If there were ever a more important time to network, I can’t remember it. I’ve been to so many going-away parties in the last few weeks that I’m starting to wonder what I’m still doing here. People who thought they’d played it professionally safe — bankers, lawyers, significant others of bankers and lawyers — are suddenly finding themselves among the nation’s growing jobless. And even those who remain gainfully employed are hoarding their cash, certain they’ll be the next to go.

So we young people do what any sane person would do: We spin the old mental Rolodex. We note all the people who don’t hate us and might be of some use. And then we send messages that read something like this:

Hey, Person I Need!

Long time no talk! How are you?! Sorry I haven’t written you in 17 years — boy have I been busy — but here’s some contrived anecdote to show I’ve been thinking about you. Thought you’d like to hear these few random things that are going on with me, too. Oh, by the way, I was thinking you could hire me/refer me/help me in some other way I’ve been generous enough to dream up for you. And since I’m sure you’re dying to read my resume, it’s attached. Totally can’t wait to catch up!

Sincerely,

Most Transparent Jobseeker Ever

If that sounds extreme, believe me, it’s not. I have, in fact, received a number of notes not unlike this myself in recent weeks. And for the record, it isn’t that I wouldn’t be happy to help if I could. It’s just that the approach is so completely disingenuous that it’s actually detrimental to the person’s cause. (And we Yers tend to be more prone to it because of our sometime lack of social graces, the quick and familiar way we communicate, and the broad if not deep virtual networks we’re able to maintain.)

As understandable — and essential — as the urge to work one’s connections is in times like these, there’s still an art to doing it. It’s rooted in basic common sense and good manners, and it applies in every situation, whether you’re sending an e-mail, Facebook message, smoke signal, singing telegram, or (gasp) letter. So, in the interest of maintaining our networking dignity, here are a couple suggestions for reaching out the right way…

1. Be honest — no, really. It’s important that any networking note we write contains the usual niceties (a “hope you’re doing well,” and some punctuation, for example), but don’t overdo it. When we try too hard to be all “great”s and giggles — especially in an attempt to obscure the fact that we want something — it usually has just the opposite effect. Not only does it draw attention to our self-serving motives, it can also be fairly insulting to the intelligence of the recipient. Why not, instead, try telling the truth? “I know it’s been a long time,” you might say, “but I recently started looking for a new job and, since you’re one of the people who’s offered help in that arena over the years, I thought I’d check in.” (And if the person’s a legitimate friend, a light-hearted nod to the awkwardness often diffuses any tension: “I’m so sorry you’re only hearing from me now, when I need you, but I hope you won’t hold it against me forever.”) It’s nothing revolutionary, but with trust in short supply these days, a little sincerity goes a very long way.
2. Ask for advice, not a gig. It’s never really proper to ask for a job outright unless you’re in an actual interview. But with the job market in the state it is, and everyone worried about their own job, it’s particularly poor form right now. Some people may not even respond to you if they feel pressured to produce a possible job or broker an introduction, so focus your energy on seeking out good advice, insights, and resources. If, for instance, there’s a job you’re interested in at an acquaintance’s company, write to ask what s/he thinks of the department, not to look for the hookup. This tack is flattering — after all, who doesn’t like the idea that their perspective might be valuable? — and it puts you in the positive light of a potential protégé or close colleague, someone that your contact may think of (fondly, and maybe even first) should a job prospect arise. This way, if they have a post or person to share with you, they can do so on their own terms. And if all they have to give you is a few words of wisdom, at least they know that’s worthwhile to you, too.
3. Do not attach your resume. And for that matter, don’t attach any other representations of your wonderfulness that are likely to lock up people’s inboxes, even if you’re sure they like you. Not only can it seem presumptuous, it also looks a bit desperate. Even if you’re posting to a group of friends about your job search, it’s much more effective (not to mention safer) to just include a few sentences about what you’re looking for and what you’ve done, rather than giving them your entire work history, which they’re not likely to read anyway. As a rule, re-establish contact first, then ply with documents.
4. Facebook doesn’t change anything. In our age of social networking, it can be tempting to use the relaxed attitude of tools like Facebook to take the work out of networking. It’s so easy now to just “friend” a person you haven’t talked to in years — without so much as a, “Remember me from high school?” — then hit them with the old, “I really love your company, so…” But take it from me, that isn’t going to be received any better by a Facebook friend than it would be by anyone else. Even on the Web, people know when they’re being used, and they don’t like it. So apply the same amount of courtesy and concern there as you would everywhere else.
5. Show a little gratitude. Remember that everyone, from the C-suite all the way down, is under pressure right now. So thank them for their time, and if they make an effort to respond, even if they don’t say much, realize it means something — and say so. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it fosters a continuing relationship. We’re so connected, and it’s so easy to maintain those connections in today’s world, that there really is no excuse not to build and nurture as many substantive relationships as you can. (And just to be clear, by substantive, I don’t mean poking and gifting, but actual communication, like with words.) That may seem like a big investment of time for not very much immediate return — and goodness knows many of us really need the return at the moment — but trust me, you just never know.

Every time I watch a confirmation hearing or hear talk of a stimulus plan or find out about yet another inauguration to-do, I can’t help but think about how much work there actually is to do.

This, I’m told, is a very Gen Y impulse, the product of being young, sleep-deprived, and raised on Mr. Rogers, who told us we really could do whatever we liked. But I think it probably has more to do with getting older, and coming to grips with what exactly our future might hold. Sure, we’ve got the Wii, and HDTV, and Google, but those only go so far when you’re unemployed, drowning in debt and lamenting the plight of the polar bear.

It’s a topsy-turvy world out there, and while every generation has experienced some of that, the real grown-ups in my life say that feeling does seem more pervasive than ever, reaching into just about every aspect of life – from foreign policy to the domestic struggles of young vets, from student loans to the greatest economic instability since the Depression, from joblessness at home to the perils (human rights, environmental and otherwise) of globalization abroad. Or maybe we just hear about it more.

Regardless, I know this worldview might appear a tad extreme, so in the spirit of sharing, I thought I’d give you a little insight into what I saw and heard this week to put me in such a lovely frame of mind - a small snapshot of one Y perspective.

5 signs of the apocalypse, and why they made me think of you…

1. Gold might as well be fur. Last night, I told my boyfriend I’m off gold. I’m not that flash to begin with – and I’ve been off diamonds for a while for obvious reasons – but after reading National Geographic’s January cover story, “Gold: The True Cost of a Global Obsession,” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t already known to eschew gold. “For all of its allure, gold’s human and environmental toll has never been so steep,” author Brook Larmer writes. At this rate, I’m going to have to take up an ascetic lifestyle. I already had to stop eating shrimp. My sister’s even done with Coca-Cola. And if anyone ever marries me, it’ll probably be without a ring (and not because I’m easygoing). It’s easy to dismiss as a whole lot of fanatacism, but with the amount and visibility of information that’s out there, we’re going to learn some things we don’t like. Ignoring them won’t make them go away. On the contrary, we should be grateful we do know, and doing our best to act on that knowledge when we can.
2. Everyone owes $50k! According to a financial aid counselor at a well-known Washington, D.C., university who my siblings chatted up last week, $50,000 to $60,000 in educational debt from undergrad is just about expected these days for her institution and schools of its caliber. There’s so much to say about that, and yet, no need to say anything at all. Because, as the College Board says, educational debt is an investment in your future, and a bachelor’s degree is all but essential these days just to be competitive (someone with a B.A. will earn $800,000 more than someone with a high school diploma over a lifetime), so young people hardly have a choice. But that doesn’t make it any less shameful.
3. Kids use Facebook for (not annoying) good. Believe it or not, and whatever you might think of the situation in the Middle East, I found the following rather encouraging: The 14-year-old daughter of close family friends recently updated her Facebook status – which people use to say everything from “Joey is ‘eating spaghetti,’” to, “Sarah is ’so, so, so excited to be engaged!’” – to read, “R. is ‘702 Palestinians murdered by Israel in Gaza (more than 230 children & 100 women) & 3100 injured. Donate your status.’” Now this is a little girl I’ve known since she was a baby, and whose young adulthood I’m so in denial about that I assiduously avoid her Facebook page, lest I find anything I don’t want to know. And Facebook is running out of ways to surprise me. But unlike the 101 groups for this or that cause, or messages from people actively proselytizing, this just had an earnest, honest, youthful sincerity to it that grabbed me. And  how nice to find that on Facebook.
   
4. The government hates animals. New York’s Governor David A. Patterson has proposed “an immediate 55 percent cut and elimination of zoo and botanical garden funds altogether in 2010,” writes Andrew C. Revkin on the New York Times’ Dot Earth blog. All right, I get it — the state’s in trouble, and the $5 million it’ll save by slashing the zoo’s funding will no doubt go a long way in stabilizing things. Doom a hedgehog, feed an investment banker, and all that. But really, how sad. It isn’t enough that we’re destroying natural habitats all over the world, now we have to target the artificial ones we’ve created to shelter the few animals who might survive us. What difference does it make if my kids never get to see a red panda or Bengal tiger? (Never mind the American pika, a cute-as-a-button rabbit relative that’s on its way to becoming the second animal to join the endangered species list because of global warming, behind the polar bear. NatGeo can be such a downer.) Sheesh. The Wildlife Conservation Society’s pithy but pointed video response to the budget cuts is perfect. I hope someone listens.
5. And I love my Mom, but what about the elderly? And in what could have been my own personal apocalypse, on New Year’s Eve, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. And last week, she had surgery to remove it. It’ll be a few months of recovery ahead, but the way she handled it – bouncing right back better and bossier than ever – reminded me of that Boomer resilience that some say (and I hope) we’ve inherited. But it also underscored how important excellent health care is: While watching doctors dote on my mom was a relief, I couldn’t help but think about all the people who don’t have that, not just all over the world, but right here at home. And while nine million uninsured children is a disgrace, our aging population will be larger than ever in the coming years – because of both the number of Boomers, and their lengthening life span – and adequate health care will be essential for them. Not meeting those needs would be a disgrace, too.

So that’s what I’ve been thinking about, guys. What does it all mean? I don’t know yet, except that there’s a long road of recovery and rebuilding ahead for us, too. Have I fallen off the maudlin cliff, or do you feel it, too?

So it’s a new year, and in the interest of all of us getting/staying employed in 2009, I thought I’d share some news about a recent beta launch that promises to help. It’s called Gotta Mentor, and yes, it is a social networking tool of sorts. Given my very public paranoia about how hokily-titled networking sites are diluting our real connections, you can imagine my skepticism. But where Facebook and MySpace are more or less for keeping up with friends, and LinkedIn is a sort of professional contacts list, Gotta Mentor is about engaging a small group of individuals who are focused exclusively on assisting you in developing your career, according to president and co-founder Ronald Mitchell.

Technology’s already been at work in the mentoring world, but as any mentee who’s suffered through a chemistry-free mentoring lunch can tell you, it’s mostly been to create huge databases of random facts that are about as good for matching people as personals ads. And that tends to make structured mentoring programs hugely unsatisfying. So it’s no surprise that the question Mitchell gets most is, “Why would people want to mentor?”

“The answer is simple,” he says. “Most people already do mentor. We believe that people want to give guidance and support to others. They just don’t want to give it to everyone. They want to invest their time in people they have an affinity with.” So in addition to facilitating mentoring relationships for people who already know each other, Gotta Mentor’s MentorMatch makes it easy to find a match based on what you already share—whether it’s family, college, a sorority, a sport, ethnicity, gender, employer, or all of the above.

Professionals from finance, consulting, marketing, education and other areas are already signed up, along with students from such schools as Yale, Harvard Business School, and the University of Pennsylvania. (The service is open to people at all levels, though.) And while their common experiences are great for engagement, Gotta Mentor doesn’t rely on that alone. In addition to resources such as personalized career coaching and searchable career development advice, Gotta Mentor formalizes its mentoring relationships: Mentors agree to a timeline, and advisees must share their career goals and expectations just to be connected. “We would rather you engage five people more substantively around your career than connect to 500,” Mitchell says.

To be frank, I’ll have to see it to believe it. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t state the obvious: The best mentors are the people who teach you over a lifetime of talking, thinking, and living, not necessarily the ones who give you a killer online resume review. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Gotta Mentor’s brand of career guidance, too, or that relationships built in this sort of online community can’t translate elsewhere.

And streamlining the less organic parts of the mentoring experience certainly has its appeal, especially considering how embarrassing it can be for all parties concerned when someone levels the dreaded, “Will you be my mentor?” So I’m willing to give Gotta Mentor the benefit of the doubt. Because it just might work — and because I learned my lesson a few years ago: I had a similarly suspicious initial reaction to fellow Gotta Mentor co-founder John Rice’s education nonprofit, Management Leadership for Tomorrow, when I wrote about it in 2006. At first look, MLT — which aimed to get more diverse students into top MBA programs and beyond—seemed like yet another well-intentioned, but far too optimistic organization. But by the time I’d finished meeting some of its obsessed staffers, gushing Fortune 500 sponsors, and actual students who were now headed to Top 10 schools — it was clear Rice had proved me wrong. Just in case he’s done it again, give Gotta Mentor a look — and as always, let us know what you think.

As stressful as the last few weeks have been to anyone with a pulse and a 401(k), nothing’s been quite so disturbing to me as the inordinate number of times I’ve been asked, “With the economy the way it is now, will Gen Y stop being so demanding?” It may sound innocuous at first, but once you’ve heard the line a few times, it quickly becomes clear that what it really means is, “Now that you don’t have any choice, will you finally stop forcing us to do right by you and just settle like everyone else, for crying out loud?”

Well, thanks, folks. Good to know that, in all this turmoil, the silver lining for some people is the potentially broken Gen Y spirit.

But don’t start celebrating just yet. As a high-profile Los Angeles businesswoman told me last week, what said schadenfreuders don’t realize is that the outcome of the financial crisis may not be a defeated Gen Y, but a more determined one — determined, that is, to follow fulfilling work. “There won’t be any trust in companies,” she said. And the fact of the matter is, without that trust, corporate America becomes even less attractive to standout young employees than it was before the recession hit. The security that a Lehman Brothers or Merrill Lynch business card used to mean — never mind the cachet that they carried — began to evaporate as even those peers who chose the “stable” path of, say, financial services found themselves jobless. And as the list of the white-collar unemployed grows longer every day, it’s beginning to look like they’re gone for good.

Believe it or not, a paycheck doesn’t necessarily make up for all that. True, it may get a few young candidates in the door. It may even get them to stay a little while. But as today’s far more footloose Yers wait longer for spouses, kids, and mortgages — the trifecta of entrapment for the company men of generations past — they’ll be harder to corner. Every time they get a paycheck, they’ll be wondering if it’s their last. And they will always resent a company that uses that paycheck as a shackle — not to mention as an excuse not to improve the myriad other aspects of worklife — rather than as a reward for a job well done. So much so that the moment something better appears– whether it’s an NGO in Bangladesh, their own small business, or a plain old better job as the economy stabilizes — they will be out like The Flash.

So what’s a company do? (Besides advise managers not to hope for a generation of employees cowed by financial instability, of course.) It’s simple: See this time as an opportunity, not to snare young candidates while they’re down, but to distinguish your organization as one that can shine in difficult times and, as a result, attract and retain the very best employees. Yers are all about partnership, so talk to them about the challenges your company’s facing, and use those challenges to build that stirring startup energy that gets young hearts beating. And even when layoffs are a must, do them humanely, so all your employees can stay and go with dignity (and without saying mean but true things about you on every blog this side of Gawker).

As a Washington utility executive reminded me recently, Shakespeare wrote, “Sweet are the uses of adversity.” We Gen Yers are learning that, I think. Let’s see if the people in charge can, too.

Author and workplace expert Tamara Erickson — someone many of you longtime Gig readers will remember from posts such as “Job-hopping Gen Yers aren’t disloyal. They’re smart,” and “Money v. meaningful work, the battle continues” — has a new book out, and since she’s been such a source of good advice, we thought we’d give you a sneak peek. 

Plugged In: The Generation Y Guide to Thriving at Work focuses on Yers’ advantages — our fresh perspective, motivation, and willingness to take risks — and offers some guidance to help Yers fully connect to their colleagues and engage in the changing work world. In the following excerpt, Tammy introduces the “career curve” framework, one she says can help Yers identify the best job and career path to meet their work and life needs. 

What shape will your career take? The line of your career is not an even progression. The amount of time, the intensity of your involvement with the work, the pulls of family, and many other concerns all influence the shape at any given moment of that path — what I call the career curve.

The career curve framework guides you in thinking about the practical reality of what will work for you. How much money do you consider enough (or need so that you can pay off the debt that you are carrying from school loans)? How much time would you like to devote to work? What role would you like it to play in the mosaic of your life’s other activities?

Older adults have tended to think about one career curve. It used to be that the progression of a career meant a steady rise at one workplace through the years, and then a sharp and abrupt end — rather like falling off a cliff — when workers retired. That pattern is being replaced, by and large, by more of a bell curve: entry-level, full involvement and advancement, and then a winding down or deceleration phase as workers transition out of work. Gen Y’s, however, should be thinking of multiple curves. Quite likely, you will have ups, downs, and do-overs. For you, the career curve framework might better be called career carillon, because the line of your career is likely to resemble a series of bell curves.

As you think about different options for your career curve(s), consider these issues:

• Time: What other priorities do you have for your life? How much time would you like to devote to work? On the surface, this question is probably the most straightforward of all the considerations, although it’s also one of the most dependent on other choices you make. To a large extent, the amount of time you choose to devote to various activities, including work, will end up depending on how much you enjoy each one relative to the others. Nonetheless, it’s important to consider that, realistically, some careers are far more time-consuming than others.

• Rhythm: Lots of people say they’d like more flexibility in their work arrangements, but what would that really mean for you? How much spontaneity or predictability do you need to accomplish the other priorities in your life? Do you anticipate having other activities that are highly regular (for example, training for an athletic event that could be conducted at the same time every day), or are your other priorities more likely to be spontaneous (for example, going on an impromptu trip)? Would working four long days every week — the same four days — be more appealing to you, or would you rather work in episodic bursts? Various career choices allow very different rhythms.

• Economic reality: Get out your pencil or spreadsheet. It’s time to set some approximate financial goals. How much money do you need at this stage of your life? What standard of living will be comfortable for you? This is not a book about financial planning — there are plenty of those — but I encourage you to do some now. Be sure to take into account not only living expenses but also money required to pay off any student loans and to save for dreams you may have for the future. Consider the amount of help that you can realistically expect from your parents and family. Having a rough sense of your economic requirements will shape the choices that make sense.

• Challenge: Consider the extent to which you do want (or don’t want) to take on difficult or challenging roles at this point, including the level of commitment you would be willing to make to learn new skill and capabilities. How new and how difficult do you want your future work to be?

• Responsibility: Responsibility is a measure of the interdependence of your work with that of others. How willing are you to take on roles, including managerial tasks, that directly affect others? Are you comfortable having others depend on you? Are you willing to have people look to you for leadership or direction?

These questions help you shape the tangible reality of the work you prefer. Time and money may not be all that counts, but they are an important reality to factor in as you search for your passion.

Reprinted by permission of Harvard Business Press.  Adapted from Plugged In: The Generation Y Guide to Thriving at Work by Tamara Erickson.  Copyright 2008 Tamara J. Erickson.  All rights reserved. 

It was a strange day on 50th St. yesterday. And for more prosaic reasons than you might think. For the last four years, my walk to the office from our subway stop has gone more or less like this: I stop at the crosswalk in front of the Lehman Brothers building. I marvel at the incredible weirdness of the giant screens on its exterior playing video of a Lehman logo floating across nature scenes. I cross, look up, and laugh about the line of young men’s backs in that oh-so-familiar pale Wall Street blue leaning on a window ledge a few floors up in some regular morning meeting. And I arrive at the doors of the old Time & Life building, happy on my funky writer’s proverbial high horse.

But yesterday, when I got to our block, the Lehman building’s screens all said Barclays. The mountains and sky tape had been replaced by a static cerulean background. And who would’ve guessed — I felt a little pang of sadness. The woman in front of me on the sidewalk stopped to take a picture of the new look, and I couldn’t help but notice that, against all sense and precedent, I was nostalgic for Lehman and that lame loop.

Whatever you think of what’s happened over the last 10 days or so, it sure has been a reality check. And while everyone’s been affected, I think we Yers have gotten it even more from all sides. There is, of course, the crisis itself, which underscores so much of the discussion we’ve had on The Gig concerning Yers’ skittishness about corporate America. (Remember “Job-hopping Gen Yers aren’t disloyal. They’re smart”? But well before things got into $700 billion bailout territory, the broader distrustful youth story was already shaping up, and each day seemed to bring an event more shocking than the last. First, there was the obvious hook — the 9/11 anniversary — something that’s been so formative for our cohort and whose impact doesn’t seem to have dimmed much. I’d scarcely started planning that post before news hit of David Foster Wallace’ssuicide, and while he clearly wasn’t a Yer, the voice of Xer disaffection was well loved by many of my friends, and his death seemed to make us all take a step back and reevaluate in a way that other losses haven’t.

All of which might have been worth discussing, until 10 seconds later, when the headlines about Lehman and Merrill Lynch got hysterical. By the time I headed out last Monday morning for a quick business trip to Southern California, I was cringing in fear every time I turned on the TV or got on the Web. And just in case the big picture was too far removed, there were all sorts of more personal reminders, like the cab driver on the way to JFK who told me about a young man he’d dropped off early that Monday — the kid had just gotten married on Sunday, was heading to Greece for his honeymoon Monday afternoon, and on the morning he should’ve been basking in the newlywed glow, he was heading to Lehman to pack up his office and trying not to think about what he’d be coming home to in a few weeks.

Who could blame us for being afraid? And let’s be honest, given recent events, obviously our wariness isn’t exactly unjustified. It used to be that going to a company like Lehman was the “stable” path, and just look where those folks are now. (Not to mention where they will be; as career management consultant Paul Bernard told CNNMoney, “Only 20% to 25% of Lehman employees will eventually land Wall Street jobs. There are just not that many jobs.”)

And while the big bailout may save the hour, all the current flailing just keeps reminding me of something many of you have heard over and over already — that we will be the first generation in recent American history to be economically worse off than our parents. Perhaps, in the past, I understood this intellectually, but it’s a reality now — and one so stark it sort of explains Yers’ collective neurosis. Whatever the course correction, however successful, it seems we — and that means everyone, but especially Yers — are in for it.

Because, in case you didn’t know already, we’re in all kinds of debt, our parents have no real savings, and by the time we have kids, well, a decent kindergarten could cost as much as college did for us — all points that led my friend and editor to write in an e-mail, “Boy, are you guys wimps!” Easy for him to say; he’s the boss, and old enough to tell stories about walking uphill both ways to school barefoot in the snow. So while, to him, I know even talking about the situation in which we find ourselves sounds like whining, I think that’s mostly because it’s such a debacle that any discussion would sound a bit whiny. And hey, when you consider what the previous generation’s mistakes could cost us in the long run, I think we’re entitled to some complaining.

There is an upside, though, and it too fits into the Yer philosophy — but on the optimistic, rebellious, save-the-world side. Roger Cohen touched on it last week in his New York Times column, “The King Is Dead”. ”When I taught a journalism course at Princeton a couple of years ago,” he writes, “I was captivated by the bright, curious minds in my class. But when I asked students what they wanted to do, the overwhelming answer was: ‘Oh, I guess I’ll end up in i-banking.’ It was not that they loved investment banking…it was the money and the fact everyone else was doing it.” Not so much anymore. And while I am going to miss the morning love affair Lehman and I had, if a small shift in the narrow thinking Cohen criticizes is what comes out of all this for us, I think I can live with that. Now we just have to start saving for (our parents’!) retirement.

Today, a question from one of you. Gig reader Kurt writes:

“I’ve been thinking about switching jobs and finding something that will provide better benefits and salary for me and my new wife. But I was typing up a new resume and realized that — at 28 — I have five jobs that are one year apiece. How can I spin that in an interview as a positive? Can I just tell the truth and say that I’m not finding what I need, or do you think that might be a kiss of death?”

Well, Kurt, you’re definitely not alone. And while the job hunt is always stressful — no matter who you are and how great your resume might be — don’t let this particular issue keep you up at night. Because if the recruiters I talk to are any indication, your job-hopping isn’t as unusual as you might think. With more and more of us waiting to settle down and choosing “non-traditional” career paths — such as hostel-hopping through Europe or heading back to Mom and Dad’s while we write the great American novel — we’re less and less likely to stay in a bad job just because we need the money or don’t have other options.

Which is why you’ll hear some HR people say that they can’t get young employees to stay. But that’s actually a good thing for you. Because as more qualified, professional candidates come in with resumes that look like yours, those doing the hiring have been forced to focus less on job tenure and more on real skills and relevant experience.

But what does this actually mean? As discussed in a recent post, “Job-hopping Gen Yers aren’t disloyal, they’re smart,” many twentysomethings are simply opting for opportunities over loyalty. That was certainly the case for me: I came to Fortune at the age of 24, and it was already my fourth job out of school. Did that mean that I was a giant flake without any sense of purpose or commitment? Not really. Instead, it played as evidence of my risk-taking nature and willingness to follow the best gigs, managers, and experiences (or so my bosses tell me). And, ultimately, that made me a more attractive hire for companies that were looking for a person with a specific skillset and perspective, rather than someone they could develop all the way to retirement.

To be fair, I should point out that, while HR folks often say that we’re harder to keep than ever, the numbers don’t necessarily bear out our fickleness: In 2006, the median tenure for workers ages 25 to 34 was 2.9 years, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. And more than 20 years ago, in 1983, it was…3 years. Not exactly a dramatic drop. (And the same is generally true of younger workers: For those ages 20 to 24, the median tenure was 1.3 years in 2006, and 1.5 years in 1983.)

While there are economic fluctuations from decade to decade that caused some peaks and valleys, it’s possible that this relatively constant tenure number doesn’t yet capture the changing attitudes of young professionals. And one BLS survey found that the youngest Boomers — those born between 1957 and 1964 — held an average of 10.2 jobs between the ages of 18 and 38, a number that will probably just keep going up. Regardless, the fact is that recruiters definitely think we’re more fickle — and they’re starting to forgive us for it.

Of course, that doesn’t mean we should bounce around just for fun. After all, the postscript to my four-jobs-by-24 story is that I’ve now been at Fortune almost four years. And as Gig reader Dan pointed out in his response to the job-hopping post, “those who stay with the same employer for longer tend to get good at what they do,” among other things.

Of course, there are perfectly good reasons to move on, especially if you find yourself an expert at stapling and copying, but not much else. So, Kurt, if you can demonstrate some logic to your career moves, you’ll be in good shape. And in your case, with a new spouse — and the new priorities that (I hope!) come with that — you’re often even more desirable than you would be otherwise because recruiters know that you’re looking for stability.

So when you head into that next big interview, think about how you can show you’re a high performer who’s both learned and contributed in each job — and it won’t matter much whether you stay for one year or 10. (Though it’s probably a good idea to try to stay at least a year, as it’s kind of hard to argue you made a real mark in a job you had for six months.) I’m all for being honest about your struggles to find the right fit, but be sure to make the interview about how you made the best of each role, not how bad they all were. And since you’ll want to reassure the new company that you won’t be headed out the door fast, come with some examples of what makes their organization such a good one for you.

Think of the interview as a chance to tell your story. For so many of us Yers, that’s what work is — an enormous, seamlessly-integrated part of our personal stories that’s even more central because we often don’t have the things that take precedence over work in older people’s lives, like families. So figure out how to frame your career story in terms of trajectory and lessons and goals, and don’t get hung up on the numbers.

If you believe it, they just might, too.

What about you guys? Are your resumes similar to Kurt’s, or are you through with job-hopping?

Just a quick update from one of our Gig authors: It’s a new online comic strip, corporatetoolz, from Jake Greene, the author of Whoa, My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book. (You may remember him from our “Could ‘Rock of Love’ boost your career?” post.)

My personal fave?

Of course, as soon as I saw this, I thought of about 15 more I’d do (if only I had a shred of artistic talent!), but I bet you guys have even better ones than I do. Care to share?

Our layoffs post got such an amazing response that we need to continue that conversation, and in the meantime, it’s also fed some thinking on other parts of the Gen Y “experience,” like this story I did for the Big Idea with Donny Deutsch. Had a chance to do the show on Monday, and the big idea was winning — what it is, what it means, how to be a winner — a concept some think we Gen Yers not only have a unique perspective on, but might even be changing. (Generation Team, anyone?) Thought you’d enjoy taking a look, and as always, tell us what you think…

In case you were worried, yes, I still have a job. Seems some of you read recent reports of turmoil at Fortune and, with my conspicuous absence since then, feared the worst. Well, I heart you, too. And while I was actually on vacation and not busy sprucing up my resume, your reaction got me thinking about layoffs and their effect on us Yers.

Along with 9/11, the Columbine school shootings, Hurricane Katrina and the increasingly frightening climate change conversation, the layoffs we watched our parents and their friends go through were formative for us. No wonder, when it comes to our worldview, we’re a wary bunch; we’ve seen enough immediate and unpredictable upheaval to know that we can’t wait too long to live our lives. (Put off that safari or landmark visit too long, a Yer might tell you, and those animals and monuments may not exist when you finally make the time to see them. And by the way, the company where you worked for all those years you could have been traveling may not be there for you, either.)

For those of us who saw our elders give years — even decades — of service to major corporations, only to find themselves suddenly and unceremoniously jobless, corporate America often appears just as scary and unstable (and untrustworthy) as the world at large, if not more so. And whether that’s a fair characterization or not, it certainly doesn’t help when companies operate the way some of those in this New York Times story do — creating a culture of fear and distrust by, among other things, keeping employees completely out of the loop, to the point where a bounced e-mail from a now-former colleague’s work address is the first indication s/he’s gone.

Is it any surprise that Yers are quick to move to the next opportunity — or, to hear some recruiters tell it, be “disloyal”? Could any of us really justify staying “loyal” to a place that we’ve learned could turn us out into the street at any moment, without so much as a farewell e-mail? That sounds a lot more like stupidity than loyalty to me.

And even for those young people who — not being all that expensive anyway — manage to keep their jobs, the trauma of seeing older, experienced staffers get the proverbial boot is enough to drive you to the Peace Corps. Every time I’ve accepted a job, it’s been because I saw a great teacher in some person there, someone whom I knew I’d look forward to learning from every day, and who would help me grow in my own career. Sadly, those almost always seem to be the first people to go. And our so-called loyalty usually goes with them.

Even in my short career — which admittedly has spanned more than a couple organizations, from tiny startup to media titan — I’ve been through a half-dozen rounds of layoffs or more. And let’s just say it hasn’t exactly been an exercise in stellar management. Like when, doing double duty as a writer and the editor’s executive assistant, I had to attend a Thanksgiving party with a group of people I knew would be out of work in a week. (Yet more evidence that it pays to answer the boss’ phone, even if you find out things you’d rather not know.) By the time my boss’ boss started speechifying about how much we had to be grateful for, I was wishing Presbyterians had confession so I could admit to being the worst person on Earth. Talk about disingenuous leadership.

Then there was the time I was traveling for work and couldn’t get my editor to answer some story questions over e-mail. Assuming I’d annoyed him into silence, I practiced my apology speech all the way to his office — only to find the room dark and boxes piled outside. Not, as we say, awesome.

That isn’t to suggest we don’t understand the need for layoffs, or the legal difficulties downsizing companies may face, which can force them to behave in a less than laudable manner. But even if it isn’t an option to share information with employees via e-mail — or bring them up to speed at all — sometimes a simple “hang in there” or quick visit from a manager is all it takes to put a young person’s mind at ease. Without this sort of input or guidance, we only have the soap opera of management handling (or mishandling, as in the cases above) these situations to guide us, which isn’t much of a marketing campaign if you’re trying to retain or develop employees.

Never mind that it doesn’t do much to encourage employees to become leaders themselves. As Tammy Erickson at the Concours Institute notes on her Harvard Business Online blog, Yers aren’t necessarily eyeing the top job. “We were pretty surprised by the number of Y’s who said their boss’ job just didn’t look ‘worth it,’” she writes. Perhaps because it’s more true than ever that we want to reach our own personal best — which means having the best personal life possible, too, and maybe, you know, not having to fire all your friends — becoming CEO isn’t the holy grail it might have been.

So, all that to say, the talk of layoffs got me thinking about how some of those criticisms I so often hear leveled against us — like our “disloyalty” and lack of the “right” ambition — aren’t evidence of some sort of generational deficiency, but an almost direct result of the messages corporate America has sent us. Loyalty’s a two-way street, we’ve realized, and ambition’s only as good as the life it gets you. And if those are the lessons that we finally learn from layoffs, then I say our disloyalty and disdain for the C-suite are really a great testament to our growing common sense. Which ought to make the critics happy, since they keep telling me we need more of that, too.

Thoughts, feelings, rants? Do you guys have similar stories to share, or am I totally off on this one?

In case you were worried, yes, I still have a job. Seems some of you read recent reports of turmoil at Fortune and, with my conspicuous absence since then, feared the worst. Well, I heart you, too. And while I was actually on vacation and not busy sprucing up my resume, your reaction got me thinking about layoffs and their effect on us Yers.

Along with 9/11, the Columbine school shootings, Hurricane Katrina and the increasingly frightening climate change conversation, the layoffs we watched our parents and their friends go through were formative for us. No wonder, when it comes to our worldview, we’re a wary bunch; we’ve seen enough immediate and unpredictable upheaval to know that we can’t wait too long to live our lives. (Put off that safari or landmark visit too long, a Yer might tell you, and those animals and monuments may not exist when you finally make the time to see them. And by the way, the company where you worked for all those years you could have been traveling may not be there for you, either.)

For those of us who saw our elders give years — even decades — of service to major corporations, only to find themselves suddenly and unceremoniously jobless, corporate America often appears just as scary and unstable (and untrustworthy) as the world at large, if not more so. And whether that’s a fair characterization or not, it certainly doesn’t help when companies operate the way some of those in this New York Times story do — creating a culture of fear and distrust by, among other things, keeping employees completely out of the loop, to the point where a bounced e-mail from a now-former colleague’s work address is the first indication s/he’s gone.

Is it any surprise that Yers are quick to move to the next opportunity — or, to hear some recruiters tell it, be “disloyal”? Could any of us really justify staying “loyal” to a place that we’ve learned could turn us out into the street at any moment, without so much as a farewell e-mail? That sounds a lot more like stupidity than loyalty to me.

And even for those young people who — not being all that expensive anyway — manage to keep their jobs, the trauma of seeing older, experienced staffers get the proverbial boot is enough to drive you to the Peace Corps. Every time I’ve accepted a job, it’s been because I saw a great teacher in some person there, someone whom I knew I’d look forward to learning from every day, and who would help me grow in my own career. Sadly, those almost always seem to be the first people to go. And our so-called loyalty usually goes with them.

Even in my short career — which admittedly has spanned more than a couple organizations, from tiny startup to media titan — I’ve been through a half-dozen rounds of layoffs or more. And let’s just say it hasn’t exactly been an exercise in stellar management. Like when, doing double duty as a writer and the editor’s executive assistant, I had to attend a Thanksgiving party with a group of people I knew would be out of work in a week. (Yet more evidence that it pays to answer the boss’ phone, even if you find out things you’d rather not know.) By the time my boss’ boss started speechifying about how much we had to be grateful for, I was wishing Presbyterians had confession so I could admit to being the worst person on Earth. Talk about disingenuous leadership.

Then there was the time I was traveling for work and couldn’t get my editor to answer some story questions over e-mail. Assuming I’d annoyed him into silence, I practiced my apology speech all the way to his office — only to find the room dark and boxes piled outside. Not, as we say, awesome.

That isn’t to suggest we don’t understand the need for layoffs, or the legal difficulties downsizing companies may face, which can force them to behave in a less than laudable manner. But even if it isn’t an option to share information with employees via e-mail — or bring them up to speed at all — sometimes a simple “hang in there” or quick visit from a manager is all it takes to put a young person’s mind at ease. Without this sort of input or guidance, we only have the soap opera of management handling (or mishandling, as in the cases above) these situations to guide us, which isn’t much of a marketing campaign if you’re trying to retain or develop employees.

Never mind that it doesn’t do much to encourage employees to become leaders themselves. As Tammy Erickson at the Concours Institute notes on her Harvard Business Online blog, Yers aren’t necessarily eyeing the top job. “We were pretty surprised by the number of Y’s who said their boss’ job just didn’t look ‘worth it,’” she writes. Perhaps because it’s more true than ever that we want to reach our own personal best — which means having the best personal life possible, too, and maybe, you know, not having to fire all your friends — becoming CEO isn’t the holy grail it might have been.

So, all that to say, the talk of layoffs got me thinking about how some of those criticisms I so often hear leveled against us — like our “disloyalty” and lack of the “right” ambition — aren’t evidence of some sort of generational deficiency, but an almost direct result of the messages corporate America has sent us. Loyalty’s a two-way street, we’ve realized, and ambition’s only as good as the life it gets you. And if those are the lessons that we finally learn from layoffs, then I say our disloyalty and disdain for the C-suite are really a great testament to our growing common sense. Which ought to make the critics happy, since they keep telling me we need more of that, too.

Thoughts, feelings, rants? Do you guys have similar stories to share, or am I totally off on this one?

We pick up our newspapers v. reality TV debate again with part two of all the Gen Y job-hunter needs to know.

For an equally fun, but quicker, photo-filled version, see here.

SCORE SO FAR: Newspapers 2; Reality TV 1
Lesson 4: It’s all in the Networking

Nadira says:
Reality show contestants may form “alliances,” but when it comes to creating a lasting network, nothing’s better than your local paper. That’s where you’ll find your community’s real luminaries, and potentially amass the tools to connect with them (since they’d probably rather bond over a shared love of Dick Cavett’s blog than an unhealthy obsession with The Hills). But my favorite insight from papers is about the art and luck of networking. Read successful people’s stories and it’s easy to see that most weren’t plotting ascendancy from the womb. They found a passion, made some mistakes, met some people, worked hard, and worked it out. And ultimately, that’s a better way to network than the strategies employed by, say, the social-climbing Real Housewives of New York City.

Jake says:
The “art and luck” hypothesis works, but I can’t believe you threw Dick Cavett and The Hills into the same sentence. Are you writing for Ashton or Demi?! Dictionary.com calls networking a “a supportive system of sharing information and services among individuals and groups having a common interest.” Sounds like the Big Brother House to me. Contestants on these shows have to share knowledge and resources skillfully, and they must be supportive of their peers. But while these relationships dominate, competitors who base alliances on utility alone rarely make the finals; the minute it gets tense, their networks fall apart. I ain’t gonna lie: Reality TV isn’t the forum for studying long-term networks, but it does show the value of true personal connections when you’re trying to build one.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because networks should be built, not brokered under penalty of ejection from the Big Brother house.

Lesson 5: Oh, the Pressure

Jake says:
Newspapers dissect drama while reality shows exploit drama. When it comes to office drama – from interoffice conflict to taking criticism – you might want to act impulsively and incite a brawl like a houseguest on The Real World or The Ultimate Fighter. But resist the urge. You’ll be better served looking at every angle and coming up with a measured response, the way a good newspaper story does. That’s always going to trump the emotionally-charged outbursts of reality TV (assuming you want to keep your job). Where drama’s concerned, what’s good for TV is bad for business.

Nadira says:
I’m all for a measured response, but angry coworkers or critical bosses can be as tough as any ultimate fighter, and chances are a well-written story isn’t going to be much help. But what is reality TV for if not dramatic situations? Like you said, once you’ve played “20 questions designed to dissolve you” with Donald Trump or Project Runway’s Nina Garcia, a plain old evaluation from your boss probably won’t faze you. And, hi, if you want to learn how to handle yourself in the midst of unmanageable chaos, look no further than Supernanny Jo Frost, whose workplace, like so many of ours, features huge crybabies, crazy clients, and all kinds of anger management issues. So if you need is a good lesson in confident, creative conflict-resolution, turn on JoJo. No, I mean it. Seriously.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because you have to see crazy people to believe them.

Lesson 6: Who’s Cool Around the Water-Cooler?

Jake says:
In the words (and spelling) of MC Hammer, “U Can’t Touch This”. The water cooler is an inter-office retreat where the stress and pressure of the day are abandoned in favor of gossip and irreverence. Global conflicts and local crime rates have no place near the cooler — and giggling and snickering do. No wonder reality television reigns supreme. But most of all, the water cooler is about circulation. And the combined daily circulation of USA Today, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal is only a fraction of the 30 million people watch every episode of American Idol. If you want to make water cooler friends, Simon Cowell is your best bet.

Nadira says:
This is one place where newspapers simply have to bow to the juggernaut that is reality TV. Because while you may impress a superior or two with your weekend news items, once you’re dealing with people you actually know, they’d probably much rather talk about the latest American Idol or Top Chef than that hot front-page story in the paper that they were too tired to read all weekend. So while you should have a few paper gems in your back pocket, in the unlikely event your CEO drops by the water cooler huddle and doesn’t want to hear your predictions for America’s Next Top Model, I’m probably going to have to defer to Jake on this one…

WINNER: Reality TV. Because 30 million people can’t all be wrong — and even if they are, you want them to like you!

Lesson 7: No Direction, No Hope

Jake says:
(Note: Like Arnold in Terminator 2, I recognize and accept that I am going to get killed in this episode.) The beauty of reality TV is that we get to witness the struggles of young people who are searching for direction. Unlike newsworthy characters in the paper, reality TV characters are not at the top of their professional game. If they were, they wouldn’t have time to flirt with Bret Michaels or kayak around the world on The Amazing Race. (Even the (so-called) celebrities on VH1’s Celeb-reality programming are unsure of their career trajectory.) But we get to learn from and laugh at their mistakes. We learn that it’s okay to be vaguely ambitious. And we learn that it’s not okay to swim naked in a fish tank (on camera) like Isaac did in The Real World: Sydney, as that could affect your chances of landing a job in the future.

Nadira says:
Just watch the Real World Awards Bash ‘08, and it’s clear reality TV can show you which direction not to go. Case in point: your poor, hilarious, aquarium-diving Isaac, who seemed to be only half-joking when he said in his update that he was now living in a friend’s basement, stealing to eat, and grateful to MTV for ruining his life. So please, for the love of all things holy, do not look to reality TV to plan your life. Open instead the pages, be they paper or web, of your favorite newspaper and read it all. Use the real estate listings to plan your future as a homeowner. Transition from college chic to yo-pro appropriate with the style section. Oh, and consider scanning the actual news, since the kind of person you want to become would probably like to know at least as much about American politics as about Celebreality.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because Bret Michaels’ groupies may be relatable, but you should probably be aiming for “respectable.”

FINAL SCORE: Newspapers 4; Reality TV 3

And there you have it, sports fans — the exciting conclusion to The Gig’s first-ever face-off. Those defenders of the written word out there can breathe easy for the time being, as newspapers pulled it out in the end. But we wouldn’t get too comfortable. Reality TV, long maligned as a straight line to procrastination and increased stupidity for young people everywhere, almost squeaked by. And that, combined with that stat from the New Yorker about newspapers going extinct somewhere around 2043 (you laugh, I link), would have me worried, paper-people. But for now, keep reading your Posts, Tribunes, Chronicles, and Times(es). And watching The Hills, of course. Good (job) hunting.

We pick up our newspapers v. reality TV debate again with part two of all the Gen Y job-hunter needs to know.

For an equally fun, but quicker, photo-filled version, see here.

SCORE SO FAR: Newspapers 2; Reality TV 1
Lesson 4: It’s all in the Networking

Nadira says:
Reality show contestants may form “alliances,” but when it comes to creating a lasting network, nothing’s better than your local paper. That’s where you’ll find your community’s real luminaries, and potentially amass the tools to connect with them (since they’d probably rather bond over a shared love of Dick Cavett’s blog than an unhealthy obsession with The Hills). But my favorite insight from papers is about the art and luck of networking. Read successful people’s stories and it’s easy to see that most weren’t plotting ascendancy from the womb. They found a passion, made some mistakes, met some people, worked hard, and worked it out. And ultimately, that’s a better way to network than the strategies employed by, say, the social-climbing Real Housewives of New York City.

Jake says:
The “art and luck” hypothesis works, but I can’t believe you threw Dick Cavett and The Hills into the same sentence. Are you writing for Ashton or Demi?! Dictionary.com calls networking a “a supportive system of sharing information and services among individuals and groups having a common interest.” Sounds like the Big Brother House to me. Contestants on these shows have to share knowledge and resources skillfully, and they must be supportive of their peers. But while these relationships dominate, competitors who base alliances on utility alone rarely make the finals; the minute it gets tense, their networks fall apart. I ain’t gonna lie: Reality TV isn’t the forum for studying long-term networks, but it does show the value of true personal connections when you’re trying to build one.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because networks should be built, not brokered under penalty of ejection from the Big Brother house.

Lesson 5: Oh, the Pressure

Jake says:
Newspapers dissect drama while reality shows exploit drama. When it comes to office drama – from interoffice conflict to taking criticism – you might want to act impulsively and incite a brawl like a houseguest on The Real World or The Ultimate Fighter. But resist the urge. You’ll be better served looking at every angle and coming up with a measured response, the way a good newspaper story does. That’s always going to trump the emotionally-charged outbursts of reality TV (assuming you want to keep your job). Where drama’s concerned, what’s good for TV is bad for business.

Nadira says:
I’m all for a measured response, but angry coworkers or critical bosses can be as tough as any ultimate fighter, and chances are a well-written story isn’t going to be much help. But what is reality TV for if not dramatic situations? Like you said, once you’ve played “20 questions designed to dissolve you” with Donald Trump or Project Runway’s Nina Garcia, a plain old evaluation from your boss probably won’t faze you. And, hi, if you want to learn how to handle yourself in the midst of unmanageable chaos, look no further than Supernanny Jo Frost, whose workplace, like so many of ours, features huge crybabies, crazy clients, and all kinds of anger management issues. So if you need is a good lesson in confident, creative conflict-resolution, turn on JoJo. No, I mean it. Seriously.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because you have to see crazy people to believe them.

Lesson 6: Who’s Cool Around the Water-Cooler?

Jake says:
In the words (and spelling) of MC Hammer, “U Can’t Touch This”. The water cooler is an inter-office retreat where the stress and pressure of the day are abandoned in favor of gossip and irreverence. Global conflicts and local crime rates have no place near the cooler — and giggling and snickering do. No wonder reality television reigns supreme. But most of all, the water cooler is about circulation. And the combined daily circulation of USA Today, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal is only a fraction of the 30 million people watch every episode of American Idol. If you want to make water cooler friends, Simon Cowell is your best bet.

Nadira says:
This is one place where newspapers simply have to bow to the juggernaut that is reality TV. Because while you may impress a superior or two with your weekend news items, once you’re dealing with people you actually know, they’d probably much rather talk about the latest American Idol or Top Chef than that hot front-page story in the paper that they were too tired to read all weekend. So while you should have a few paper gems in your back pocket, in the unlikely event your CEO drops by the water cooler huddle and doesn’t want to hear your predictions for America’s Next Top Model, I’m probably going to have to defer to Jake on this one…

WINNER: Reality TV. Because 30 million people can’t all be wrong — and even if they are, you want them to like you!

Lesson 7: No Direction, No Hope

Jake says:
(Note: Like Arnold in Terminator 2, I recognize and accept that I am going to get killed in this episode.) The beauty of reality TV is that we get to witness the struggles of young people who are searching for direction. Unlike newsworthy characters in the paper, reality TV characters are not at the top of their professional game. If they were, they wouldn’t have time to flirt with Bret Michaels or kayak around the world on The Amazing Race. (Even the (so-called) celebrities on VH1’s Celeb-reality programming are unsure of their career trajectory.) But we get to learn from and laugh at their mistakes. We learn that it’s okay to be vaguely ambitious. And we learn that it’s not okay to swim naked in a fish tank (on camera) like Isaac did in The Real World: Sydney, as that could affect your chances of landing a job in the future.

Nadira says:
Just watch the Real World Awards Bash ‘08, and it’s clear reality TV can show you which direction not to go. Case in point: your poor, hilarious, aquarium-diving Isaac, who seemed to be only half-joking when he said in his update that he was now living in a friend’s basement, stealing to eat, and grateful to MTV for ruining his life. So please, for the love of all things holy, do not look to reality TV to plan your life. Open instead the pages, be they paper or web, of your favorite newspaper and read it all. Use the real estate listings to plan your future as a homeowner. Transition from college chic to yo-pro appropriate with the style section. Oh, and consider scanning the actual news, since the kind of person you want to become would probably like to know at least as much about American politics as about Celebreality.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because Bret Michaels’ groupies may be relatable, but you should probably be aiming for “respectable.”

FINAL SCORE: Newspapers 4; Reality TV 3

And there you have it, sports fans — the exciting conclusion to The Gig’s first-ever face-off. Those defenders of the written word out there can breathe easy for the time being, as newspapers pulled it out in the end. But we wouldn’t get too comfortable. Reality TV, long maligned as a straight line to procrastination and increased stupidity for young people everywhere, almost squeaked by. And that, combined with that stat from the New Yorker about newspapers going extinct somewhere around 2043 (you laugh, I link), would have me worried, paper-people. But for now, keep reading your Posts, Tribunes, Chronicles, and Times(es). And watching The Hills, of course. Good (job) hunting.

When I heard about Whoa! My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book from a friend, I wasn’t exactly rearing to read it. While we’ve been planning lots more books coverage on The Gig, there are 50 terrible career books like this for each good one, and this one happened to be written by a Stanford classmate, Jake Greene, who, while I didn’t know him personally, was widely held to be a pretty nice guy with good ideas and access to all my personal contact information through the alumni page.

So while I steeled myself for the brush-off I’d inevitably have to give him, I gave it a flip-through. And found chapter titles like, “Get Up, Get Out, and Do Something: Fold up the futon. It’s time to get your hands dirty,” and, “40-Year-Old Q&A: Lessons in BS from Hollywood’s favorite virgin.” Then there was the “Toolish Tendencies Test” in the appendix. And once I was wooed enough to actually read, the winning opening line: “This is not another ‘Corporate Tools for Corporate Tools’ handbook.”

There was something, it seemed, to this Jake Greene guy’s approach. In fact, the 28-year-old marketing consultant was a little unexpected himself. He’s married, wore a suit(!) to meet me, and would rather talk on the real phone than e-mail or text. And he hasn’t always wanted to write a book to share his wisdom. (Hah.) Whoa! grew out of his observations on the road working for a real-estate development startup, a collection of journal entries that eventually started to look like a book.

So to start us off in our ‘08 books conversation, I thought we’d take a more unorthodox approach with this one and have some fun (before getting back to the serious stuff, of course). In Whoa!, Greene argues that pop culture’s a great prep tool for twentysomethings in the job market, especially since we all for the most part grew up on it — Cosby Show, Full House, everything ever aired on MTV. And that’s even more true today, with the rise of reality TV and all its contrived challenges.

So we decided to put some of Jake’s thinking to the test. He and I spent some time watching reality TV and reading major newspapers, then settled in to argue high-school-debate-style about which wins out in the arenas that matter, from initiative to interviewing skills, and pick winners in each. Of course, being that, as writers and Yers, we love both papers and pop culture, we had a hard time picking sides, so we tried to switch it up in each category, to keep it fair and fresh — and allow us to show all our embarrassing knowledge of the highs and lows of modern media. And when we were done, we tallied the score to crown the king of the Newspapers v. Reality TV smack-down.

So what’s better a primer for the Gen Y job-seeker? Supernanny or the New York Times? Read on to find out…

And see a quick, photo-filled version here

Lesson 1: Building a Better Resume

Nadira says:
What better resume-builder is there than the New York Times? There’s the actual careers coverage, of course, but take something like the Vows section. Every Sunday, it forces dozens of couples to distill their lives into a few hundred choice words, a skill we could all use. And what is a newspaper profile but an inside look at what people remember, how they remember it, and the many ways in which it can be spun. Which, after all, is what a good resume is all about. But perhaps the best part of reading a paper is the collected quirkyness of it—a place where politicians and athletes appear alongside Portishead and the Brooklyn Flea Market, a recent Sunday Times. It’s that kind of energy that makes the best resumes, and nothing captures it quite like a good newspaper.

Jake says:
I like your material and memory argument, but the Vows section? Really? Also, if you want to see writers mingle with washed-up band members, watch The Surreal Life. Reality TV shows viewers what can happen if they don’t take their resumes seriously. Every season premiere of The Bachelor/Bachelorette is full of “customer service specialists” (waiters) and “entrepreneurs” (unemployed slackers). These upgrades are easier to spot than Janice Dickinson’s “cosmetic enhancements.” And what about how your prioritize your experience? My sister reminded me that Erik from Survivor is identified as “Ice Cream Scooper.” My guess is Erik — who’s also an an Eastern Michigan University student and athlete — listed his part-time dairy duties a bit too high on his Survivor application.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because we’d rather be worth a Vows column than end up an ice-cream scooper.

Lesson 2: A Little Initiative Goes a Long Way

Nadira says:
It’s not easy to end up on reality TV. Witness the crazy lines of people hoping to be the next American idol, top model, or Real World, um, star. Never mind the ones who do multiple shows. That takes work! But for true reality initiative, look no further than Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Just about every episode has the sisters taking on some new challenge head-on. Like the time brother Rob wouldn’t introduce them to his new girl. Solution? Steal her number from his phone and interrogate her over coffee, of course. Khloe refuses to get a boyfriend? Secretly sign her up for a dating site. Duh! Even 12-year-old Kendall gets in the act. Offered some cash for chores, she contracts the work out to the local dog-walker at sweat-shop rates. Ethically questionable, for sure, but ingenious nonetheless.

Jake says:
Every issue of every newspaper is filled with people showing initiative, whether in business, sports, entertainment, or at the community level. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find stories in the paper in which nobody showed any initiative. Read about that ambition and it just might rub off. Beyond that, it takes initiative on the part of the reporters to track down stories and sources. (Significantly more initiative, I might add, then it takes Flava Flav to read cue cards.) And it takes initiative to report the news in real-time. And to meet deadlines every day in order to produce a respectable product. Stop every once in a while to appreciate the efficiency and perseverance it takes to (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) “Make it Work,” and hope that rubs off on you, too.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because you need to learn the right kind of initiative, not the kind that ends in labor abuses.

Lesson 3: The Art of the Interview

Jake says:
Just turn on Bravo. The “face-the-judges” portion of any Project Runway or Top Chef episode provides both effective and tragic strategies for handling tough interview questions. And the people answering aren’t seasoned industry leaders like the experts in the paper. They’re young, inexperienced, and prone to making mistakes we can learn from. The same goes for dating shows. Many writers (myself included) liken the interview process to dating — both involve anticipation, conversation, humiliation, and (if you get lucky) consummation. And that makes dating shows, with their over-the-top characters doing all the wrong things, like instructional videos for interviewing. Great example: I think Daisy from Rock of Love said “like” and “ya know?” at least 50 times during her video testimonials. Yikes.

Nadira says:
Point taken. What can compete with Daisy’s wide eyes and red lips, whatever the heck they’re saying? Still, the one place a newspaper really can help you is in an actual interview. Because I can’t tell you how many recruiters have told me that they’ve been most put off by candidates’ total lack of current events knowledge — in their industry and in general. And sure you could Google that info, but chances are that Google’d take you to a story that somewhere, sometime, came from a newspaper journalist. And no, cable news is not a viable alternative; you do not want to remind your interviewer of a vaguely interested anchor glossing over the meaningful issues and packaging the rest for maximum sensationalist effect. So read, for crying out loud.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because reading can’t make you sweat like Heidi Klum can.

Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll find out if Bret Michaels really can help you plan for the future…

When I heard about Whoa! My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book from a friend, I wasn’t exactly rearing to read it. While we’ve been planning lots more books coverage on The Gig, there are 50 terrible career books like this for each good one, and this one happened to be written by a Stanford classmate, Jake Greene, who, while I didn’t know him personally, was widely held to be a pretty nice guy with good ideas and access to all my personal contact information through the alumni page.

So while I steeled myself for the brush-off I’d inevitably have to give him, I gave it a flip-through. And found chapter titles like, “Get Up, Get Out, and Do Something: Fold up the futon. It’s time to get your hands dirty,” and, “40-Year-Old Q&A: Lessons in BS from Hollywood’s favorite virgin.” Then there was the “Toolish Tendencies Test” in the appendix. And once I was wooed enough to actually read, the winning opening line: “This is not another ‘Corporate Tools for Corporate Tools’ handbook.”

There was something, it seemed, to this Jake Greene guy’s approach. In fact, the 28-year-old marketing consultant was a little unexpected himself. He’s married, wore a suit(!) to meet me, and would rather talk on the real phone than e-mail or text. And he hasn’t always wanted to write a book to share his wisdom. (Hah.) Whoa! grew out of his observations on the road working for a real-estate development startup, a collection of journal entries that eventually started to look like a book.

So to start us off in our ‘08 books conversation, I thought we’d take a more unorthodox approach with this one and have some fun (before getting back to the serious stuff, of course). In Whoa!, Greene argues that pop culture’s a great prep tool for twentysomethings in the job market, especially since we all for the most part grew up on it — Cosby Show, Full House, everything ever aired on MTV. And that’s even more true today, with the rise of reality TV and all its contrived challenges.

So we decided to put some of Jake’s thinking to the test. He and I spent some time watching reality TV and reading major newspapers, then settled in to argue high-school-debate-style about which wins out in the arenas that matter, from initiative to interviewing skills, and pick winners in each. Of course, being that, as writers and Yers, we love both papers and pop culture, we had a hard time picking sides, so we tried to switch it up in each category, to keep it fair and fresh — and allow us to show all our embarrassing knowledge of the highs and lows of modern media. And when we were done, we tallied the score to crown the king of the Newspapers v. Reality TV smack-down.

So what’s better a primer for the Gen Y job-seeker? Supernanny or the New York Times? Read on to find out…

And see a quick, photo-filled version here

Lesson 1: Building a Better Resume

Nadira says:
What better resume-builder is there than the New York Times? There’s the actual careers coverage, of course, but take something like the Vows section. Every Sunday, it forces dozens of couples to distill their lives into a few hundred choice words, a skill we could all use. And what is a newspaper profile but an inside look at what people remember, how they remember it, and the many ways in which it can be spun. Which, after all, is what a good resume is all about. But perhaps the best part of reading a paper is the collected quirkyness of it—a place where politicians and athletes appear alongside Portishead and the Brooklyn Flea Market, a recent Sunday Times. It’s that kind of energy that makes the best resumes, and nothing captures it quite like a good newspaper.

Jake says:
I like your material and memory argument, but the Vows section? Really? Also, if you want to see writers mingle with washed-up band members, watch The Surreal Life. Reality TV shows viewers what can happen if they don’t take their resumes seriously. Every season premiere of The Bachelor/Bachelorette is full of “customer service specialists” (waiters) and “entrepreneurs” (unemployed slackers). These upgrades are easier to spot than Janice Dickinson’s “cosmetic enhancements.” And what about how your prioritize your experience? My sister reminded me that Erik from Survivor is identified as “Ice Cream Scooper.” My guess is Erik — who’s also an an Eastern Michigan University student and athlete — listed his part-time dairy duties a bit too high on his Survivor application.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because we’d rather be worth a Vows column than end up an ice-cream scooper.

Lesson 2: A Little Initiative Goes a Long Way

Nadira says:
It’s not easy to end up on reality TV. Witness the crazy lines of people hoping to be the next American idol, top model, or Real World, um, star. Never mind the ones who do multiple shows. That takes work! But for true reality initiative, look no further than Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Just about every episode has the sisters taking on some new challenge head-on. Like the time brother Rob wouldn’t introduce them to his new girl. Solution? Steal her number from his phone and interrogate her over coffee, of course. Khloe refuses to get a boyfriend? Secretly sign her up for a dating site. Duh! Even 12-year-old Kendall gets in the act. Offered some cash for chores, she contracts the work out to the local dog-walker at sweat-shop rates. Ethically questionable, for sure, but ingenious nonetheless.

Jake says:
Every issue of every newspaper is filled with people showing initiative, whether in business, sports, entertainment, or at the community level. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find stories in the paper in which nobody showed any initiative. Read about that ambition and it just might rub off. Beyond that, it takes initiative on the part of the reporters to track down stories and sources. (Significantly more initiative, I might add, then it takes Flava Flav to read cue cards.) And it takes initiative to report the news in real-time. And to meet deadlines every day in order to produce a respectable product. Stop every once in a while to appreciate the efficiency and perseverance it takes to (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) “Make it Work,” and hope that rubs off on you, too.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because you need to learn the right kind of initiative, not the kind that ends in labor abuses.

Lesson 3: The Art of the Interview

Jake says:
Just turn on Bravo. The “face-the-judges” portion of any Project Runway or Top Chef episode provides both effective and tragic strategies for handling tough interview questions. And the people answering aren’t seasoned industry leaders like the experts in the paper. They’re young, inexperienced, and prone to making mistakes we can learn from. The same goes for dating shows. Many writers (myself included) liken the interview process to dating — both involve anticipation, conversation, humiliation, and (if you get lucky) consummation. And that makes dating shows, with their over-the-top characters doing all the wrong things, like instructional videos for interviewing. Great example: I think Daisy from Rock of Love said “like” and “ya know?” at least 50 times during her video testimonials. Yikes.

Nadira says:
Point taken. What can compete with Daisy’s wide eyes and red lips, whatever the heck they’re saying? Still, the one place a newspaper really can help you is in an actual interview. Because I can’t tell you how many recruiters have told me that they’ve been most put off by candidates’ total lack of current events knowledge — in their industry and in general. And sure you could Google that info, but chances are that Google’d take you to a story that somewhere, sometime, came from a newspaper journalist. And no, cable news is not a viable alternative; you do not want to remind your interviewer of a vaguely interested anchor glossing over the meaningful issues and packaging the rest for maximum sensationalist effect. So read, for crying out loud.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because reading can’t make you sweat like Heidi Klum can.

Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll find out if Bret Michaels really can help you plan for the future…

Did you all see “Not-So-Personal Finance” in the New York Times this weekend? It’s a story about young people sharing their salary figures with each other — which has long been considered bad professional behavior — and the generational politics of openly discussing money and other traditionally private matters. The Times writer paints the issue, er, vividly: “As Ilana Arazie, 32, an online video producer for a media company in Manhattan, said, ‘If we can talk about how many orgasms we have with our mate, why can’t we discuss how much we make?’”

Now, for the record, you’re not likely to find me talking about how many orgasms I have with my mate anywhere ever (and certainly not in the Times), but I’ve often been told I’m conservative in this respect. And maybe that’s why I might find it strategically suspect — never mind just plain icky — to do compensation roundtables with friends. Or worse yet, to post salaries on Facebook, as the title of Times article’s web page — “Sharing Salary Figures on Facebook” — seems to suggest is happening. (The story itself doesn’t include an instance of this.) It’s one thing to share that number with very close friends or mentors, but with your whole happy-hour crew or Facebook universe? Not so much.

For those of you who aren’t yet furiously writing a comment, here’s why: If you’re a recent grad or working in an industry where early-career salaries are more or less set and/or public, it makes sense to try to get as much information as you can about what you’re worth, which often means giving specifics — such as what you’re being offered for a particular job.

But once you’ve been in a gig or in an industry for a while, salaries become an increasingly sensitive topic. Why? Because the friends you’re showing your paycheck to are often your colleagues. And if you’ve all been at your careers long enough, significant differences — in how you’re compensated, your job responsibilities, and even the level of respect you get from your superiors — are bound to emerge. Mishandle these, whether by inadvertently flaunting your own success or becoming jealous of someone else’s, and you’re in for some serious professional tension.

For instance, I have a journalism friend who is constantly coming up with cute ways to ask what I make, and judging from his/her eager expression, these inquiries aren’t made in the spirit of sharing. It’s competition, pure and simple, and while I adore this person, I’m pretty sure that if I shared the information s/he wants, we’d be the Lauren and Heidi of the friend group faster than you can say “TMI.”

Of course, I also have a colleague here at Fortune whose encouragement has been invaluable when it comes to asking for raises and whatnot. But we only talk numbers on a relatively vague, need-to-know basis. Keeping these chats hypothetical keeps us close and — in a positive sort of way — competitive, since we never quite know exactly where the other stands. (Don’t believe that the taboo still exists? Check out Fortune senior writer Annie Fisher’s latest column, “Tax rebates: A clue to co-workers’ salaries,” which is all about how to use rebate time to surreptitiously figure out what your coworkers make.)

But whatever my squeamishness, I did find the Times story’s generational explanations of this behavior amusing. As with so many things, it’s all about our childhoods. Salary.com chief compensation officer Bill Coleman cited Gen Yers’ affinity for teamwork as one reason why we might seek friends’ help to decipher salaries. And Barbara W. Keats, an associate professor of management at Arizona State University, says that our “relative lack of manners regarding salary can be traced to the self-esteem movement embraced by baby boomer parents.” As she puts it, “They’re special, and however they say things is very cute.”

It’s reductive, yes, but I don’t necessarily disagree. Many of us are still young enough that we haven’t yet had the chance to feel the backlash of revealing too much detail about our personal and professional lives. And it remains to be seen if there really will be one, or if corporate etiquette will adjust to us, the way that other corporate structures have. But regardless, it just seems to me that, in the average office, showing your economic hand can go either way — and the benefits don’t outweigh the consequences of oversharing, no matter how old you are.

But maybe I’m already too old to understand the rationale of these young movers and shakers. What about you?

As promised, here’s some practical advice to follow last week’s musings on finding romance at the office. Watching the Oscars Sunday, I got another little impromptu reminder of the relationship between work and love: In his acceptance speech, 98-year-old production design legend Robert Boyle remembered “Hitch” (as in, Alfred Hitchcock) for giving him his first big film and, yes, introducing him to his wife and lifelong companion. It’s just one more example of how romantic work can be, something that Stephanie Losee and Helaine Olen, the authors of Office Mate: The Employee Handbook for Finding — and Managing — Romance on the Job, know a little about.

The book opens with a note from each woman on how she found her perfect mate at the office. But don’t get the wrong idea: These aren’t your average chickliteers. Both are, as the book’s site jokingly puts it, “otherwise dignified journalists” who felt passionately that office romances were getting a bad rap when they might actually be the best way to find love. So the two decided to apply their journalistic verve to the topic and share the results in this witty guide to everything from “How to Indicate Interest — Without Indicating Yourself Right Out of a Job” to “When He’s Out of Your Life But Not Out of the Office Next Door.”

It’s help many of us can use. Research cited in the book indicates that half of all office workers have dated an office mate. But then, you probably could have guessed that. As Olen says, “This has been going on since men and women have worked together, since they were sowing crops in the field.” And just because work has gone high-rise and hi-tech, doesn’t mean much has changed in the romantic arena: “The physical community of yore didn’t relocate to the Internet, it relocated to the workplace,” says Losee. “That’s so much more heartening than the possibility that we’re all just sitting in our rooms, plugged in, but completely disconnected from each other.”

So if you’re thinking of making some romantic work history of your own, a few words of encouragement and strategery from our Office Mate experts…

1. Take your time.

Taking it slow is important in any relationship, but it’s crucial when considering a coworker who as could easily be your wonderful future spouse as your insane future ex. And this goes triple for we Yers, who, to put it gently, are perhaps most likely to fall prey to that disaster-waiting-to-happen otherwise known as the happy-hour hookup. (Seriously. Remember “How much is too much at happy hour?”)

“If you jump into an office relationship and turn it into a hookup, you’re not taking advantage of the one thing that meeting someone at the office offers you — the advantage of time,” says Losee. “That’s silly, and it’s just going to lead to drama.” Instead of letting Cupid catch you unawares (or, um, un-sober) at the local watering hole, take the opportunity to get to know your potential office mate as well as possible before pursuing a relationship.

2. Get out of the office.

“Just because it’s an office romance doesn’t mean it’s conducted in the office,” says Olen, who cautions against mooning over your honey in his or her cubicle, or otherwise making yourself insufferable and/or an obvious target for downsizing. This extends to technology, too: Your office romance does not count as office work, so don’t use company tools to carry it out. Because you could find yourself in any number of unpleasant situations, like one Office Mate source, who found herself facing a less-than-sympathetic boss armed with printouts of her instant messenger pillow talk. So try to avoid that.

But doom and gloom aside, knowing your office mate outside of work is ultimately good for the relationship. “You don’t want to be two soldiers in a foxhole, thrown together because you work together,” says Olen. “You want to make sure you have more to talk about than work. And if you don’t, then you should take a strong look at your relationship, because you don’t want to change jobs and realize that you need to change boyfriends.”

3. It’s all about the rules.

The biggest potential pitfall in an office romance is, of course, an office breakup. Any relationship split can be messy, but things can get especially awkward when coworkers part ways. Handle it wrong, and not only can a bad breakup ruin your reputation at work, it can end your job altogether. So our experts say, do yourself a favor and lay down some ground rules at the very start. “It’s much easier to do when you’re first dating, when you’re in love and it’s all very theoretical, than when you’re at each others’ throats,” says Olen.

And even if your partner doesn’t respect the parameters when things go awry, the key is to remain professional and above it all — even if he or she is determined to bring the drama to work and risk taking you both off a professional cliff. But chances are, Olen says, it won’t come to that: “The office romance is the last bastion of old-fashioned courting. Because you were friends, you can remain friends. And you have a different history, because you weren’t always a couple.”

4. Think normal.

Many office romantics suffer from serious anxiety. Can you tell? And if so, whom? And how much? “The first impulse when you start dating someone at the office is to drop out of the office gang,” says Losee, “because that’s the best way you can think of not to divulge anything. But you’re just alienating yourself from your network.” It’s possible, she says, to behave with dignity and intelligence, still be part of the group, and be respected for it. “Besides, they don’t want to know all the details!”

And speaking of details, avoid PDAs. Married couples don’t neck at company dinners, and neither should you. But you shouldn’t stay in hiding forever, either. “Why does etiquette exist?” Losee asks. “To make people feel comfortable. Early on, discretion makes people comfortable. And as a relationship progresses, and everyone’s aware, openness makes them comfortable.”

5. Don’t worry; no one really minds.

Somewhere, somehow, many of us got the notion that office romances were right up there with embezzlement and miniskirts on the list of corporate crimes. Not so, say the Office Mate experts. “Contrary to myth,” says Olen, “most people don’t disapprove. Well over two-thirds are happy for you or don’t care.” It’s a good idea, if you’re considering an office romance, to check if your company has an official policy on dating at work, but the truth is that many companies don’t, and those that do tend to focus on dating subordinates and other potential harassment issues.

That doesn’t mean you should keep your boss out of the loop — after all, you don’t want him or her finding out about your love affair third-hand — but you should go in as a courtesy, not cowering in fear. And believe it or not, many HR professionals are actually supportive of office romances, since nothing builds company loyalty like being in love with a coworker. There’s even evidence that after falling in love, your productivity can increase 20 percent. “It stands to reason,” explains Losee, “you’ve got that buzz on, you’re excited to come to work, you want to impress your honey. You’re committed, and you’re going to produce.”

*****

And there you have it. As it says on my wall, “Work is love made visible.” And despite all the fun that’s been made of my Kahlil Gibran optimism, I’ve found it to be true in more ways than one: I, too, have an office mate, from a previous gig (in the spirit of full, if delayed, disclosure). So what about you? I bet you guys have some office romance opinions to share. Can they work? Are they trouble? Or are we too young to even worry about it, seeing as how many of us still have to find success at work, never mind love? Tell us your thoughts, and your own office mate stories, be they fairy tales or horror stories…

As promised, here’s some practical advice to follow last week’s musings on finding romance at the office. Watching the Oscars Sunday, I got another little impromptu reminder of the relationship between work and love: In his acceptance speech, 98-year-old production design legend Robert Boyle remembered “Hitch” (as in, Alfred Hitchcock) for giving him his first big film and, yes, introducing him to his wife and lifelong companion. It’s just one more example of how romantic work can be, something that Stephanie Losee and Helaine Olen, the authors of Office Mate: The Employee Handbook for Finding — and Managing — Romance on the Job, know a little about.

The book opens with a note from each woman on how she found her perfect mate at the office. But don’t get the wrong idea: These aren’t your average chickliteers. Both are, as the book’s site jokingly puts it, “otherwise dignified journalists” who felt passionately that office romances were getting a bad rap when they might actually be the best way to find love. So the two decided to apply their journalistic verve to the topic and share the results in this witty guide to everything from “How to Indicate Interest — Without Indicating Yourself Right Out of a Job” to “When He’s Out of Your Life But Not Out of the Office Next Door.”

It’s help many of us can use. Research cited in the book indicates that half of all office workers have dated an office mate. But then, you probably could have guessed that. As Olen says, “This has been going on since men and women have worked together, since they were sowing crops in the field.” And just because work has gone high-rise and hi-tech, doesn’t mean much has changed in the romantic arena: “The physical community of yore didn’t relocate to the Internet, it relocated to the workplace,” says Losee. “That’s so much more heartening than the possibility that we’re all just sitting in our rooms, plugged in, but completely disconnected from each other.”

So if you’re thinking of making some romantic work history of your own, a few words of encouragement and strategery from our Office Mate experts…

1. Take your time.

Taking it slow is important in any relationship, but it’s crucial when considering a coworker who as could easily be your wonderful future spouse as your insane future ex. And this goes triple for we Yers, who, to put it gently, are perhaps most likely to fall prey to that disaster-waiting-to-happen otherwise known as the happy-hour hookup. (Seriously. Remember “How much is too much at happy hour?”)

“If you jump into an office relationship and turn it into a hookup, you’re not taking advantage of the one thing that meeting someone at the office offers you — the advantage of time,” says Losee. “That’s silly, and it’s just going to lead to drama.” Instead of letting Cupid catch you unawares (or, um, un-sober) at the local watering hole, take the opportunity to get to know your potential office mate as well as possible before pursuing a relationship.

2. Get out of the office.

“Just because it’s an office romance doesn’t mean it’s conducted in the office,” says Olen, who cautions against mooning over your honey in his or her cubicle, or otherwise making yourself insufferable and/or an obvious target for downsizing. This extends to technology, too: Your office romance does not count as office work, so don’t use company tools to carry it out. Because you could find yourself in any number of unpleasant situations, like one Office Mate source, who found herself facing a less-than-sympathetic boss armed with printouts of her instant messenger pillow talk. So try to avoid that.

But doom and gloom aside, knowing your office mate outside of work is ultimately good for the relationship. “You don’t want to be two soldiers in a foxhole, thrown together because you work together,” says Olen. “You want to make sure you have more to talk about than work. And if you don’t, then you should take a strong look at your relationship, because you don’t want to change jobs and realize that you need to change boyfriends.”

3. It’s all about the rules.

The biggest potential pitfall in an office romance is, of course, an office breakup. Any relationship split can be messy, but things can get especially awkward when coworkers part ways. Handle it wrong, and not only can a bad breakup ruin your reputation at work, it can end your job altogether. So our experts say, do yourself a favor and lay down some ground rules at the very start. “It’s much easier to do when you’re first dating, when you’re in love and it’s all very theoretical, than when you’re at each others’ throats,” says Olen.

And even if your partner doesn’t respect the parameters when things go awry, the key is to remain professional and above it all — even if he or she is determined to bring the drama to work and risk taking you both off a professional cliff. But chances are, Olen says, it won’t come to that: “The office romance is the last bastion of old-fashioned courting. Because you were friends, you can remain friends. And you have a different history, because you weren’t always a couple.”

4. Think normal.

Many office romantics suffer from serious anxiety. Can you tell? And if so, whom? And how much? “The first impulse when you start dating someone at the office is to drop out of the office gang,” says Losee, “because that’s the best way you can think of not to divulge anything. But you’re just alienating yourself from your network.” It’s possible, she says, to behave with dignity and intelligence, still be part of the group, and be respected for it. “Besides, they don’t want to know all the details!”

And speaking of details, avoid PDAs. Married couples don’t neck at company dinners, and neither should you. But you shouldn’t stay in hiding forever, either. “Why does etiquette exist?” Losee asks. “To make people feel comfortable. Early on, discretion makes people comfortable. And as a relationship progresses, and everyone’s aware, openness makes them comfortable.”

5. Don’t worry; no one really minds.

Somewhere, somehow, many of us got the notion that office romances were right up there with embezzlement and miniskirts on the list of corporate crimes. Not so, say the Office Mate experts. “Contrary to myth,” says Olen, “most people don’t disapprove. Well over two-thirds are happy for you or don’t care.” It’s a good idea, if you’re considering an office romance, to check if your company has an official policy on dating at work, but the truth is that many companies don’t, and those that do tend to focus on dating subordinates and other potential harassment issues.

That doesn’t mean you should keep your boss out of the loop — after all, you don’t want him or her finding out about your love affair third-hand — but you should go in as a courtesy, not cowering in fear. And believe it or not, many HR professionals are actually supportive of office romances, since nothing builds company loyalty like being in love with a coworker. There’s even evidence that after falling in love, your productivity can increase 20 percent. “It stands to reason,” explains Losee, “you’ve got that buzz on, you’re excited to come to work, you want to impress your honey. You’re committed, and you’re going to produce.”

*****

And there you have it. As it says on my wall, “Work is love made visible.” And despite all the fun that’s been made of my Kahlil Gibran optimism, I’ve found it to be true in more ways than one: I, too, have an office mate, from a previous gig (in the spirit of full, if delayed, disclosure). So what about you? I bet you guys have some office romance opinions to share. Can they work? Are they trouble? Or are we too young to even worry about it, seeing as how many of us still have to find success at work, never mind love? Tell us your thoughts, and your own office mate stories, be they fairy tales or horror stories…

Hello, everybody! Hope your 2008 is off to an amazing start, and despite all appearances to the contrary, I have not in fact fled to a foreign country in an effort to shirk my Gig duties. Actually, I got a nasty flu and decided to spare you guys the NyQuil-induced ramblings. (And hey, I did say I’d be back in January, and technically, it is still January, right? )

But it was lovely to come back to your sweet letters, and Gig reader Juan gets a special shout-out for threatening to seek therapy if I didn’t get back to work. So in the interest of Juan’s mental health — and let’s be honest, my own; I missed you guys! — let’s get to it. We’ve got some new stuff in store that I’ll be excited to get your thoughts on, but in the New Year’s tradition, I thought we’d start with a bit of reflection. By that I mean, it’s been a few weeks since last we spoke, and in my acetaminophen haze, I had a lot of time to think. So today, friends, I’m going to torture you with…

WHAT I LEARNED OVER THE BREAK

(or “5 maudlin semi-epiphanies that are sure to infuriate Yadgyu, which only further motivates me to share them”)

Be forewarned, I really have missed you guys, and it shows in the treatise that follows. So apologies in advance. And in case you don’t make it to the end, we’d love to hear about your recent semi-epiphanies, so comment away.

1. We’re too old to spend two straight weeks at Mom’s.

Remember when you used to come home on a break and, as annoyed as you might’ve been at your parents, you kind of loved vegging at home? Well, I think those days might need to be over, at least for me and all of the other should-be independent twentysomething people we know and love.

Regular readers have probably by now ascertained that my family’s pretty tight (i.e. if we were any closer, we’d be sardines). And yet, when the kids decided that this holiday, we’d kick it old school and spend all our time off at Mom’s, we didn’t really know what we were in for.

Our hearts were in the right place; this was her first Christmas in a new house and we wanted to give her as many opportunities to cook ginormous meals as possible. But seriously, by about Dec. 28, we’d each gained 10 pounds and reverted to our worst, whiniest, most awfully teenage incarnation.

So while it’s true what we’ve often said here — that while for many Yers, there’s often nothing our moms would like better than to have us home — it’s time to have our own homes! And maybe even host our own holiday parties! The kind our parents can come to, with, like, real wine and no passing out. Sheesh.

2. We’re not too old to play Wii till 4 a.m.

The preceding tirade notwithstanding, it turns out that one good thing about regressing to childhood at home is remembering that there are some seemingly childish things that are pretty darn awesome — including, but not limited to, the Wii, hot chocolate, Legos and Animal Planet.

And incredibly, when you indulge (a bit) in these extravagances, you often come to the realization that this stuff is at least as cool as standing around at a cocktail party trying to sound smart and wishing you were home watching Adult Swim. Which is what I for one often found myself doing when I got my first real gig and suddenly started worrying about being taken seriously by my legitimately grown-up colleagues.

But as I get legitimately older myself (officially identified a wrinkle, FYI) and vaguely more secure, I’m finding that my favorite Gen Y “characteristics,” to the extent that those exist, are all our little paradoxes. Love the environment/drive an SUV. Most educated people ever/obsessed with MTV. Grew up too fast/can’t get out of our parents’ houses to save our lives. (And before you letter-writers get going, I am speaking very generally here, folks.)

So yes, sure we want to be — and should want to be — adults, but a little Wii never hurt anyone. At least not if you keep your Wii jacket on, take breaks, and clear all the furniture out of your living room. And more importantly, it does keep you from turning into into Holden Caulfield’s long-lost angstier twin, even if you do spend an eternity at your Mom’s.

3. We’re finally just old enough to learn the good stuff.

There was an upside to the aforementioned eternity, though. When we were small, our mom worked a full day; cooked dinner every evening; sewed, papier-mâché’d, and otherwise “project”ed with us every night; and still found time to be best friends with our teachers and know all our business.

As a kid, you take that good stuff for granted and ask yourself why, oh, why, you’ve been cursed with a mom who won’t just take you to McDonald’s. By the time you go away to school, you appreciate it enough to miss the nourishment, but not quite enough to understand the labor. But once you’re out in the world with a real job and bills to pay, well, then you start to get it. (Forget kids; my fish would file a petition of neglect if they could.)

Talk about your self-esteem killers. My poor sister and I will so never be as anything as our mom. Which is why this break, what with the eternity we spent at home, we actually got the chance to ask some questions and learn some things. And not the encyclopedia factoids and oft-repeated lectures we groaned at in our argumentative youth, either. But some things that are actually worth knowing, like recipes for the West Indian dishes we grew up eating, the patterns for our favorite sundresses, and the full-length versions of family ghost stories we’ve been hearing in snippets for years.

It shouldn’t be all that long before we (gasp) have our own children, and if we want to be even decent approximations of the good older people in our lives, we’d better start asking the right questions now. There isn’t much of a precedent for that in our country, and goodness knows we Yers are sometimes considered the worst offenders when it comes to valuing our elders, but I do know that we value expertise, and more often than not, the people who raised us have some that’s worth sharing.

4. Sometimes, you just have to say, “Look how amazing I am.”

As little as we know, there is something to be said for a little self-affirmation in spite of it all. Consider my brother Kamran, the RIT freshman. We’re all sitting at the dinner table over the holiday, chatting away, and our mom gets a call from one of the engineers at her office, who was dealing with a problem. She hangs up, shares some (general and totally over my head) details with us, and Kam says, “Oh, so he has to replace the filament.” Mom says something along the lines of, “Yes, precisely, exactly, quite right,” our collective eyes glaze over, and somewhere in the ensuing self-absorbed silence, Kam says to himself, and I kid you not: “Look at how amazing I am.”

Laughter, of course, erupts. But he’s so far off in his own world that he seems a tad confused about the reaction, still smiling to himself over his little triumph. Obviously, he suffered merciless derision the rest of the holiday (for this and his sheepish admission that, until this Christmas, he thought Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” was in fact called “Hullabaloo Christmas” — classic).

But my mom rightly pointed out that for a kid who, after getting his first 80-something on an elementary school spelling test, spent the entire afternoon with a sheet over his face, emerging only to cry, “I’m the only one who gets B’s in the family,” some quiet self-regard was a big deal, as it should be. So regard yourself quietly, and remember how amazing you are. Just don’t tell your siblings, if they’re the sort that, you know, live to mock you.

5. A good job is like a good boyfriend.

And that, dear readers, is why I’ve been gone so long. Because, if I’m being honest, I’d tried to open my apartment door with my office key just one too many times. And had even answered my cell phone, “Fortune,” on more than one occasion. Never mind the sad realization that, as far as my brain was concerned, I’d used and abused every word I had to give, and might in fact have had nothing left to say. My work boundaries were so fluid that I was drowning on and off the job, and that does not a good life — or good Gig writing — make.

But as the proverbial “they” say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. And with a few weeks away from you and the real-life boyfriend, I’ve returned excited to see you both, with new and (I hope) interesting things to talk about, and a fair amount of starry-eyed optimism about what this year might hold. If you’ve read this far, you’re feeling pretty optimistic, too (certainly about the outside possibility that this’ll end up being worthwhile reading ). And you can probably also tell that, whatever I might say, as monstrously long as this post has been, I obviously missed writing to and for you. And that’s just the kind of re-discovery I’m hoping is in store for all of us. So here’s to making our work work for us in 2008. It’s going to be fun.

Allrighty then. Guess I did miss pontificating with you guys. But now that we’re done with that, on to the 56 million new posts I’ve been planning. And in the meantime, if my musings got you to thinking, let us know what you learned — or un-learned — since last we blogged…

Hello, everybody! Hope your 2008 is off to an amazing start, and despite all appearances to the contrary, I have not in fact fled to a foreign country in an effort to shirk my Gig duties. Actually, I got a nasty flu and decided to spare you guys the NyQuil-induced ramblings. (And hey, I did say I’d be back in January, and technically, it is still January, right? )

But it was lovely to come back to your sweet letters, and Gig reader Juan gets a special shout-out for threatening to seek therapy if I didn’t get back to work. So in the interest of Juan’s mental health — and let’s be honest, my own; I missed you guys! — let’s get to it. We’ve got some new stuff in store that I’ll be excited to get your thoughts on, but in the New Year’s tradition, I thought we’d start with a bit of reflection. By that I mean, it’s been a few weeks since last we spoke, and in my acetaminophen haze, I had a lot of time to think. So today, friends, I’m going to torture you with…

WHAT I LEARNED OVER THE BREAK

(or “5 maudlin semi-epiphanies that are sure to infuriate Yadgyu, which only further motivates me to share them”)

Be forewarned, I really have missed you guys, and it shows in the treatise that follows. So apologies in advance. And in case you don’t make it to the end, we’d love to hear about your recent semi-epiphanies, so comment away.

1. We’re too old to spend two straight weeks at Mom’s.

Remember when you used to come home on a break and, as annoyed as you might’ve been at your parents, you kind of loved vegging at home? Well, I think those days might need to be over, at least for me and all of the other should-be independent twentysomething people we know and love.

Regular readers have probably by now ascertained that my family’s pretty tight (i.e. if we were any closer, we’d be sardines). And yet, when the kids decided that this holiday, we’d kick it old school and spend all our time off at Mom’s, we didn’t really know what we were in for.

Our hearts were in the right place; this was her first Christmas in a new house and we wanted to give her as many opportunities to cook ginormous meals as possible. But seriously, by about Dec. 28, we’d each gained 10 pounds and reverted to our worst, whiniest, most awfully teenage incarnation.

So while it’s true what we’ve often said here — that while for many Yers, there’s often nothing our moms would like better than to have us home — it’s time to have our own homes! And maybe even host our own holiday parties! The kind our parents can come to, with, like, real wine and no passing out. Sheesh.

2. We’re not too old to play Wii till 4 a.m.

The preceding tirade notwithstanding, it turns out that one good thing about regressing to childhood at home is remembering that there are some seemingly childish things that are pretty darn awesome — including, but not limited to, the Wii, hot chocolate, Legos and Animal Planet.

And incredibly, when you indulge (a bit) in these extravagances, you often come to the realization that this stuff is at least as cool as standing around at a cocktail party trying to sound smart and wishing you were home watching Adult Swim. Which is what I for one often found myself doing when I got my first real gig and suddenly started worrying about being taken seriously by my legitimately grown-up colleagues.

But as I get legitimately older myself (officially identified a wrinkle, FYI) and vaguely more secure, I’m finding that my favorite Gen Y “characteristics,” to the extent that those exist, are all our little paradoxes. Love the environment/drive an SUV. Most educated people ever/obsessed with MTV. Grew up too fast/can’t get out of our parents’ houses to save our lives. (And before you letter-writers get going, I am speaking very generally here, folks.)

So yes, sure we want to be — and should want to be — adults, but a little Wii never hurt anyone. At least not if you keep your Wii jacket on, take breaks, and clear all the furniture out of your living room. And more importantly, it does keep you from turning into into Holden Caulfield’s long-lost angstier twin, even if you do spend an eternity at your Mom’s.

3. We’re finally just old enough to learn the good stuff.

There was an upside to the aforementioned eternity, though. When we were small, our mom worked a full day; cooked dinner every evening; sewed, papier-mâché’d, and otherwise “project”ed with us every night; and still found time to be best friends with our teachers and know all our business.

As a kid, you take that good stuff for granted and ask yourself why, oh, why, you’ve been cursed with a mom who won’t just take you to McDonald’s. By the time you go away to school, you appreciate it enough to miss the nourishment, but not quite enough to understand the labor. But once you’re out in the world with a real job and bills to pay, well, then you start to get it. (Forget kids; my fish would file a petition of neglect if they could.)

Talk about your self-esteem killers. My poor sister and I will so never be as anything as our mom. Which is why this break, what with the eternity we spent at home, we actually got the chance to ask some questions and learn some things. And not the encyclopedia factoids and oft-repeated lectures we groaned at in our argumentative youth, either. But some things that are actually worth knowing, like recipes for the West Indian dishes we grew up eating, the patterns for our favorite sundresses, and the full-length versions of family ghost stories we’ve been hearing in snippets for years.

It shouldn’t be all that long before we (gasp) have our own children, and if we want to be even decent approximations of the good older people in our lives, we’d better start asking the right questions now. There isn’t much of a precedent for that in our country, and goodness knows we Yers are sometimes considered the worst offenders when it comes to valuing our elders, but I do know that we value expertise, and more often than not, the people who raised us have some that’s worth sharing.

4. Sometimes, you just have to say, “Look how amazing I am.”

As little as we know, there is something to be said for a little self-affirmation in spite of it all. Consider my brother Kamran, the RIT freshman. We’re all sitting at the dinner table over the holiday, chatting away, and our mom gets a call from one of the engineers at her office, who was dealing with a problem. She hangs up, shares some (general and totally over my head) details with us, and Kam says, “Oh, so he has to replace the filament.” Mom says something along the lines of, “Yes, precisely, exactly, quite right,” our collective eyes glaze over, and somewhere in the ensuing self-absorbed silence, Kam says to himself, and I kid you not: “Look at how amazing I am.”

Laughter, of course, erupts. But he’s so far off in his own world that he seems a tad confused about the reaction, still smiling to himself over his little triumph. Obviously, he suffered merciless derision the rest of the holiday (for this and his sheepish admission that, until this Christmas, he thought Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” was in fact called “Hullabaloo Christmas” — classic).

But my mom rightly pointed out that for a kid who, after getting his first 80-something on an elementary school spelling test, spent the entire afternoon with a sheet over his face, emerging only to cry, “I’m the only one who gets B’s in the family,” some quiet self-regard was a big deal, as it should be. So regard yourself quietly, and remember how amazing you are. Just don’t tell your siblings, if they’re the sort that, you know, live to mock you.

5. A good job is like a good boyfriend.

And that, dear readers, is why I’ve been gone so long. Because, if I’m being honest, I’d tried to open my apartment door with my office key just one too many times. And had even answered my cell phone, “Fortune,” on more than one occasion. Never mind the sad realization that, as far as my brain was concerned, I’d used and abused every word I had to give, and might in fact have had nothing left to say. My work boundaries were so fluid that I was drowning on and off the job, and that does not a good life — or good Gig writing — make.

But as the proverbial “they” say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. And with a few weeks away from you and the real-life boyfriend, I’ve returned excited to see you both, with new and (I hope) interesting things to talk about, and a fair amount of starry-eyed optimism about what this year might hold. If you’ve read this far, you’re feeling pretty optimistic, too (certainly about the outside possibility that this’ll end up being worthwhile reading ). And you can probably also tell that, whatever I might say, as monstrously long as this post has been, I obviously missed writing to and for you. And that’s just the kind of re-discovery I’m hoping is in store for all of us. So here’s to making our work work for us in 2008. It’s going to be fun.

Allrighty then. Guess I did miss pontificating with you guys. But now that we’re done with that, on to the 56 million new posts I’ve been planning. And in the meantime, if my musings got you to thinking, let us know what you learned — or un-learned — since last we blogged…