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
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
The year 1513.
It's Spring.
You're Ponce de Leon.
You're looking for the fountain of youth.
You discover Florida.
And that was the beginning of the Florida Spring break tradition.
The thing is, Ponce de Leon (Juan) didn't hang around to see what happens in Florida after May.
Fountain of youth? Cesspool of démodé, more like.
If Juan had seen Miami, the Keys or any other part of Florida between May and October, he never would have admitted to finding anything but lots of water.
Why? Because no one would want to go down in history as discovering the Fountain of Bad Hair Days. The Fountain of Pores Opened So Wide They are Craters. The Fountain of Heat and Humidity the Likes of Which are Unsafe for Humans.
Okay. Okay.
Maybe I'm exaggerating a little.
Very little.
But I have never been so happy to leave a place as I was to get out of Florida in June.
I can sum up the past week in one sentence: I got the worst sunburn I've ever had on my shins while wearing SPF 20 and hose.
At 6:30 PM.
Okay. That's one sentence and a qualifying statement.
Still.
It was very, very hot. And very, very humid.
I have good hair. Really good hair. And pretty darned good skin, too.
Unfortunately I don't have good hair or skin for that climate.
No one does.
Alligators. Flamingos. Orchids.
They thrive in Florida.
Exotic? Sure. But think about it: Reptiles, really weird birds and hothouse flowers.
That should tell us enough.
Danger. Go back. Strangers will die. Redrum.
But instead people settled there. Actual people. People whose DNA was never meant to withstand such heat and humidity and environment.
And the retirement and tourism industries were born thanks to what had to be some very, very good marketing.
I was dreading this trip, but mainly because of the long days involved with my work.
Oh sure, I knew it would be hot and humid. I have been in Florida in the Summer. I knew it was going to be uncomfortable. But I thought, "I'll be in a hotel, an air conditioned car, in the shade...the shoots aren't until evening and night..."
The absolute worst part? Trying to dress professionally in that heat. The only hair option is the Robert Palmer Girl Band Slick Back. This is not a look I usually sport. This is not generally a good look for me. Or anyone else. But in Florida there is really no other option if a girl wants to try to maintain some semblance of a look other than frizzed out hairball the cat threw up three days ago or so heavily hair sprayed a hurricane wouldn't move it. Aqua Net takes up more shelf space in several stores in Florida than any other hair styling product - at first I thought it was because of the average age of the women there. Now I know it's because it's the only way to cement hair into place, no matter your age. Robert Palmer Girl Band Slick Back it was. Make up? HA! You're kidding, right? Even if you apply it in the cool comfort and safety of an air conditioned bathroom, at some point you will have to go outside. Even if it's just from the hotel lobby to the valeted car, those few minutes in that heat and humidity of south Florida will not only reduce even the most lightly and carefully applied make up to a mass of molten goo, pores will open so wide they will suck in and devour any make up which doesn't landslide off your face. Dewey finish my arse. It's sweat and make up combining to create a mini Pompeii right there on your face.
Uncomfortable? Ugly? Unpleasant to even imagine?
Now add suits, hose and heels to the hair and make up picture I've just painted.
I noticed a lot of women skip the hose.
Ladies, I understand. I really do. And most of you have tanned and toned legs which in any other outfit would be attractive. But in a business suit (usually pastel or brightly colored, rarely black or navy on natives, again, for good reason...but...) and heels you just look cheap and slutty. Sorry. You just do. So do I. So I wear hose. It's no coincidence hemlines didn't really edge to the knee or above until the advent of sheer pantyhose. Because women look cheap and slutty when they wear nice skirts or dresses with bare legs and heels.
And some of us, some of us who are really, really, really white, some of us who do not tan, some of us who suffer near third degree burns while wearing SPF 20 and hose, look really, really horrible in our bare legs. Extra in an Anne Rice adaptation horrible. Some of us were never meant to spend time in Florida. Some of us have DNA which requires us to stay above 50 degrees latitude for maximum efficiency. Some of us hate our jobs even more than we already did because we were required to go to Florida in June.
And for this I blame Ponce de Leon.
All of it. Miami, the Keys, Spring Break, tights, Aqua Net, Robert Palmer Girl Band hair, sunburn, all of it. It's all his fault.
