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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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

 
Sunday, April 12, 2015  
A single woman was recently forced to confront the scary side of living alone after kitchen mishap. Single woman, Tricia "Trillian" McMillian is contemplating "getting back out there" again after a long dating hiatus. The catalyst for her change of stance on dating was a small kitchen accident involving a glass bowl falling and crashing into shards on the floor around her bare feet. One of the large shards bounced and poked her bare foot, causing copious amounts of blood to gush from the wound. She quickly and carefully made her way out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, leaving a trail of bloody footprints.

"Based on the amount of blood I thought it was really serious. My foot was immediately absolutely drenched in blood. I turned on the cold water in the bathtub and ran my foot under the cool water, and even with the force of the tub faucet the bleeding was so intense that I couldn't get a good look at the wound. The way the blood ran in steady streams over the side of my foot, it looked like there was at least one huge gash along the top and side of the ball of my foot, maybe two large gashes. And you know how glass cuts are - they're so sharp they don't really hurt at first. That was when I started to worry. How was I going to get to a hospital? I was sure a gash like that would need stitches. I tried to apply pressure but the blood just kept oozing all over the place. It was really gross and I started to get queasy. The tissues I used to wipe my foot were immediately drenched in blood. I started to feel faint."

It was at that point that the single woman started to contemplate bigger issues than the cut on her foot.  If she hit her head when she fell after fainting, no one would know there was anything wrong until she didn't show up for work the next day. By then the blood loss and head injury would either kill her or, more likely, leave her with brain damage. "Okay, I know that's kind of an extreme reaction, but you didn't see the blood. It looked like a crime scene in there," the single woman said, shuddering at the memory of the aftermath left in her bathroom the night she cut her foot, "people call the Red Cross disaster response team for lesser messes than that."

The single woman sat on the edge of the bathtub and continued to apply pressure to her foot while holding it under the tub faucet. Eventually the flow of blood decreased enough to allow Ms. McMillian to asses the wound. To her surprise, it was a deep puncture wound rather than one or more cuts. Once she found the source of the blood, she applied firm, direct pressure and the bleeding eventually decreased.  Eventually she was able to apply a bandage and leave the bathroom to clean up the bloody foot prints and mess in the kitchen.

However, the incident was a catalyst for a period of introspection punctuated by paranoia and self-pity. "When I was bleeding profusely and thought there were multiple, deep wounds requiring stitches, I was trying really hard to not hyperventilate. But I kept thinking, 'How am I going to get to a hospital?' and 'I can't pass out, I can't pass out, I'll bleed to death if I pass out...' and those thoughts made me more stressed. I found it really difficult to get myself to a calm state of mind. I'm usually pretty good in a crisis, but the blood, I mean, there was just so much blood, so much blood, and for a few minutes I just couldn't get a grip."

Fortunately she did get a grip and after applying constant pressure to the wound the bleeding slowed and eventually entirely stopped. But the reality of being single and living alone lingered through the evening and into the next day.

"We all die alone, as they say," Ms. McMillian said, taking on a pragmatic tone, "but I'd rather not die by fainting, hitting my head and bleeding to death because it took a couple days for anyone to worry enough about me to break into my home a look for me. And the fact that it would probably be someone from work, mad that I didn't show up or call in sick, really pushed me over the edge and into a period of deep reflection." 

The single woman contemplated her options: A roommate, a servant or a boyfriend. "A roommate is probably far more attainable, and I could use some help with household expenses, but I have a small one bedroom condo, and bunking up in one bedroom doesn't appeal to me at this juncture in my life. I can't afford a live-in butler or caregiver, so, that leaves me with no other option than a boyfriend." The single woman gave up dating several years ago after several failed attempts at relationships and dating. She reports that since accepting her fate as spinster there's been a sense of relief. "Sure, I get lonely. And sometimes I get really sad. And lonely. But. It's nothing like the loneliness I felt after being rejected by man after man," Ms. McMillian sighed, wistfully, "I really do not want to 'get back out there' again. But. I don't want to bleed to death alone in my bathroom. I've always been really independent, but this experience left me kinda scared about living alone."

3:01 PM

 
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