Trekkychick

Dear Readers,

Have you ever been given bad advice? For example, when you had the hiccups, somebody advised you to hold your breath until they stopped, and you passed out? And then, when you came to, you were STILL hiccuping?? (Um, me neither. That never happened to me either.)

A person who gives bad advice is known as an A.S.S. (Advice that Sucks Specialist). It is bad enough to be the recipient of suggestions given by an A.S.S. It is much worse to live with the knowledge that there are A.S.S.es out there giving bad advice, and profiting from it.

Luckily I am in the T.A.G.* (Terrific Advice Giver) program and I give really excellent advice. For example, just tonight, as a good friend bemoaned his single life while driving me back to my apartment after a movie, I assured him that life in the single lane (which means if you use the left carpool lane during peak traffic hours, you’ll be ticketed) is far superior to codependent coupledom.

As a T.A.G. member, I was eager to dispense my advice to my forlorn friend. “Look at it this way,” I told him, “in the long run, there’s really no difference between a single person and a person in a relationship. In a relationship, there are one of three possible inevitable conclusions. One, a break-up. Two, marriage and subsequent divorce. Three, death. See? When you look at it that way, there’s really no reason to be sad; we’re all going to end up single anyway!”

I’m not sure what my friend thought of my helpful advice, because he opened the car door and flung himself out into the road. I hope he’s okay. More importantly, though, if he is okay, I hope he doesn’t seek advice from an A.S.S. Only qualified advice givers (T.A.G.s) such as myself can be trusted to cheer up the lonely singles out there.

For more advice, please visit my website. Wait, if you’re reading this, you’re already there.

-Troi out

*The university from which Troi received her T.A.G. licensure and certification was unable to be verified and her T.A.G. degree was not available for review at the time of this blog posting.

Dear Loyal Blog Readers,

It is most unfortunate that it has recently come to light that upon our breakup, The Ex missed my blogs so much that he hired a private investigator to seek out my new site. The private investigator, backed by years of training at private investigator college earning his private investigation degree cleverly typed into google the code words “Coolest blog site ever!” and, obviously, the first search result linked him directly to my site.

However, having been discovered as such by The Ex, it is no longer prudent to discuss The Ex nor draw attention to The Ex’s decision to Ax me the first time, nor his decision to Ax me the second time. Therefore, all further blogs will contain no negative statements regarding the opposite sex, or anything else for that matter, and will discuss only happy things, such as butterflies and puppies.

Butterflies are beautiful winged insects who flit gaily through the sky until they are smashed by a windshield. Those who manage to avoid the windshield will fly happily through the sky until they are captured by the hands of a small human child, whose excessive touching will remove some of the tiny scales and damage the important veins that assist in the butterfly’s flight. The beautiful butterfly will be permanently wounded and unable to fly again. EVER.

Speaking of wonderfully happy things, puppies are also happy. They are energetic, innocent animals that bring much joy to our lives until they are spotted outside without their collars and whisked away to the pound, where at least 60% of them will be euthanized.

Well, loyal readers, I sure hope you enjoyed reading this positively uplifting blog post as much as I enjoyed writing it! It feels awfully good to write about only happy things! Please stay turned for my next cheerful and optimistic blog post: “Death and Destruction: How Close Is It REALLY?”

–Troi out

Now you have a new reason to drag your kids kicking and screaming away from their perch in front of the X-Box. A recent study correlates endless hours of mind-numbing computer gaming with, can you believe it, three personality traits associated with Aspergers syndrome, a type of high-functioning autism. These traits are neuroticism, lack of extraversion, and lack of agreeableness. And while the researchers wouldn’t go so far as to label these gamers as having Aspergers syndrome, they do contend that the game addicts “share some of the same characteristics because they find it easier to empathize with computer systems than other people.”

I couldn’t agree more. Thank goodness this problematic behavior is confined to gamers. People such as myself never have to worry about such neurotocism or introverted behavior. Why, it’s not as if I refuse to board a plane because I’m convinced it will crash, nor that my cell phone is currently ringing but I have no plans to answer it because I prefer to continue chatting with my friends via instant messaging. And people like me most certainly don’t suffer from a lack of agreeableness. Quite the opposite, I find that I agree with myself nearly always, and when I program my computer accurately, it agrees with me too. (”Good morning, Troi! You’ve got mail, because you’re so popular! And you’re always right!”)

All kidding aside (my computer doesn’t REALLY say that when I log on–a well-programmed computer never patronizes its user), couldn’t it be said that, generally speaking, computer systems are easier to empathize with than people? Particularly of the opposite gender? My computer is here every night when I get home from work and it’s always willing to communicate the day’s news with me. It takes but a minute to turn it on and it stays on as long as I need it. My computer doesn’t quit working two weeks after our first encounter, and when it’s ready to quit for good, it sends plenty of warning messages*. Can human contact begin to compare with such reliability??

*I have a mac. I cannot speak for PCs but I hear they’re less reliable, like men.

The study I read goes on to state that “there is a scale along which people…can be placed upon…..and that people such as engineers, mathematicians and computer scientists are nearer to the non-empathizing, systemizing, end of the spectrum.”

I like to call this God’s way of balancing the universe. The way I see it, engineers, mathematicians, and computer scientists got all of the brains, so they had to be shorted elsewhere. A deficiency in emotional intelligence for these folks was the only way to equalize the universe so that it wouldn’t collapse upon itself. Therefore, God created two kinds of humans: People who are highly intelligent but who cannot relate to other people, and stupid people who are popular.

When these two strains of human mate, there is born a third type of human: The Average Joe. Due to the high instances of breeding that have taken place since the beginning of time, most existing humans are a hybrid of smart and stupid that embodies the classic Average Joe.

So as you reflect upon this important study, take a good look at yourself and discern into which breed you fall. Are you a gamer? Or do you have stellar social skills? Or are you good at nothing in particular? If you find that you fall into the third category, don’t despair. Simply program your computer to compliment you daily when you turn it on. You probably don’t know how, but call a gamer and ask for his programming assistance. Just don’t mate with him.

*As always, Troi would like to point out that she does not believe what she writes, nor write what she believes.

–Troi out

p.s. Thanks for the link, e. Lucas. I don’t think you act like you have Aspergers. Keep playing those computer games.

My friends recently held an intervention for me. They believed that after my last relationship I had become unfairly hostile and jaded toward the opposite sex, and that I had allowed one bad experience to color my view of all members of the male species who currently, and will ever at any point in time, exist in the universe. I looked with disdain on all females who dared to attempt to partake in a real relationship with a man and especially my fallen friends (those who married).

I had become a Dater Hater.

Have you ever found that a single bad experience tempts you to make generalizations you shouldn’t, flinging stereotypes you don’t actually even believe? For example, just this morning a car with a Bush/Cheney bumper sticker cut me off in traffic and the next thing I knew, I was fuming about the bad driving habits of all Republicans EVERYWHERE.

This is what Dater Haters do with men. We allow the way a single man once treated us to dictate the way we view men everywhere. As a recovering Dater Hater, I think that we do this because we think that if we despise the collective man, we will not actually open our hearts to one again, thus avoiding all future possibility of being hurt.

A Dater Hater takes skepticism to new heights, taking it as a certainty that any gestures of kindness from the opposite sex are fraught with underlying motives. Even in the midst of a Dater Hater’s failed attempts to uncover the man’s dishonest motives, she will remain convinced his gesture is not genuine.

The following transcript exposes the typical dynamics between a Dater Hater and a member of the male species.

Male Species: We should go on a date sometime.

Dater Hater: What’s a date? Is that where we go to your friend’s house and drink beer?

Male Species: We go out, to a nice restaurant. I pay.

Dater Hater: Wendy’s?

Male Species: No, a nice restaurant.

Dater Hater: I don’t get it. What’s the catch? What do you get out of it?

Male Species: Um, nothing. I just thought it would be nice to take you on a date.

Dater Hater: I see right through you. Stop messing with my head.

Male Species: No really, I promise, I don’t have ulterior motives. I just would like to take you on a nice date.

Dater Hater: Am I on Candid Camera?

If you notice a striking resemblance between this dialogue and a dialogue you have recently had, you may be classified as being on the Dater Hater spectrum. And while Hating Dating is a reasonable response to any painful relationship-breakup experience, it also blinds the Dater Hater to those members of the male species who actually know how to treat women. As a recovering Dater Hater, I assure fellow Dater Haters that those decent members of the male species still exist.

And if you’re not ready to find them, join your local breakup sects chapter.

–Troi out

In a conversation with several married friends this past Saturday, one was recalling a Cereal Date she had back in college with her then boyfriend (now husband).

You may be asking the same thing I did on Saturday: What is a Cereal Date?

Well, my friend explained, during the first few summers of their relationship, she and her boyfriend lived several hours apart. So they would schedule long-distance Cereal Dates, at which time both would eat a bowl of cereal, in their respective cities, at the exact same time.

My friend’s then-boyfriend once went to a movie with his sister that conflicted with one such scheduled Cereal Date. He had to leave the theater and return home to eat cereal. By the time he returned to the theater, the credits were rolling, and to this day he still doesn’t know who the spy who shagged Austin Powers was.

One of my best friends and her now-husband were similarly ridiculous as Young Lovers* back in college. They didn’t eat cereal together, but they were compelled to stay up all night long, night after night, in the dorm “common area,” where they cuddled. Being a night owl at the time, I would frequently pass by the common area and find them on the couch, silent, almost catatonic. At times I thought they were dead. But, somehow, they found sleeplessness in close proximity to be more tolerable than falling asleep in distant dorms nearly 30 yards apart.

*I use this term loosely as they were in love but not actually lovers until the sacred rite of marriage had ensued.

Distance can be painful when you’re a Young Lover** and while I went to great lengths to mock my friend on Saturday, I now would like to rescind all grief I gave her, and promote this idea of a Cereal Date to bring distant lovers together, if not physically, then physiologically through the digestive process. However, I would like to ensure that I fully grasp the concept of a Cereal Date before advocating the notion on the internet.

**I use this term loosely again.

I pose five questions that must be investigated prior to implementing long-distance Cereal Dates. I will wait until I receive responses to each question from my friend the Cereal Dater, and will then post a follow up lesson on the official Cereal Date Policy as it currently stands.

Dear Young Lover*** Maria,

***Now that you’re over 30, do I still call you “young?”

5. If I am having a Cereal Date with my long-distance Lover, do we each need to be eating the same kind of cereal? What if I am eating honey-nut cheerios and my long-distance lover is allergic to peanuts? Can he eat original low-sugar cheerios? Can he eat the generic brand “O’s”?

4. If I discover that my long-distance Lover was eating cereal on our Cereal Date while another person was in the kitchen, do I consider him to be cheating on me?

3. Can I have a Cereal Date with Quaker Instant Oatmeal?

2. If I’m eating my cereal in a ceramic bowl with real silverware, and my long-distance Lover is using a disposable plastic bowl and plastic silverware, does that indicate I’m investing more than he is in the relationship?

1. If I use soy milk in my cereal, and my long-distance Lover uses regular milk, does this mean we’re not compatible?

Thank you, Readers, for going on this thought-provoking Cereal Date journey with me. I look forward to providing you with a conclusion to Cereal Dating in my next post.

–Troi out