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 22, 2004
I'm home, but the legacy of my life on the road lingers. Anyone who travels for business may know what I mean. When you're away from home, but working, there's this weird sort of feeling. A life in limbo feeling. It's not vacation, but you're away from home. It's work, but you're not in the office. This sets you up for an even weirder feeling when you return home and back to the office. You've been away but not on vacation. You have loads of laundry to do and there's nothing to eat. Just like when you come home from vacation. But. You haven't been on vacation. You've been working. If you're like me, you've been working 14 - 16 hour days, nonstop. So no, it's not been a vacation and you certainly don't feel like you've been on vacation. Yet there are the tell tale signs that you've been gone. The aforementioned laundry and food. Your pet is really, really mad at you. There's loads of mail to go through. Yet you're tired, you're cranky, you're heaving your suitcase into a corner because you have to dash and call the office and a client or two because, after all, you're working. To anyone who doesn't travel for business, it may look exciting, perhaps even fun. A change in routine, out of the office, "getting to fly and stay in nice hotels and all that." I suppose, yes, it might seem that way. But one real, bona fide business trip convinces most people that it's not exciting, fun or least of all, glamorous. It's tedious. It's tiring. It's long, long hassle filled days. Yes, yes, yes! I myself have enjoyed the reprieve from my boss and the nefarious creatures with whom I am forced to spend my days in the office. The past weeks have reminded me that I do actually like my job. It's the people with whom I work I don't like. No, not an epiphany, I already knew that, but being away from them, being out on the road doing my job and not worrying about boob jobs or men's rooms or IRA sympathizers or a woman who speaks in an untranslatable language cleared my head enough to regain perspective on what I do for a living and why I do it.
Not that I want to continue life on the road. Because weighing up the pros and cons, what I want, what I need, is a job doing what I do but without as much travel and with a better, more professional group of coworkers. The reprieve from travel was really nice. Really, really nice. I got out of the habit of business travel. Thanks to my ankle I got out of a lot of business trips, but I've milked that for all I can and now it's back on the road. And now I am dealing with Post Business Trip Syndrome.
Sunburn acquired through tights while working a fundraiser in Florida: Evolved to that disgusting shedding state by my second night in LA, where I was referred to several specialists, and then opted for "treatment" at the hotel spa. This stopped the shedding, but, um, well, my legs feel weird when I touch them. I attempted to shave them the other night and I found myself being, erm, well, aroused. This concerns me. While not an unpleasant feeling, it's one I'd rather not experience while shaving my legs.
Skewed fashion perspective: Okay! I admit it! Sometimes when in Rome one must behave like the Romans. I completely agree with blending in, nothing worse than a business traveler who looks like a tourist. They are easy marks for crime, among other things. And sometimes you pack hastily and neglect to bring enough or appropriate clothing for every function you are required to attend. And sometimes your suitcase is lost, damaged and otherwise maligned and some of your clothes arrive (if they arrive at all) soiled from being spewed throughout various baggage areas. Okay! I caved under the pressure! I went shopping in Florida and LA and acquired some less than Trillian esque clothing. A few items of which are in pastel hues. One particular item has flowers adorning it. It looked really cute and appropriate at the brunch reception on the deck overlooking the ocean. Now. Here. In Chicago. It's less than fetching. But still in my business trip stance, still half in LA, I donned the top and went to work as if it were absolutely normal for me to wear a pink top with flowers around the neckline. It seemed normal to me. And that's my point. The mindset, the when in Rome outlook lingers even after you've returned home. It will take a week or so for me to realize this top isn't me, that it isn't Chicago, and it certainly isn't me in Chicago. But for now it still seems normal and I still like it. And besides, I haven't paid for all of it yet.
Credit card bills: The business trip hangover. Traveling's expensive. Hotel, rental cars, business meals at really pricey restaurants (where no food is actually ingested), meals where food is then actually ingested, purchasing items lost or forgotten when packing the office for the road trip (try to find an Office Max when you are in the middle of the desert. I dare you. Shopping and spa treatments to kill time between work and work. There's an otherworldliness to traveling on business. You're working. You're working really long hours. You feel like you are working 24/7 (in my case that's actually true, like a brain surgeon or military general, I am on call and at anyone's beck 24/7 while on site for business. Emergencies arise, you know, like making sure a certain spokesperson has the right sort of bottled water.) right. You're working a lot. You're not on your usual schedule. You're not doing things you normally do. You're staying at a really nice hotel. You might even be driving a really nice car. You forget that you will not be reimbursed for everything. Like, for instance, that insane charge from a boutique named Merde Sainte. You think it's a mistake. You think your credit card number has been stolen. You demand a refund from your credit card company. They email you a copy of the signed receipt. "Forgery!" you claim, though you admit it's a very good forgery. You then read the detail on the receipt. "One pink top with flowers, very out of character for the purchaser but will look divine at that brunch reception on a deck overlooking the ocean." And then you wonder if you can justify this as an business expense. Because you would never, ever normally spend THAT kind of money on a slip of a top, a pink top, no less. Adorned with flowers. And besides, if you're going to be made to stay in very swank and posh luxury suites in very swank and posh hotels and drive very swank cars you can't wear just any old thing.
Receipts: When traveling for business, I have learned, the hard way, to get a receipt for everything. Everything. Period. It is engrained in me, etched into my fiber. When I make that final business trip in the sky, I am certain my dying words will be, "May I please have a receipt?" And yes, yes, yes! For general life and personal reasons, it's always a good idea to get a receipt. But. In real life, as opposed to business travel life, I am not concerned about getting a receipt for a bottle of water and breath mints procured at the local convenience emporium. Nor do I keep the receipt of transaction at the ATM beyond balancing by checking account (as if I do that on any regular basis, but I always think I will, I always intend to do it...) But on business those receipts matter. A lot. ATM fees are unbelievable. I was charged a $5 transaction fee at an ATM in LA. I didn't have time (or inclination) to chase down a lower fee (or free) ATM. And I am not paying $5 out of my pocket because I needed cash to tip a bunch of catering staff. I have a nifty little pouch/folder thing I use when traveling on business in which I keep all my receipts, separated by day. I also have a nightly, just before bed ritual of recording every expense on a traveling expense form. Yes. I even numerically correlate the receipts to the expense item. I told you, years of business travel have taught me to do these things. What seems obvious to you when in a situation on a business trip will not be obvious (or necessary) to an account manager back in the office. Especially if she doesn't get out much and spends her days processing business expense reports for people who travel the world over racking up a lot of expenses in very exotic seeming locations. It takes me several weeks to forget I am not traveling on business and therefore do not require a receipt for everything I purchase.
Housekeeping issues: I am not the sort of person who is comfortable leaving towels on any floor. Even if it's the expected norm. Even if there's a discreet little sign telling me to leave used towels on the bathroom floor as a signal for housekeeping. However. I do become quickly and easily accustomed to returning to my room to find the bed made, bathroom cleaned and the room otherwise tidied. It will take me a full two or three weeks to realize I don't actually have housekeeping staff in my apartment. For the next two weeks, every time I walk into my apartment after work, I will be surprised to see used towels and clothes precisely where I left them and the bed unmade. Funny, though, I don't feel the slightest need to leave a tip for housekeeping. Of course in the case of my apartment I wouldn't tip for such lousy service.
Television: I do not have a television in my bedroom. Nor do I have movie channels or pay per view. I do not want any of these things. When I travel I rarely utilize any of these things. But for some reason, when I return home I am surprised to discover I don't have movie channels or pay per view (or even cable).
Don't get me wrong. It's not as if I feel like some spoiled princess who now must adjust to her means. It's not as if I yearn for a posh suite or stylin' ride or housekeeping service. Seriously. I don't. I'm really glad to be home (true, I wish it were a nicer home) with Furry Creature and my regularly scheduled life (as pathetic as it seems to me at times) it's just that part of me still feels like I'm away. It's because I was away on business. I was working. A lot. Just in a place other than my office. So it's not that "I've been away on holiday" feeling. It's the "I've been working my arse off" feeling.
I mention all of this for the benefit of anyone who doesn't travel for business and is resentful of the people in their office who do. Yes, there are people who take advantage of the situation, I know it to be true. However, for the most part, if you ask anyone who travels more than a few days a year for business, they will tell you it's no posh holiday. Both while away and the week following the return, it's stressful and does things to your psyche. It can really mess up your life.
Cut them some slack when they return to the office. Remember, they've been working, not on vacation. They've probably been working much longer hours than usual. They've probably got a mountain of laundry to do. They've probably got an enormous credit card bill looming which is keeping them awake nights. They've probably got to deal with statements like, "You were right there in Florida, you should have gone up to see their studio..." because, yeah, they had so much spare time they could have driven 2 and a half hours each way to see a studio. They are trying to maintain tactful composure and not go into a rage at these sort of statements made by people who couldn't be bothered to spend as much as a day out of the office and on location. When you were living your life, going through your routine, going to your gym, spending the evening in with your pet and your girl/boyfriend all cozy on your couch watching your favorite movie eathing your favorite Chinese take away, they were working long hours, dealing with airports, rental car companies, demanding clients, idiot onsite staff, smiling and making polite conversation through meals at restaurants with "interesting" cuisine and calling the office every hour to manage the work they would be doing if they were in the office because no one "back there" is taking care of their work while they are gone.
Oh yes. The glamorous life of the business traveler.
