finesse this aspect. This is what separates the novices from the pros, the younglings from the grand masters. Consider me your Box-of-Stuff sensei, your Box-of-Stuff Jedi Grand Master. I won't like Yoda talk, but you the point get.

Like I said, if you're initiating the breakup, and it's a premeditated breakup, then gather the stuff, put it in a box and take it with you to the "We Need to Talk" talk. It might seem harsh, but it really is like taking off a bandage. It's gonna hurt no matter how you do it, so just do it fast. And by showing up with the Box-of-Stuff you send the strong message that you've thought about this and you really and truly want to break up. So much so that you gathered all their things, put them in a box and brought them to the breakup. I like this method because there's no gray area. Intentions are very clear. It's over.

However this does leave the person who's just been dumped in a rather difficult position in terms of stuff. Do they quickly scamper around amassing their now ex's stuff to give to them before they leave? Not a bad plan, but, it does make for some awkward time together. You've just broken up and given your ex the Box-of-Stuff. They may or may not have seen this coming, but regardless, they're in some emotional turmoil. You're forcing them into the position of having to make a room-by-room run-through of your stuff while still in the throes of processing the fact that you've just broken up with them. You're standing there expectantly and they're trying to stay focused on task, "Um, okay, well, I see you're serious about this, I notice you're giving me back the cocktail swords from drinks we had on the night you first told me you loved me, and oh look, you even brought my tampons. Yep, you're serious, you need space. Well, um, okay, um, well, here's your Gwar CD and hang on a minute, I'll get your t-shirt and socks, um, toothbrush...waffle iron...waffle iron, is that yours or mine? I can't remember. Um, cables for the DVD player, DVDs...DVDs...Star Wars, yours, Groundhog Day mine Forest Hump, yours...oh, there's that stupid dime bag you bought thinking you were so cool, *I hope the beat cop's narcotic dog sniffs you down*, your slimy microphone shaped soap on a rope, um, oh, and here, the earrings you gave me for my birthday, yeah...I guess that's just about it, right?" You get my point, it's a little awkward. And while I advocate this "quicker the better" strategy for this particular breakup scenario (the premeditated breakup scenario where the dumper shows up with the Box-of-Stuff), stay realistic about the completeness of contents. In that hasty just-been-dumped slap-dash rush to gather all the new ex's stuff, it's easy to overlook or forget a crucial item or two. Do not hold this against them. Remember, you had time to think about the breakup and accumulate your now ex's belongings. The ex didn't have that kind of advantage. If you're the one who was blitz-dumped, cut yourself some slack and don't panic. Gather the obvious (the stuff of theirs you hate and can't wait to get rid of) and know that just because your ex showed up with a box of your stuff doesn't mean you have to return the favor right this minute. A return trip, or an exchange in a designated return spot for the final handing over of stuff may be necessary.

Which leads to the more usual breakup scenario. Maybe things haven't been going so well lately. Maybe there have been petty arguments and repressed frustrations. It seems like love is fading, or at least diminishing, but then, you've been together a while, it's normal for things to be a little lackluster, and you've both been under a lot of pressure at your jobs, working long hours and what you both need is a nice vacation. And then it happens. The petty argument turns into a below the belt slinging brawl and it doesn't result in makeup sex. Feelings are hurt. Frustrations were revealed. There's either an all pervading seething contempt or quiet resignation. It's over. You both know it. Looking back you both knew it months ago but hoped things would get better. They didn't. And now it's time to part ways.

This is the most difficult Box-of-Stuff exchange. You're both experiencing fluctuating emotions and you both bounce between desperately wanting to hurt the other person and contemplatively wanting the other person to be happy. Crap, this sucks. I hate breakups. It's times like these I'm so glad to be a permanent resident of Singleton up on the shelf collecting dust.

Right. A bad breakup. Subsequent Boxes-of-Stuff.

The best, time-tested method I've found is to appoint an official Box-of-Stuff messenger. One of you will have to instigate the plan, but once a trusted neutral mutual friend is on board and the wheels are in motion the other party tends to recognize the respect and beauty of the plan and it generally goes smoothly. But the success hinges on the designated Box-of-Stuff messenger.

The designated Box-of-Stuff appointee should be the most neutral mutual** friend you have. Think: Switzerland. Who is the most Swiss of your mutual friends? That's who you appoint to serve as the Box-of-Stuff go-between. This is an important role, so you do not want to rush into the decision. And it's asking a lot of someone, especially someone who's very Swiss. Neutral people tend to not like conflict so they tend to avoid it. So you may have difficulty persuading your most neutral mutual friend to take on this role. Do not pressure them because that will turn them off, offend them, and sway them to your ex's side.

And do not, under any circumstance, badmouth your ex to the neutral mutual friend. I don't care if your ex was exploring their sexuality with all the members of a murderous bi-sexual gang hiding undercover as Longshoremen and gave you an untreatable STD, then posted a video to YouTube of you in the kitchen wearing nothing but a macrame owl around your neck singing an impassioned rendition of  Rock Me Gently while banging out the drum parts on your chest with spatulas while your grandmother's 90th birthday cake is visible on the counter and the time/date stamp set at 25 minutes before guests arrived for your grandmother's birthday party, and called your boss and his wife unspeakable names in a public Facebook post. Right now your goal is to get rid of your ex's stuff and hopefully get your stuff from your ex. You don't do or say the things you want to say about your ex. You stay silent about your ex in order to put Switzerland at ease. I know this because I've been the appointed Box-of-Stuff designee a few times. Yes, I have been Switzerland. It's not easy.

Here's a sample conversation, "Hi, Neutral Friend. I'm not sure if you heard, but (the ex) and I broke up. Yeah, we've grown apart, we both need some space, it's time to move on. Here's the thing. I want to respect (the ex's) privacy and emotions right now. I'm the last person s/he needs to see. But I have a Box-of-Stuff that s/he had at my place and I was wondering if maybe I could bring it to your place so s/he can pick it up there? We both respect and like you, you're like Switzerland to us. I don't want to make this awkward for you, but you're the only person I really trust not to judge or criticize either of us, and I know there's some stuff in the box that s/he wants, so, could I impose on you to do us this favor?"

Depending on your neutral mutual friend's Swissness, they'll either recognize that they can be a part of a plan for healing and recovery or they'll politely decline. If they decline, do not get angry at them. They're just being Swiss. They don't like conflict. They mind their own business and don't judge others. This is why you like and respect them. Move down the list to the next person on the list of possibilities. Eventually you'll find someone willing to act as the appointed Box-of-Stuff designee.

If you really want to expunge your ex from your life, you probably gathered and packed the Box-of-Stuff fairly quickly after the breakup. I'm not saying it was easy, but you did it. Your ex might need a little more time. I've found three - four weeks is the "best" time frame for the Box-of-Stuff exchange. But depending on the duration of the relationship and cause of demise, anything up to two months is appropriate. After that it gets weird for everyone, even Switzerland.***

Your designated Box-of-Stuff appointee orchestrates the exchange. They act as go-between, but it's crucial that you do not inconvenience the designee. You keep conversation light and drop-off strategies simple. Both parties of the breakup take the Box-of-Stuff to the designee's home. The designee will make sure to arrange the drops at days/times when the warring factions those in the breakup will not cross paths. At the appointed time, you drop off your ex's Box-of-Stuff.

You do not leave special instructions, cryptic messages or reveal any details about the breakup. You are visiting Switzerland and you are to remain respectful and neutral.

"Here's my ex's stuff. Thank you for doing this for us. I owe you, big time. How about drinks sometime after work?" That's it. That's all you say. If your ex has already dropped off your Box-of-Stuff you retrieve it from Switzerland without comment except, "Thank you!" You do not cast aspersions about your ex, you do not even check the contents of the box, you just say, "Thank you" and leave. There will be plenty of time to cast aspersions about your ex and painstakingly review the contents of the box when you get home.

Aspersions and Box-of-Stuff contents do not concern your Switzerland. Your mutual neutral friend generously agreed to act as a neutral safe-house for your stuff and that's it. Once you've dropped off your ex's Box-of-Stuff and retrieved yours, Leave. Switzerland. Out. Of. It. You've just lost your boy/girlfriend. Do you want to lose your most trustworthy, nonjudgmental friend, too? No, you do not. Trust me, you will need this person in the coming weeks and months.

So that's it, that's how you do it.

Yes, of course there are other ways. Going back and forth, arguing over who owns what, dragging boxes across town and showing up at your ex's with their Box-of-Stuff at 1 AM a little drunk and crying. Spending copious emotion-filled phone calls/texts arguing over when/how/where to exchange stuff. Returning items a few at a time or one-by-one...as you know, this only prolongs the process which prolongs the breakup which stalls healing which prevents you from getting out there and taking that trip to Newfoundland or embarking on a journey of lapidary enlightenment in the form of a jasper-cutting class. Breakups suck. Breakups hurt. Breakups scar and change you. Breakups also give way (eventually) to new opportunities. Maybe not better opportunities, but different opportunities. And the longer you let unresolved breakup detritus linger, the longer it'll take to grab those different opportunities.

Which speaks to another issue about the Box-of-Stuff. Some people avoid the Box-of-Stuff. They don't return their ex's stuff and they don't retrieve their stuff from their ex. Their ex may try to exchange stuff, but Avoiders are either so deeply in denial or so hurt that they just avoid the whole thing. It's not your job to help them heal, but you do want your stuff and you don't want theirs. This can be really tricky because you do not want to send any kind of mixed signal. Tell them when you're dropping off the Box-of-Stuff or assert when you want to pick up your stuff at the appointed Box-of-Stuff designee's place. Do not make threats, do not harass, do not issue ultimatums. Remember, you cared about this person enough to date them long enough to acquire stuff, so there was some shred of respect at some point. Cling to that respect and tell your ex you both need to do this so you can heal properly.

Or maybe you're breaking up with someone who's apathetic about their stuff, your stuff, the breakup, everything and life in general. They're indifferent to the point of something tinged with an element of fear - something often best portrayed by Christopher Walken. This is probably why you broke up with them - they lacked passion or even regard for anything and were just kind of creepy. Tell them when you'll bring their stuff over and that if they're not home they can leave your stuff on the porch, with the neighbor, at the 7-11 down the street...the key here is to make it easy for the ex. They're apathetic so they're not concerned about, well, anything. The easier you make it, the more probable the exchange. You may have to take your own box and gather your stuff, don't rely on this type of ex to care enough to do any of that. On the plus side, if you're uncertain about the ownership of an item, they're so apathetic they won't care if you mistakenly take something that's theirs.

Ironically, in regard to boxes of stuff, the breakups with jerks are the easiest. If your ex didn't:
  • share their interests or stuff with you;
  • and/or never bought you anything;
  • and/or you didn't go anywhere together or do anything together to accumulate anything, 
then, voila! no stuff, no box. Which does make the breakup easier. Sad, yes, and very telling. A lack of stuff, of any sort, is prophetic. True, some people just don't accumulate stuff, or have any interests or stuff to share, but...still...if your ex didn't have so much as a pack of gum at your place or give you a present for your birthday/holiday of choice, then maybe you weren't seeing the writing on the wall. No, it's not about stuff or acquiring stuff. It's about participating in life and the stuff that accumulates because of that participation. Get out there an find someone who has interests and likes to share them and bothers to care and learn about yours. Find someone who's okay with you leaving tampons under his bathroom sink and feels comfortable bringing his microphone soap-on-a-rope to your place, someone who wants to watch you put on your socks on cold winter mornings and can commit to a waffle maker so they can make waffles with you.

Yes, it means sharing and leaving pieces of you and your life, and risking them in the breakup, but sometimes couples don't break up. Sometimes couples actually stay together and stop keeping track of whose stuff is whose because it doesn't matter.

I know, I know, big words coming from the dedicated Mayor of Singleton, notorious for surviving many (many) breakups. Just because I no longer participate in dating and relationships doesn't mean I don't support those who do.

And for those who did and then broke up, here's the summarized action plan for the return of stuff, the post-breakup action plan including the Box-of-Stuff Exchange.
  1. Cry. 
  2. Booze. 
  3. Ice cream. 
  4. Booze. 
  5. Loss of appetite. 
  6. Procure a large, sturdy box. If you can find a poignantly labeled box so much the better. For instance, if the ex was a wine snob, a Bud Lite box will send a message heard loud and clear. If the ex was a holier than thou Veganazi, a Betty Crocker brownie mix carton will say more than you can ever verbally articulate about diet being a personal choice. (but an Omaha Steak box is just unnecessarily cruel and says more about your immaturity than your ex's dietary self-righteousness). 
  7. Place the box someplace prominent like next to the television or in front of the bedroom closet. 
  8. Eat pizza. 
  9. Stop crying. 
  10. Go on a health kick. 
  11. Do a three day green tea detox. 
  12. During the physical detox, detox your home. It's time to start putting the ex's stuff into the box you procured. Start with the easy stuff, stuff you never liked and secretly hated having in your place. Toss it in the box. 
  13. Call a friend. 
  14. Hang out with friends. 
  15. Talk about the ex. Ridicule the ex's stuff. 
  16. Booze. 
  17. Green tea detox. 
  18. Start a list of neutral mutual friends, these are the potential Swiss Guards of your Boxes-of-Stuff.
  19. Tackle the emotionally charged items slowly, one or two items at a time. Placing them in the box will be difficult, but ultimately it will be cathartic. 
  20. Drink if you must, call a friend or leave the premises for a few hours after placing the emotionally charged items in the box of stuff. 
  21. Do a room-by-room evaluation, leave no drawer unopened, no chair cushion unturned, clothes hamper unravaged. Make like CSI and eliminate every trace of the ex.
  22. Fight the urge to include a) a sappy greeting card, b) a long letter detailing all the ways in which your ex hurt you, and c) little love notes they used to "hide" for you to find. Love notes are in a league of their own when it comes to post breakup stuff. They're a topic unto themselves, but whatever your feelings about them, they do not belong in the Box-of-Stuff returning to your ex.
  23. When you are fully and truly certain every item the ex had at your place is in the box, go online and plan a vacation or weekend getaway or at the very least sign up for a class doing something you always wanted to try but never found the time because between work and the ex you didn't have a lot of spare time and the ex was never up for trying anything new. Ahem. This vacation/class is a) your reward for making it through the emotional purging of stuff land mine and b) a healthy step to your new life full of rich and rewarding experiences without the ex. 
  24. After you plan and book your getaway/class, make the calls to your potential Swiss Guardians of the Boxes-of-Stuff Exchange.
  25. Once someone has agreed to orchestrate the exchange, follow their assigned schedule to the minute. Drop off your ex's box of stuff precisely when told, and if you are to pick up your Box-of-Stuff at the same time, do so without making a scene. If you have to go back at a later date to retrieve your stuff, politely thank Switzerland and tell them you'll wait for Box-of-Stuff arrival confirmation. When you receive confirmation that your Box-of-Stuff has arrived at the Swiss drop point, retrieve it as quickly as possible so as to not further inconvenience Switzerland in any way. 
  26. Go home and place the box in a corner. If there's one item that you're "worried" about, for instance a family heirloom or something with extreme sentimental or monetary value, then yes, check the box and make sure it's there. But don't spread out the contents and spend an entire weekend evaluating the significance of each and how your ex might have felt while packing your Box-of-Stuff. Just let your box sit there in the corner for a few days. Eventually, one-by-one, you'll need/want the items in the box. 
  27. And one day, poof! the box will be empty and you can throw it away or use it to store your lapidary class projects or the hiking boots you used on your trip to Newfoundland.
  28. Congratulations. You have now notoriously gone through a notorious breakup with grace and aplomb and emerged with your dignity and possessions in tact.




*There are some really creepy guys out there who keep an "overnight kit" for female guests. Tampons, douche, and individually wrapped moist towelettes all arranged neatly in a basket on display in the bathroom. In my very distant past I was set up on dates with two such men. They also had several bottles of perfume, kind of like a bathroom at an expensive nightclub where there's an attendant and a tip bowl. It's a safe bet that both had several negligees and stockings of various sizes to offer overnight guests, too. Both were European, one Italian, one Spaniard and both were way too swing for me. I guess they thought they were being thoughtful and enlightened, but c'mon, what kind of guy keeps a stash of feminine hygiene products on hand for overnight guests? Middle-aged hairy guys named Giovanni and Paulo who wear Speedos, gold bracelets, Bally loafers and Paco Rabanne, that's who.

**Neutral Mutual = brilliant band name. Neutrality of Mutuality by Neutral Mutual. Okay, a little '80s, but brilliant nonetheless.

***I once took a post breakup Box-of-Stuff to the designated mutual friend a couple weeks after the breakup. My ex had already dropped off my Box-of-Stuff at our Switzerland, so I got my stuff. Three months later my ex still hadn't picked up his Box-of-Stuff from Switzerland and let me tell ya, Switzerland was growing less neutral by the day. Turns out my ex was having a little tryst with a woman from the Paris office who was visiting for a few months. The ex's plan was to try to get back together with me when she returned to Paris. I think you can guess what my response to that was, and Switzerland became my full ally. We had drinks after work. Several drinks of several types of alcohol later Switzerland and I dumped my ex's Box-of-Stuff in the courtyard of his apartment building. I'm not proud of this and do not recommend it. Learn from my experience.

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