Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Monday, September 13, 2004
Friends. I've got some really good ones.
And I try to be a really good one.
They're important to me. I want to be important to them.
You get the idea. It's a basic concept. You probably have friends, too.
I don't have a lot of friends by some standards, but the friends I have are really, really good friends. People with whom I share a deep connection, understanding and bond. Without exception, my friends and I "clicked" instantly. It was friendship at first word. I have friends from all walks of life, from places scattered around the globe.
Next to HWNMNBS, my biggest disappointment in life is that the people I like, care about, yes, love, and want to spend time with are now thousands of miles away from me. That's how life is, now. People are traveling more and farther than ever. That's a good thing. But while we're out traveling the globe, taking jobs in far flung outposts and generally straying from our "homes," we're setting ourselves up for very painful goodbyes and loneliness when we eventually leave. I have had opportunities for extensive travel and have lived and worked in several countries. I don't regret one second of the time I've spent anywhere. I've had good times and bad times. I've met a lot of people and made some incredible friends.
Real, true friends.
Not acquaintances, not colleagues (though a few were colleagues), not people you know, not people thrown together by school, church or a volunteer project. Those situations can produce friends, but for me, the people in those situations are not friends. I'm friendly with them, they're friendly with me (usually) but they're not what I would consider friends.
I gauge it this way: When school, church, the volunteer project ends, will you see this person? Talk to them on the phone? Meet for coffee or drinks after work? Send them a card on their birthday? Go shoe shopping with them? A concert performance by your favorite band? Offer your spare bedroom when they have guests visiting from out of town? Give them money, food, shelter and clothing when they are downsized out of a job? If they were fired for a nasty scandal?
You're getting my point now, aren't you? There are certain people for whom you would do anything, no questions asked, no judgments made. And they'd do the same for you.
Everyone else falls into some other category, friendly, and maybe you even really like them, but they're not friends. They're people you know. Coworkers, co students, co parishoners, co volunteers. Acquaintances.
So what do you do when you realize someone considers you a friend and you don't consider them a friend?
New Girl at work (who's not so new anymore) referred to me as her friend.
I was stunned.
Don't get me wrong. I like New Girl. Even though she and (needs a new nickname) boss are very close in the office and out of it. Even though she has no clearly defined tasks or function in our office. Even though our paths rarely cross. Even though I don't think we have much in common.
I like her. She seems very nice. She's honest. There are signs of intelligent life living her office. She was the only one who understood and agreed with a few crucial points I made about a project from Hell.
I chat with her before and after meetings. I have learned she is trying to be a vegetarian, is very athletic and struggles with renting in this town, too.
She also cares about the Billboard Top 10, says "that's so funny" instead of actually laughing, and is barfly who at least one day a week shows up late (or not at all) due to a massive hangover.
That's pretty much all I know about her.
But I like her. As much as a person can like a coworker.
Coworker friendships are complex and potentially dangerous. I choose not to become very social with my coworkers. In my profession people "change jobs a lot." I've made some very, very good friends in previous jobs, only to be ripped far apart by lay offs, downsizings, corporate merges and life. You think you'll stay in touch, and you want to, you mean to, but in most cases you don't. Frankie was a coworker. Our friendship was destiny (star crossed, fated, meant to be) and survived three of those issues. Two other of my in it for the long haul friends were made in previous jobs. But in my current job I have made one friend who has long haul potential. And that's okay with me. I don't like these people and I don't seek or desire their affection beyond respect for our common goal of getting a job done.
I don't want to know details about their recent medical procedures, the argument they had with their mother/spouse/mechanic or that they had way too much to drink last night and can't make it into the office. I don't want to know intimate details of their lives. I have to work with them. I need to have as much professional respect as possible for them. It's important for the greater good. That goes for Sadie, which is why I got sick enough of the "maybe she's good in bed" comments to let my wicked imagination run wild, get it out of my system (and hopefully yours) and be done with ever thinking about Sadie's bedroom prowess. Boobjob and I have spent far too much time together outside of work for my liking. Of course I had to help her, defend her and otherwise deal with the repercussions of her implants, I mean, I'm not cruel, I would never let her suffer or be sexually harassed or leave her drunk in a public bathroom. But I'm not her friend. And she is not mine. When one of us quits our job we will say our good-byes and that will be the end of the relationship. Until then, yes, of course, if she needs help I'm here for her, and I assume she would do the same for me. Though what I would need her for I cannot say, nor can I honestly believe she would in fact, be there for me. I don't see a lot of personal integrity there. That's another blog.
But I don't care. She's not my friend. And therefore she is not capable of hurting me. Our strictly professional relationship was forced to endure some personal moments due to lack of judgment on her part. That's to be expected if you stick around a job long enough. But Boobjob and I didn't come through those personal moments with a deep understanding and compassion for each other. I did what I would hope anyone else would do for her and kept my mouth shut about it in the office. One woman, one human, helping another. Period. No love or friendship lost or gained.
Life at work goes on its regularly scheduled routine.
And then New Girl refers to me as her friend. In a non work capacity.
Here's what happened.
I was in exile Friday, working hard on a project and keeping a low profile. I needed a bunch of copies of a bunch of different documents. So I made a rare extended trip to the copier. New Girl's office is next to the copier. I passed by her office, ducked my head in and said, "Hi New Girl, how's it going?" in a very casual, don't really expect a detailed answer kind of way. She responded, "Hey! Okay! It's Friday! I'm going to see (a really horrid) concert tonight! I know, I'm lame, but I'm really excited!"
"You're not lame. You just have really bad taste in music." I said. Then added, jokingly, "There's a great show at (a small, rough, edgey club in her neighborhood) tomorrow night, you could expand your horizons and go see them."
"Really? You think I'd like them?"
(Pausing in reflection, imagining New Girl at a small, rough, edgey club listening to a live rock band.) "They do have three guitarists, and they don't really have any pop hooks in their songs, but if you want to get out of that plinky plink little pop world of yours, that's the place to go." I said in what I thought was an obvious sarcastic and friendly mocking tone.
"Maybe I'll get my friend to go with me."
(Now worried that she took me seriously, and wondering if she might in fact actually enjoy the band. realizing I needed to quickly qualify my earlier "joke.") "Welllll, it would be a big departure from (the really horrid) concert you are seeing tonight. I'm not kidding, they have three guitarists," was my parting shot, which I thought would drive the point home.
And off I went to make copies.
While assembling multiple reports, I heard the following conversation from New Girl's office.
New Girl: "Hey, Amy, my friend Trillian just told me about a show at (small club in my neighborhood) tomorrow night. Do you want to go?"
"I don't know, I've never heard of them, but my friend Trillian knows about them and she thinks I might like them."
(me, thinking: "Wow. I had no idea she'd take me so seriously." And "friend?!")
"I'm not sure, probably not til late." pauses, "Hey, Trill, what time do you think they'll start tomorrow?" she yelled from her office to me in the copy area.
(me, pulled from my reverie) "Who?"
"(really good band)."
"Oh, um, probably 10 or 11." And, thinking, "friend?!")
I gathered my copies and slunk back to exile in my office (oooooh, really good band name!)
"Friend?" "My friend Trillian?"
When did that happen?
Like I said, I like her, but I certainly don't consider her a friend. I certainly would not suggest that she go to the show with me, or utter "maybe I'll see you there" or that we're such friends that my opinion should play any role in her weekend plans.
I reviewed our interaction and conversations over the past few months. (Because I do nothing but introspect, about everything these days.)
At no time that I could recall did I ever give any signal that I might be anything more than a coworker. I'm sorry if she read more into it, but the bottom line, after much thought, is: No. We are not friends. We are friendly, but we are not friends.
The more I thought about this, the more I resented the liberties taken with our relationship and with my feelings for her. I resent that the liberties she's taking with my feelings toward her are causing me to feel guilty. Which means if a friendship were ever to develop between us, now, after this, I will question whether it's merely out of guilt because she thinks I'm her friend. I don't mind that she called me her friend, I guess, really, but I do mind if she thinks I will be extending friendship duties outside of the office. A more appropriate phrasing would have been, "This chick at work said there's a band at a small, rough, edgey club tomorrow night."
How did I reach this conclusion?
By reviewing the benchmarks in friendship and coming up dry.
Maybe you think you have friends. Maybe you do. I have some really swutting amazing friends. I'm lucky. I've never asked for proof or validation of their friendship, yet I've been given it repeatedly. This qualifies me to detail some friendship benchmarks.
Do You Have Friends?
Answer these questions yes or no to find out if you have friend or if you are a friend.
Have you or has anyone you know ever:
Stayed up all night in person or on the phone listening to minutia about a new boy/girlfriend, a breakup with said boy/girlfriend, an incident at work or family issues?
Refrained from making obvious comments about someone's boy/girlfriend/spouse who is a jerk/loser/emotional abuser or who has really horrid taste in music/clothing/television/hobbies?
Disliked someone, maybe even banished them to the hottest corner of Hell, based solely on something they did/said to someone you know?
Brought Entenmann's, ice cream, alcohol or medication (as the situation requires) to a person other than a blood relation?
Taken away Entenmann's, ice cream, alcohol or medication (as the situation requires) from a person other than a blood relation for their greater good?
Refrained from drinking alcohol because someone else is on a much needed bender and requires supervision?
Been on a much needed bender and had someone remain sober to supervise you?
Uttered the words, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this. You need new shoes/tools/music/sporting goods. I know where there's a sale. I'll pick you up in 30 minutes."?
Uttered the words, "Your bum looks great in those trousers/jeans." to someone other than a boy/girlfriend/spouse/potential sex partner?
Traveled long distances to "be there" for someone without thinking or caring about the time, money and hassle involved?
Given an honest, frank and probably difficult assessment of a situation, dilemma or article of clothing while maintaining sympathy, respect and appropriate sensitivity to the subject and only when asked? (Meaning, without a cutting remark or joke)
Helped someone move house? Without being asked or paid?
Gone with someone other than a blood relative or spouse to an emergency room, doctor's office, dentist's office or lawyer?
Been with someone other than a blood relative or spouse while they have their pet put to sleep?
Happily (attitude is the key here) allowed someone's dog to jump on/lick//drool on/sniff you? (Quadruple yes if you hate or are afraid of dogs.)
Happily (attitude is the key here) allowed someone's cat to kiss/rub on/pounce on/paw/snuggle/ignore you? (Quadruple yes if you hate or are afraid of cats.)
Happily (attitude is the key here) babysat children on a Saturday night so their mum/dad/parents could have a night out?
Listened, profoundly interested, to details of potty training, lost teeth, whatever "cute" thing someone else's children/pets did?
Given money or a night out or otherwise paid for something for someone else without any expectation or desire to be paid back or reciprocated?
Gone to a concert, play, movie, book signing, Star Trek convention with someone other than another big fan of the band, actor, author or fellow Trekkie?
Been asked to, and then happily (attitude is the key here) worn really horrid attire in public, maybe even in a church, at a wedding?
Happily (attitude is the key here) spent insane amounts of money on said horrid attire, accoutrements, gifts and travel to remote corners of the world to be in/at a wedding?
Done anything you would normally consider a sacrifice, pain in the bum, or stupid without thinking twice or considering it a sacrifice, pain the bum or stupid?
Laughed so hard liquid (milk, pop, wine, martini, salad dressing) comes out your nose?
Laughed so hard your knees go weak and your stomach aches?
Cried out of pain and empathy for what someone else is going through?
Held and cried with someone other than a blood relation or girl/boyfriend/spouse?
Not been able to sleep until you get the call or email someone other than a blood relation is home safely?
Shared a bed with someone other than a blood relative or sexual partner?
Been a professional reference for someone whom you do not know in a professional capacity?
Called just to say hi. Really just to say hi. Period.
If you answered "Yes, I've done that!" to at least 10 of the above, you are a friend. Good for you. Go to the head of the class. If you answered, "Yes, I know someone who's done that, for me!" to at least 10 of the above, congratulations, you have a friend. You are lucky. Be sure to thank and appreciate your friend(s). If you answered "no, I've never done that" to more than 10 of the above, you are not a friend. If you answered, "no one's ever done that for me" you do not have a friend. Get out there and cultivate a friendship. Do at least 10 of the above for one person you care about who is not your boy/girlfriend/spouse/blood relative. Someone outside of work. You and your new friend will be better, happier people. And do not make assumptions or take liberties with your co workers, co students, teammates, churchmates or that guy you doled out pretzels and toothbrushes with at the shelter three months ago. If they do not fall into the 10 or more group, they are not your friends and don't consider them as such. If you want to be friends with them, don't start the relationship by making assumptions and causing guilt. (To anyone just dying to know how inappropriate my Friday jeans and sandals were, see Saturday's Come Here! I Want to Show You Something! post. You can't really see the purple haze pedicure (I changed it Saturday, so Sunday's posts show off a cajun shrimp pedicure))
