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

 
Tuesday, May 19, 2015  
Okay, the Cannes heels thing is getting out of hand.

As you probably assume, I have opinions about this.

I'll get my opinions out of the way.
1) I agree with an "attire code" at Cannes. They want to keep it elegant. It's France. And more than that, it's the Riviera. Note that I did not say that they want to keep it classy. Telling people what to do is rarely classy. Telling people what to wear is almost never classy.

However. There are occasions and events where an attire guideline is helpful, and yes, necessary. I appreciate invitations that spell out the attire expectations. I want to know what tier of attire the host would like guests to attain. The host is spending time, effort and money planning the occasion/event, the very least attendees can do is follow the attire guideline the host offers. It doesn't matter if the requested attire is casual, black tie, costume or luau, I like to know the attire expectations so that I don't show up dressed completely inappropriately. (We all remember vicars and tarts scene in Bridget Jones' Diary.)

This does not mean that specifics are in order. Black tie does not mean, "A formal dress that costs more than $1,000, heels more than 2.5" in height, and jewelry and accessories procured at this list of retailers." Black tie means, "Dress up. Men wear a dark suit and tie, or a tux, and women wear a formal dress." Where that suit/tux and formal dress are procured and what it costs is up to the attendee. Taste is personal and subjective and not to be dictated.

I suspect the Cannes people want to keep the focus on the movies and want to maintain the idea of glamor in the film industry. Without attire guidelines the red carpets turn into arenas for attention a la Bjork's swan dress at the Oscars. I cannot remember what year that was or what movies won at that Oscar ceremony, but I remember Bjork's dress. I presume this is exactly what the Cannes people are trying to avoid. They want the event and the films to be the center of attention and not overshadowed by Bjork's swan dress or Gaga's meat dress.

2) I agree with the black shoes for men requirement. The men are required to wear a black tie appropriate suit, and that means black shoes. The Cannes people obviously want men to recede and women to exceed. The more sedate and monotone the men are dressed, the more the women will pop and shine in comparison. There's a whole truckload of gender inequality in that sentiment. I find it interesting men aren't more irate about this obvious case of female chauvinism. 

3) Heels over 2.5" does not automatically mean formal. I know shoes. I know shoes really, really well. I've perused a lot of women's shoes worn at Cannes and I've seen a lot of stripper shoes and hooker heels and some Eurotrashy numbers. But, they're heels, many of them appear to be in the 4" range, and thus accepted on the red carpet at Cannes. (The heels in the over 4" range tend to be the most questionable in terms of elegance.) Meanwhile, in other outposts on the internet, not on the red carpet at Cannes, I have seen some wonderfully elegant, tasteful and yes, classy, low-heeled or no-heeled shoes.

4) Some of us ladies would dearly love to strap on a pair of 4 inchers and head out to a movie premier at Cannes. But some of us have foot/ankle/knee/hip/back problems that prevent us from safely wearing heels over 2" in height. That does not mean that we are less worthy of admission to the event. It means we're either afflicted by a horrible ailment like rheumatoid arthritis, or that we were out there living life and had an unfortunate accident that left us with physical limitations.

5) Why isn't anyone saying anything about the irony of the three women in low heeled/flat shoes denied access to Carol, a film about lesbians? Not that there's anything wrong with that. And I certainly do not want to stereotype anyone, but, um, it's a film about lesbians. A group of people known the world over for their sensible footwear choices.

6) More to the point, Cannes people, what is the priority? Women wearing heels or women who are talented, creative or business savvy enough to score an invitation to Cannes?

That's the extent to which I am going to opine about shoes at Cannes.

Like many others, I see this as an opportunity to address the issue of gender inequality.

But I don't agree with making heels the bad guy in this.

Prior to my foot/ankle issues I loved heels. I wore heels a lot because I like them. Not because men found me more attractive in heels. Not because I felt that I needed to conform to the (male dominated) fashion industry. Not because I felt that I needed to conform to a sexually stereotyped image. And certainly not because I needed to add height to bring my physical stature closer to men. (At 5'11" I'm taller than a lot of men I encounter in business situations...add 3" - 4" heels and I am almost always taller than men in the office.) Don't blame Barbie. Don't blame my mother. Don't blame Vogue. I just happen to love heels. And then my foot and ankle were mangled, twisted and torn and that was the tragic end of my days and nights in heels. But it wasn't the end of the love affair. I still look at heels and even covet them. And then I go to work and devise strategies, plan, execute, create, manage, organize and make stuff happen brain to brain with men. My footwear is of zero consequence.

Heels are not the bad guy.

The bad guys are rigid, narrow-minded people with a skewed set of priorities, and who lack the ability to understand what class truly means.

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9:36 PM

Sunday, May 17, 2015  
So this year I finally did it. I put the kybosh on gift giving for good. I tried pre-empt Christmas gifts a few years ago and there was a lot of backlash, especially amongst my family. This time I did it 6 weeks prior to my birthday.

I sent another email to everyone with whom I normally exchange gifts for birthdays and holidays. It was similar to the one I sent prior to the holidays a few years ago, but, because it regarded my birthday, it didn't impact anyone but me and the results were very (very) different from my attempt to bow out of holiday gift giving.

I kept it brief and breezy:
“As much as I appreciate and enjoy your generous and thoughtful gifts, I'm hoping we can start new traditions. Instead of gifts, I would much prefer the gifts of time and connection. I would love to go to lunch or a museum with you, or just a long phone conversation with you is what I need and want more than gift. Or, spend the money you would have spent on a gift on planting a tree or a charity. Or buy something for yourself! It makes me happy to think of you splurging on something you would enjoy.”
 
Some of my friends responded immediately. They were clearly relieved to put an end to the gift giving. The first responders, obviously all of a like mindset, said something along the lines of, “Thank you for having the courage to do this, I’ve been trying to do the same thing with my family/other friends for years and I can’t get up the nerve to suggest it. I’m going to borrow your words to send to my family/friends.” 

Some of them elaborated, and shared perhaps a bit too much. It turned into a confessional for a few of them.  “Oh thank God. You are my hero. I’ve been trying to get out of a gift exchange with my sister-in-law for 15 years and have not been able to cut the cord. I’ve danced around the topic, but she doesn’t take the hint. She takes personal pride in gift giving. She thinks she gives really good, personal gifts, but she doesn’t. I send most of what she gives me to Goodwill. She gives nice - and usually expensive -  gifts, but they’re not my taste whatsoever. So then I feel obligated to reciprocate with a gift of equal value, and I really don’t have a good handle on her taste, so it feels like wasted money. I know a couple restaurants she likes and I’ve given her gift cards for those places, but then she goes on and on about how she takes so much time and pride in finding just the right and personal gifts for friends and family and I feel like heel for resorting to a gift card. The whole thing is a stress-inducing nightmare saga for me. I’m copying your email and sending it to her. Right after I have a couple drinks.”

From another friend:
“And that is how it’s done. Remember Kelly, my roommate in grad school? We’ve drifted apart over the past 10 years. But we always made a big deal about our birthdays so we keep sending each other birthday gifts, even though we haven’t actually seen each other in 11 years. We barely even talk to each other. Christmas gifts and birthday gifts are pretty much the only time we communicate with each other. It’s silly. And yet I feel guilty if I don’t send her something. Trill, I don’t know the slightest thing about her anymore. In her holiday card she mentioned a new job and longer commute, but I don’t even know where she was working before the ‘new’ job. In fact, I didn’t even know she was working! She quit after her second baby, I didn’t realize she’d gone back to work and then she’s telling me she started a new job with a longer commute. And yet every August I go shopping for a birthday present for her. I just find something I like and send it to her. I’m sure she probably re-gifts the presents I send her. This has to stop. I’m doing what you did with this email.”

And then…there were the others. The people, mostly family, who protested. “But Trill, we love giving you gifts.” 
 
Really? At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I have to ask why, if you love giving me gifts, I have received such memorable gifts as: a sweater shaver that was obviously regifted because the Christmas tag from the person who originally gave it to my sister-in-law is still on it; Bath and Body Works pre-packaged holiday gift sets in a weird fragrances from the same person for the past five years; a handbag that had obviously been used; an Omaha steak delivery from a cousin who knows darned well I’m a vegetarian (perhaps this is a “gag” gift, and it did make me gag); novelty socks in a child’s size…shall I continue?

I know, I know, it’s not the gift, it’s the thought that counts. But. Erm. Exactly what are the thoughts in the above mentioned gifts? Certainly not, “I care about you,” or “you’re special to me,” or even, “I saw this and thought of you.” Those gifts say, “It’s Christmas/your birthday and I am obligated to send you a gift, I found the fastest and first thing I could find and gave it to you.”

I’m about to show a side of me I don’t often show. It’s the evil Trillian, or, Trevil, as I call her.

Perhaps they object to discontinuing the gift-giving because they want to continue receiving the gifts I send them. Apart from a couple years when I was unemployed, I typically spend a decent amount of money on gifts for family and friends. I’m not saying I’m the best gift-giver ever, but I do spend a fair amount of time finding a gift that’s at least somewhat relevant to the recipients. And, I don’t take the cheapo way out by giving one gift for a husband/wife/kids unit. My brother, his wife and his daughter all receive individual gifts for holidays and birthdays. Yep. That’s three gifts I’m giving, while they’re giving only one to me. Not that I’m keeping score. But. Monetarily-wise most of my friends and family are coming out way, way ahead in the gift exchange with me. (I told you, Trevil is not nice, she can be petty and acrimonious.)

After many emails along the lines of, "No, no, really, there's nothing I need or want, spend the money on yourself or make a donation to a charity that's important to you," the subject subsided. 

And then my birthday rolled around. Please note, I spent the Sunday prior to my birthday with my mother and we had a Mother's Day/birthday dinner and gift exchange. My mother outdid herself this year.

On my actual birthday I received: a phone call from my mother, two happy birthdays in emails from friends.

I got exactly what I asked for: Nothing. 

Which is fine. I did not want gifts. 

And my birthday really is not a big deal to me. I really don't care about greetings. Truly. In spite of how this is probably sounding, I'd rather have silence than a perfunctory, "Happy birthday" from a friend or relative for whom the greeting is nothing more than something to cross off their daily to-do list.

However, this turned into an interesting social experiment. I requested no gifts, suggesting instead social outings or a phone call or that my friends and family spend the money on something for themselves or a charitable donation.
 
Most of my friends and family took this as a "Get Out of Trill's Birthday" pass. People who normally sent me gifts did absolutely nothing, no call, no card, not even texts. 
 
 One friend and my sister did send texts after my birthday, apologizing for the tardy greeting. 
 
It now poses somewhat of a conundrum for me. There are people, friends, family members, for whom I enjoy sending a birthday greeting. I like making birthday phone calls. But now I've painted myself into a socially awkward corner. If I don't send birthday cards/calls/texts to friends and family on their birthdays, will it look spiteful? The message being: "You didn't even send me a text on my birthday, so, even though I always call and send a card for your birthday, I'm giving you what you gave me: Nothing."  
 
Or, if I do send card/make calls will it look like I'm trying to play some guilt or superiority game?

9:16 PM

 
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