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.

Just when I think the Gen Y conversation’s gone stale, a new theme emerges that proves me wrong, and this year, it was a social one. But perhaps not the one you’d expect: It wasn’t social responsibility, or even social networking, but (our lack of) social connection, and by extension, aptitude. If it seems I’ve been harping on this a bit (witness “Making true connections in a Facebook world”), I have — because this might be the area where we have the most to learn, and the most to lose if we don’t learn it.

What better time to start those lessons, then, than right now, as many of us head home to family and holiday parties galore this December, situations that often traditionally elicit at least as much dread and drinking as goodwill? So this December, I vote we actually (gasp) talk to people, and (double–gasp) mean it. As New Year’s resolutions go, it’s a basic one, I know. But after all my cheerleading and translating for our cohort, I’ve also learned a few things about where we fall down. And making substantive connections, whether they’re on or off the web, is increasingly becoming one of those places, especially if what I’ve been hearing from you all is any indication.

Consider Hannah Seligson’s November New York Times story, “For Help Finding a Job, Friends in Low Places.” Hannah, a Gen Y author I met when I wrote about her book last year, told me I might be the “contrarian” voice in her piece, which explored Yers’ efforts to utilize their peer network — instead of, say, their parents’ friends — to find job opportunities. Hardly in a rush to read my curmudgeonly comments, I waited a while to read the story.

And then an odd thing happened: I started to get e-mails and calls from people (my own younger sister included) thanking me for being honest and realistic about what one Yer might have to offer another, especially over something like Facebook. “It’s very easy to just send out a friend request,” I’d told Hannah, “but when you are looking for jobs, you want to make sure your peer network is comprised of people who can speak to your qualities, not just vouch for you as a friend on Facebook.” It certainly wasn’t revolutionary, but it resonated, likely because — like me — many of you are finding yourselves drawing that new distinction between Facebook friends and real ones, too. And let’s just say Facebook friends don’t always make great references, mentors, or, well, friends.

So in the interest of having real relationships, let’s treat every connection we make from now on as sincerely as possible. And let’s keep the connections we already have from going generic. That friend you only see on IM? Drag him or her out to lunch. If you’re home this break, take the time to catch up with old friends in person, rather than updating them via Facebook status (or relying on that most formidable of networks, the Former PTA Moms Phone Tree).

Or if you run into someone you haven’t seen in a while on Facebook, take the time to write a quick note instead of sending a blank friend request. This makes you a person, instead of a profile your would-be friend has to poke around in till s/he remembers who you are and confirms that you aren’t insane. (And this goes double for people you don’t know, but would like to; they’ll be much more likely to respond to an “I love your work!” than nothing at all.)

Even when it comes to folks who’ve made themselves available as part of your university alumni network or company mentoring program, reach out to them first as an individual and second as an opportunity. And always do it with some humility and gratitude. After all, there’s a huge difference between an e-mail that says, “You’re in a field I love, and I’d really appreciate a bit of advice,” and one that says, “Here are the three jobs I’d like at your company, and my resume’s attached.” (Both of which I’ve gotten, by the way.)

The moral of the story: Use all the tools available to you, but use them to build relationships, not just networks, social or otherwise. A Boomer parent/executive stopped to chat with me recently about the seeming contradiction between Gen Yers’ affinity for technology and our need for interpersonal connection, and as we wrestled with it, he said something that stuck with me: “The technology is actually getting us back to where we used to be.” A few generations ago, one’s hometown alone offered a lifetime’s worth of deep connections. In today’s sprawling, mobile, hyperactive world, not so much. And while technology’s helping us to (re)create some of that community online, we’re still a long way from replicating the lasting bonds that used to form naturally in our neighborhoods and help shape us into the people we were supposed to become.

Good news is, those bonds still do exist in the real world. So, as a present to ourselves and everyone who’ll ever have to know us, let’s go get them back.

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?

Every time politics comes up in my household – especially these days – it ends up being a very long conversation. It was no different the other day, when a colleague stopped by for a visit. Except that the discussion wasn’t about John McCain or Barack Obama or even a policy question; it was about how uncomfortable we are talking about the candidates in the office – and how much more comfortable others seem to be.

We’re both in media, both Gen Y, both cool-enough downtown girls (we hope). Yet based on the venting going on in my living room that afternoon, we also seem to have deep-seated issues with how the exciting general political climate has translated into what should be the less-dramatic workplace.

And we’re not just talking about old-school corporate institutions here. My friend works at an openly liberal entertainment media company, which might explain why some of her coworkers feel it’s alright to do some Barack Obama organizing in the office. But even at a company that’s in the business of ideology – one where you might think you know everyone’s views — it’s almost never a good idea to take the conversation from the general to the specific by, you know, doing things like sending group invites to Obama events to the entire work e-mail list.

By now, we should all be saying, Stop it. Nobody sent out Obama fliers to their office list. That would be crazy. (Everybody knows, and this New York Times story will confirm, that even political paraphernalia in your own office is bad, never mind in everyone else’s inbox.) But that’s where, apparently, we’d all be wrong. Because this is exactly the situation that got my friend going in the first place. And not necessarily because she’s not an Obama supporter. Sending what amounts to political advertising to all your colleagues – particularly if you’re at a company of more than, say, three people, and don’t know everyone’s feelings on the matter — is about as tactful as filling their in-boxes with Scripture. Put plainly: Not cool.

Now, I have to admit that when I brought this outrage up with my sister, expecting equal amounts of ire, her response surprised me. Social justice-minded 23-year-old who she is, she went in six seconds from, “That’s an, um, conservative tack for you take,” to, “Why isn’t it okay to say, ‘anyone who thinks coastal oil drilling is a good idea is an idiot’ at work?!”

Maybe she’s right to feel that, in the face of problems we have today, your comfort or mine shouldn’t be her primary concern. But here’s the trouble: When you take that fight to a coworker, you’re assuming that they agree with you, and if they don’t, you’re forcing them to pretend they do, or admit they don’t, opening the door to a potentially volatile situation.

That’s all well and good at three in the morning sitting around the old freshman dorm, but it doesn’t work in the office. When it comes right down to it, most of us are at work to achieve our own and our company’s goals, not to have values debates. And no matter how ideological your business, if the last decade of election results are any indication, for every person with your opinions, there’s at least one other person with completely opposite views. There’s probably at least one of those people on your office e-mail list, whether they’re “out” about it or not. And every time you choose to ignore that, you risk alienating that person.

Not only is that kind of friction – be it overt or covert – going to be detrimental to achieving your career goals, it’s bad behavior. Part of being human, never mind American, is respecting other people’s right to be who they are, and when it comes to something as intensely personal as one’s vote, well, what’s more fundamental than that?

None of this should be breaking news. It wasn’t so long ago that talking politics — or religion, or money, or relationships – at the office was considered a serious faux pas. But as we’ve said before (e.g. “Your salary: Don’t ask, don’t tell?”), that list of taboos is getting shorter, and obviously, for some people, it no longer includes politics. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s so much a conscious decision as a kind of (usually) benign obliviousness. And I’d like to believe that if the people doing the political proselytizing really knew how it was perceived, they might do things a little differently.

So, by all means, talk politics. Talk about what an amazing, historic election this is, what a committed electorate we suddenly have, or what strong contenders our candidates have become. Just do it with the same decorum and care you’d use with any other sensitive subject. And realize that, even when you think you’re being careful and measured in your casual chatter, someone with different opinions might not see it that way. (It’s hard, for instance, to say you think anyone who’s pro-coastal drilling is an idiot without being just a tad pejorative.)

While it might be fine to go there with close friends, or even coworkers who are also close friends, chances are you aren’t close to everyone you work with, so better to leave the controversy at home (or at the bar, or at the local Greenpeace chapter – whatever floats your boat. Or, er, sinks it. See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.)

Even more, if you see a fellow Gen Yer – or anyone for that matter — heading into dangerous territory, consider finding a kind and subtle way to tell them so. And remember, too, that when this sort of thing goes on, it allows older folks to see us as a monolith. If you’re young and vaguely hip, whatever your actual opinions are, you’re assumed to be an Obama fan. Sure, Obama has had unbelievable success using Facebook and other Gen Y-friendly strategies, but that doesn’t mean every Yer’s a Barack booster.

And even if am a fan – and hey, I might be – nobody likes being stuffed in a box like that, especially when it comes to politics, and in an election as hotly contested as this one.

(Some of you longtime Gig fans will no doubt be thinking, But Nads, this is what we do every week: Generalize about Gen Y! Okay, but that’s in the service of understanding each other and explaining ourselves, not marginalizing each other’s perspectives. And some of it’s even based on actual observation and research! But it’s nice – and important – to be reminded that, in reality, we’re dealing with individuals. Sometimes we may act like we share a brain, but we don’t. For the most part.)

Call it my conservative (lowercase “c,” guys) New England upbringing, or just my nice-guy empathy for differing viewpoints, but we’re at work to be put upon by our bosses, not other people’s politics. And let’s be honest, the world is better that way: When I got one of those Obama blasts on our own work list, I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if someone had responded with “Go McCain” or some such. A-w-k-w-a-r-d.

So have you noticed it, too? Do you have your own tales of inappropriate office politics to tell? Or do I just need to loosen up?

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…

Ask most people what they think of tattoos, and you get a pretty good idea of who they are. Impassioned rants abound on both sides of this unlikely hot-button issue, from former soldiers and athletes who wear their body art as badges of honor, to girlfriends and wives who cringe every time their partners expose a bicep, to mothers forced to acknowledge that their own daughters are in fact in possession of the hilariously named “tramp stamp.” (Joke all you want, but that last one so happened on Real Housewives of the O.C.)

So it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that if you ask a corporate executive what she or he thinks of the tat revolution, you get a pretty good idea of “who” his (or her) company is. A tad reductive, I know, but it’s something that first occurred to me last year, after a conversation with a very senior exec at a television network. He asked me about The Gig, which was launching right around then, and by way of explanation, I said something like: “It’s for our younger readers, to discuss everything from getting a raise from an obnoxious boss to incorporating tattoos into your corporate office.” He thought for a second, then asked, “So how do you?”

As it turned out, he wasn’t quite sold on the whole idea of tattoos in the office yet, despite working in the seemingly hipster-rife world of television. It also turned out that, after our meeting that day, I was heading down to Invisible NYC, to get inked for the first time. According to a study by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press that I’d just written about, more than a third of 18- to 25-year-olds had a tattoo, and 30 percent had a piercing somewhere other than their earlobe. So I shared that with him. As for the anecdotal answer, I promised to let him know.

In retrospect, it must have seemed funny to him – a Fortune writer in her Sunday best on her way down to the Lower East Side for what amounted to a family field trip to a tattoo artist. (My brother was turning 18, campaigning for some ink, and big sisters couldn’t resist getting in the act.) But we weren’t the first suburban clan to grace the halls of Invisible NYC, and judging from stories like this one in the Christian Science Monitor last month, we’ll be far from the last.

But while the piece suggests that, at least in the short term, some concerned managers may be taking anti-tat measures, there’s more openness than one might expect. Recently, another senior executive at a major financial services firm told me that, if he worried too much about tattoos and piercings, he’d have to turn away too many otherwise stellar prospects. So he didn’t worry. Never mind that, in a few more years, he could see having more tatted and pierced candidates than not — “I’d never hire anybody, at that rate,” he said, laughing. So despite his company’s client-heavy business, squeaky-clean reputation, and notoriously high standards, body art in his mind isn’t - or better put, couldn’t be — much of a recruiting concern.

Now, I’m sure he isn’t going to be hiring anyone from Miami Ink anytime soon. And for those conservative clients who’d still prefer women in stockings and men in suits, his service professionals no doubt dress to accommodate - and likely wear too much clothing to show any real skin. (After all, we’re a reasonable bunch, and it’s good business that pays for our body embellishments, so I’d like to believe that most of us would suffer long sleeves to keep our clients.)

But given all that, when the financial services exec sees a young person — or any person, for that matter — with a tattoo or piercing, it doesn’t automatically scream, “Rebellious vagrant not worth the chair I’d put him in, which he’d probably steal anyway.” Sadly, I think that’s exactly what the TV exec was hearing every time he thought about it. Hence his struggle reconciling a seemingly decent and well-mannered me with the specter of a tattooed troublemaker.

Little did he know that my village-dwelling Indian ancestors have been getting tattooed for centuries. Sure, it skipped a couple of generations (way to go, colonialism), but what was a cultural rite of passage for them has become a meaningful form of expression for me, not a regrettable sign of teenage angst or a willful attempt at self-sabotage. And I think many of us, we of the much discussed funky T-shirt and blue jeans tribe, would say the same, whatever our ancestry.

Where for some of older colleagues, tattooed or not, body art was something to hide in polite company - the sign of a reckless weekend or questionable background – it’s become so ubiquitous that it borders on the mainstream. So much so that, as the New York Times’Ruth La Ferla recently reported, even the needle-shy can get a faux version, a sort of pop-cultural prop, for some extra wow on a night out.

In short, the accepted and acceptable aesthetics are changing, and it’s the higher-ups who can appreciate that shift in thinking, and get over it, who will ultimately reap its benefits. As the editor who brought me to Fortune told me when I came, “You look different, you dress different, you sound different, you are different, and I want you to be different here.” And all I had back then was an upstart attitude and a nose ring.

But then, as deputy managing editor Hank Gilman demonstrated to me just the other day, as I waxed self-righteous about my plight as a vaguely edgy young person, even different starts to fit in, fade away, and eventually work when you’re part of a good team. “You don’t have a nose ring,” he said, incredulous at the mention of this potentially transgressive piece of jewelry. And upon my inelegant Vanna White-inspired highlighting of the little diamond in my nostril, he replied, matter-of-factly, “Oh, that’s a nose stud.” And that, folks, is the wisdom of leadership.

So are Hank and I living in a media bubble, or are your offices feeling it, too? From tellers with full sleeves to teachers with ankle art, this seems to be becoming the norm, but it may take a while for corporate-types to acknowledge, let alone give in. Are they right, or are you already making a statement with your tribal arm band? As always, we’d love to hear your thoughts…

Ask most people what they think of tattoos, and you get a pretty good idea of who they are. Impassioned rants abound on both sides of this unlikely hot-button issue, from former soldiers and athletes who wear their body art as badges of honor, to girlfriends and wives who cringe every time their partners expose a bicep, to mothers forced to acknowledge that their own daughters are in fact in possession of the hilariously named “tramp stamp.” (Joke all you want, but that last one so happened on Real Housewives of the O.C.)

So it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that if you ask a corporate executive what she or he thinks of the tat revolution, you get a pretty good idea of “who” his (or her) company is. A tad reductive, I know, but it’s something that first occurred to me last year, after a conversation with a very senior exec at a television network. He asked me about The Gig, which was launching right around then, and by way of explanation, I said something like: “It’s for our younger readers, to discuss everything from getting a raise from an obnoxious boss to incorporating tattoos into your corporate office.” He thought for a second, then asked, “So how do you?”

As it turned out, he wasn’t quite sold on the whole idea of tattoos in the office yet, despite working in the seemingly hipster-rife world of television. It also turned out that, after our meeting that day, I was heading down to Invisible NYC, to get inked for the first time. According to a study by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press that I’d just written about, more than a third of 18- to 25-year-olds had a tattoo, and 30 percent had a piercing somewhere other than their earlobe. So I shared that with him. As for the anecdotal answer, I promised to let him know.

In retrospect, it must have seemed funny to him – a Fortune writer in her Sunday best on her way down to the Lower East Side for what amounted to a family field trip to a tattoo artist. (My brother was turning 18, campaigning for some ink, and big sisters couldn’t resist getting in the act.) But we weren’t the first suburban clan to grace the halls of Invisible NYC, and judging from stories like this one in the Christian Science Monitor last month, we’ll be far from the last.

But while the piece suggests that, at least in the short term, some concerned managers may be taking anti-tat measures, there’s more openness than one might expect. Recently, another senior executive at a major financial services firm told me that, if he worried too much about tattoos and piercings, he’d have to turn away too many otherwise stellar prospects. So he didn’t worry. Never mind that, in a few more years, he could see having more tatted and pierced candidates than not — “I’d never hire anybody, at that rate,” he said, laughing. So despite his company’s client-heavy business, squeaky-clean reputation, and notoriously high standards, body art in his mind isn’t - or better put, couldn’t be — much of a recruiting concern.

Now, I’m sure he isn’t going to be hiring anyone from Miami Ink anytime soon. And for those conservative clients who’d still prefer women in stockings and men in suits, his service professionals no doubt dress to accommodate - and likely wear too much clothing to show any real skin. (After all, we’re a reasonable bunch, and it’s good business that pays for our body embellishments, so I’d like to believe that most of us would suffer long sleeves to keep our clients.)

But given all that, when the financial services exec sees a young person — or any person, for that matter — with a tattoo or piercing, it doesn’t automatically scream, “Rebellious vagrant not worth the chair I’d put him in, which he’d probably steal anyway.” Sadly, I think that’s exactly what the TV exec was hearing every time he thought about it. Hence his struggle reconciling a seemingly decent and well-mannered me with the specter of a tattooed troublemaker.

Little did he know that my village-dwelling Indian ancestors have been getting tattooed for centuries. Sure, it skipped a couple of generations (way to go, colonialism), but what was a cultural rite of passage for them has become a meaningful form of expression for me, not a regrettable sign of teenage angst or a willful attempt at self-sabotage. And I think many of us, we of the much discussed funky T-shirt and blue jeans tribe, would say the same, whatever our ancestry.

Where for some of older colleagues, tattooed or not, body art was something to hide in polite company - the sign of a reckless weekend or questionable background – it’s become so ubiquitous that it borders on the mainstream. So much so that, as the New York Times’Ruth La Ferla recently reported, even the needle-shy can get a faux version, a sort of pop-cultural prop, for some extra wow on a night out.

In short, the accepted and acceptable aesthetics are changing, and it’s the higher-ups who can appreciate that shift in thinking, and get over it, who will ultimately reap its benefits. As the editor who brought me to Fortune told me when I came, “You look different, you dress different, you sound different, you are different, and I want you to be different here.” And all I had back then was an upstart attitude and a nose ring.

But then, as deputy managing editor Hank Gilman demonstrated to me just the other day, as I waxed self-righteous about my plight as a vaguely edgy young person, even different starts to fit in, fade away, and eventually work when you’re part of a good team. “You don’t have a nose ring,” he said, incredulous at the mention of this potentially transgressive piece of jewelry. And upon my inelegant Vanna White-inspired highlighting of the little diamond in my nostril, he replied, matter-of-factly, “Oh, that’s a nose stud.” And that, folks, is the wisdom of leadership.

So are Hank and I living in a media bubble, or are your offices feeling it, too? From tellers with full sleeves to teachers with ankle art, this seems to be becoming the norm, but it may take a while for corporate-types to acknowledge, let alone give in. Are they right, or are you already making a statement with your tribal arm band? As always, we’d love to hear your thoughts…

We’re going to be talking compensation for the next few days since this is the time many of us start to think about ‘08  raises — and, more importantly, how to ask for them. To begin, check out our new video, “Asking for your first raise.” (And before anyone says a word, I was channeling my inner librarian that day ;o).

Speaking of video, I  spent some time at a company event the other day where it seemed like everyone had watched our little off-the-cuff holiday party piece. And aside from the good-natured teasing, quite a few people asked if office holiday parties were really the right place to talk about work. I must confess that this made me smile; all anybody ever wants to talk about at these things is work. (Unless of course, they’re sauced, which is an entirely different problem.) So why not make it constructive, instead of the venting session that it usually turns out to be?

And let’s be clear, I’m not suggesting anyone accost the boss in the bathroom with a five-year plan and compensation demands. Only that, given that you’ll be spending a few hours at a work event with coworkers who will inevitably bring up work anyway, it might not be such a bad idea to have a few casual agenda items of your own.

As many an executive can attest, more real work — of the relationship-building, decision-making kind — gets done after-hours than in the office. And the holiday party is no different. At the very least, this way you’re far less likely to end up like some of the people in this recent MSNBC story, “Holiday parties hold peril for unwary workers.” Enough said.

A few more festive words from expert Mary Crane, who helped us with “Surviving the holiday party” last week. This time, she weighs in with everything else you’ll need to know to make a good showing this season. Enjoy, and have a good weekend!

• Holiday cards. These are a great way to reconnect with friends and contacts, and they can be particularly useful for business. “Start a holiday card list right now and commit to adding names to it throughout next year,” says Crane. “Eventually, this list may become the basis for your own professional network.” Some offices provide cards for you to send to friends and contacts, and even if yours doesn’t, consider investing in some for those relationships you’d like to give special attention. And speaking of special attention, make an effort to hand sign each and every holiday card that you send, personalizing where possible. Even a simple signoff — “Wishing you the happiest holiday,” for example — communicates that you’re personally interested in the recipient, Crane says, and that goes a long way in differentiating your greeting from the standard corporate fare many people are used to receiving. As for those of you who like to send out holiday newsletters and TMI-laced photocards to your entire contact list, get a life. (That’s from me, not Crane, who is far to nice to be that blunt!) No one will think better of you after seeing you kissing little Rover.
• Holiday gifts. For those of us who’ve made friends at work or have strong relationships with a superior or two, a few holiday gifts may be in order. But before you do any buying, Crane recommends checking your company’s policy to make sure that gift-giving is allowed and to find out if there are any limits on gift values. Once you’ve got all that down, put together a list of gift-getters and go shopping. But don’t go overboard. While Crane says an attractive scarf or tie, scented candle, or candy dish can demonstrate your good taste, clothes and cologne will do the opposite. Avoid anything too personal or, worse yet, kitschy. And don’t forget the people in your office’s copy center, mailroom, tech center, and library: “A tray of cookies or a bin of popcorn helps show how much you appreciate the services these people provide in supporting you and your work.”

• Holiday tipping. If you’re new to the real world (or a real-world salary), it’s easy to overlook the importance of tipping the people who’ve made your life livable all year. If you’ve moved into your first condo, Crane says, plan to tip the building supervisor ($20-$200) and the doorman ($10-$100). And with any luck, you’ve also established yourself as a regular diner at several restaurants for business and pleasure. Obviously, this has its benefits — immediate seating, special attention, and the like. So Crane says to “make sure you recognize the special services of the maitre d’, bartender and wait staff with tips ranging between $50 and $100.” They’ll be sure to keep you looking like a star when you arrive with your next important client or date. (And no worries if none of this applies to you yet; there’s plenty of time to get there!)

So I see no one wants to take the plunge commenting on parents, so while you all ponder that, check out our latest bit of Gig-related video. This one’s on holiday parties, growing out of last week’s post on surviving these affairs.

And actually, since writing that piece, my neighbor has clued me in to another important aspect of navigating the holiday party scene: height. Apparently — and being a tallish person who lives in heels, I hadn’t given this much thought before — people who skew a bit shorter can have a hard time picking their way through the forest of colleagues. So if that’s you, anticipate it — if you can, wear heels, and if not, stake out a vantage point on higher ground. (Laugh if you want, but we talk real, practical issues here!)

As for video itself, it’s been a fun and functional addition to what we do here, and I’m glad to hear that some of you are liking it. I must confess that, being the reclusive writer-type at heart (no, really), it was already a little strange to have not just the formal, feature-length, agonized-over-for-weeks words out there, but also all the informal — sometimes flip, angry, unfair or downright dumb — words I’ve been inspired to blog floating around the universe, too. Add television and video to that, and one can begin to feel, as a Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism student put it to me recently, “more like a marketer than a writer.”

Of course, writing’s not worth much if no one ever reads it, so maybe this is the direction things have to go and we just have to get used to it. Thoughts? Will you be less likely to snuggle up to that New Yorker or Harper’s if the superstar septuagenarians aren’t keeping vlogs for your viewing pleasure? Or will you end up respecting the rest of us — those of us who do vlog and the like — a little less?

With December officially here, Monday marks the beginning of that most dangerous of times — holiday party season. For the geniuses among us, this will be the chance to show your best side — that witty, charming, well-dressed person you usually leave at home — and get a little work done at the same time. (What better place to do some low-key relationship-building than the company party?) But for everyone else, the holiday party can be a veritable minefield: What to wear, what if anything to drink, which folks to engage, which to avoid at all costs, and the list goes on. So we enlisted the help of a few experts to answer our questions and ensure that this year’s company party experience is your best — and, more importantly, not your last.

• Dress to impress (your boss, not that hot number at the club). The office party may be a party, but the key word for our purposes is “office.” Treat your holiday party like any other professional event, says Mary Crane, whom you may remember from 60 Minutes‘ Gen Y piece. The lobbyist turned assistant White House chef turned business coach — herself a Yer in spirit — cautions against outfits that are too revealing, obviously bedazzled, or play music. (That last one should be obvious, but Crane points to the gentlemen who insist on wearing those bow ties that play “Jingle Bells.” We’re laughing at you, guys.) If the party is directly after work, Crane recommends wearing the same clothes you wore to the office — lest one appear to be trying too hard — and says business casual is fine for off-site, weekend holiday events. And if formal attire is specified, gentlemen should go with a tux. As for ladies, they “may wear a formal-length or cocktail-length dress. They should, however, avoid any dress that will reveal more cleavage or leg than would normally be revealed at work (forget those thigh-high slits). And ladies, please do not pull ‘a Britney.’ At all times, wear appropriate undergarments.” Sage advice, to say the least.
• Drink like it’s dinner at Grandma’s, not happy hour. Get sloppy at the office party, and you’ll probably regret it on Monday, if not forever. And that’s the kind of infamy you don’t need. But we’ve had this talk before: “How much is too much at happy hour?”
• Do NOT show the love. A few drinks in, and everyone starts looking like your own personal Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie. But resist the urge! As Stephanie Losee and Helaine Olen, the authors of Office Mate: The Employee Handbook for Finding—and Managing—Romance on the Job, have a few thoughts on this one: Don’t use the holiday party to hit on a colleague, to make out with a colleague, or to go home with a colleague. The overarching theme is fairly simple: No romance at the office party. (Even those who’re already openly together should think twice about excess smishling; your coworkers don’t appreciate the gross-out.)
• Mix, mingle, and be interesting! The office party is a chance to talk to all the folks you don’t interact with every day, so take advantage of the opportunity. Crane encourages keeping the conversation light and social, and choosing topics you might conceivably discuss during office hours, such as holiday plans. And while the office party can be a good time to get to know a colleague you particularly respect, or to chat with your managers about what you’re working on, be sure to keep it casual. As the Office Mate authors put it, “Your boss is there to relax with colleagues, not fend off requests for raises or juicy assignments or—heaven forbid—advances from a subordinate who has decided the time is right to reveal a long-simmering crush.”
• Don’t close the place. Everyone agrees on this point. Nothing says lame like being the last one to leave.

And there you have it. We’ll hear more from Mary Crane in the coming weeks — about holiday gift-giving and cards — and in the meantime, check out her comments in yesterday’s New York Times story, “What Do I Do? Depends on What Week It Is.” It’s a fun Gen Y career story about oneweekjob.com specifically and Yers’ fickle career tendencies generally. Have a great weekend!

Since we’re getting ready to go dark for the holiday, thought it might be a good time for a silly story. And this one might not normally be the best candidate — you’ll see why in a moment — except that I already shared it with the guys in charge, and they basically laughed at us Gen Y-types and called us nerds.

Some people, surprising as it may be, see Fortune and think “stodgy.” And I’d have paid to see their faces this issue, as they picked it up —with huge letters proclaiming, “What were they SMOKING?” on the cover — and realized this was not in fact a copy of Vice, but Fortune.

Though the PTBs no doubt went back and forth on whether such a Jon Stewart-esque question would be too flip for the cover of 75-year-old Fortune magazine, they decided to go with it. (Especially because, of course, this wasn’t just a snarky coverline, but sass specifically directed at cover subject and Bear Stearns CEO James Cayne’s alleged Half Baked extracurricular activities, reported in a Wall Street Journal story earlier this month.)

Based on the reaction when we saw it in the office, our bosses’ fellow Boomers agreed with the choice. But it’s the young people that got all stressed out. As a fellow Yer in the Fortune family told me: It’s cool, but I don’t know, it just seems a little “inappropriate.” Of course, that person made the comment somewhat sheepishly, and the minute s/he said it, we both laughed. How funny that, with all the talk about Yers’ irreverence and hipness, we’re actually the stodgy ones. (Can’t you just see the indie movie version: A bunch of us sitting around some neighborhood coffee shop, the ringleader saying, “I’m all for selling magazines, but at what cost?!”)

Guess the experts aren’t joking when they say our values are more like those of the WWII-era Traditionalists than those held by our free-wheeling Boomer parents. Maybe we just need to chill out. Or maybe this attitude is what’ll get us through despite our devil-may-care outlook. Are you often more uptight than your bosses when it comes to judgment calls like this one, or do the “adults” sometimes need to button up a bit?

And while you ponder that turnaround, have an amazing Thanksgiving. See you next week!

Well, we hit a nerve with “Money v. meaningful work,” and there is more still to say. But it’ll have to wait till next week, because I’m writing this from a gate at JFK, heading to India for this year’s Fortune Global Forum.

This week, I found myself rushing around Manhattan in search of a new suit and cocktail dress for the event. And somewhere around the tenth conservative black Hillary-esque pantsuit, it dawned on me that — despite all my bluster about us (Yers) being quirky and bold — here I was driving myself crazy trying to dress myself in legitimacy.

Why all the fuss? Simple, though it took me a while to realize. It’s because this conference is in India. And from the days of my babyhood in Guyana, where almost half the population is of Indian descent, I — like so many others in the Indian diaspora — have felt the overwhelming need to defend and represent and sometimes exalt all things Indian.

I didn’t get to be this way on my own. When we were small, my siblings and I used to joke that when we were bad, we were American, and when we were good, we were Indian. At least to our mom. This wasn’t so much about any bias against the U.S. — after all, she’d chosen to bring us here because it meant something better to her — as it was about an implicit belief that our Indian “culture” offered something deeper: a sense of history and obligation and decorum.

And everyday, it was under attack — from our friends, and McDonald’s (MCD), and Britney Spears (or whoever was hot back then — Debbie Gibson?). Of course, to the four of us, India wasn’t any of that; mostly, it was something we watched every Sunday on “Namaste America.”

And yet, as I attempt to be-suit myself, it’s obvious that Mom did her job better than I realized. In a lot of ways, it’s not unlike what’s being done to India herself now. Not long ago, during the celebrations of India’s 60th birthday a few weeks ago, I chatted with Jehangir Pocha, the editor of Businessworld, an Indian business magazine.

And as we got to talking, I told him how amazing it was to see all the fanfare over this anniversary — the events and speakers and visibility and, to be frank, the Western-ness of it all. Because I remembered the 50th party, and that had been about what India was to Indians, not — as this one seemed to be — about what India meant to everyone else. Ten years ago, though, India hadn’t yet been hailed by everyone and his brother as the next big thing, and one was as likely to see a story about Mother Teresa battling poverty in India’s slums as one about a gazillionaire Indian changing the face of e-something.

Not so much the case anymore. In some ways, this shift is inevitable. As I said to Pocha, it’s much more important to a 16-year-old to demonstrate his adulthood than it is for a 60-year-old. And with the relatively recent warp-speed development that has transformed a country whose image was for too long all poverty and Bollywood, India has become that 16-year-old. So it makes sense that she wants to put on a suit, metaphorically speaking. (Let’s be honest, for a long time, our most visible representatives were Apu and Ms. Universe).

But there is such a thing as being too packaged. And when I listen to conversations about India that are all glow and no light — as in, shed on the myriad other issues that face a country still facing rampant illiteracy, poverty and discrimination — I can’t help but be concerned. It’s wonderful to represent ourselves well, but it’s also important to remember that representing oneself well is not synonymous with representing oneself as “good.”

We represent ourselves well when we support great art — art that shows every Indian’s reality, good or not-so-good — and when we speak out about the disparities that persist in our communities, whether they’re in India, the U.S., the U.K., or the Caribbean. And while I’m all for celebrating milestones, I hope that excitement doesn’t keep us from recognizing how far we have to go.

Or maybe I’m just getting old, and these things just bother me more now than when I was small and didn’t even really understand concepts so abstract as race and ethnicity. I can’t say for sure, and maybe I’ll feel differently once I’m back in the motherland (or not running on 10 minutes worth of sleep). I’ll let you know, and in the meantime, tell us what you think…

It’s been one of those weeks where I’m doing so much at any given moment that it doesn’t seem like anything’s getting done at all. Not exactly the best psychological environment for writing, if you know what I mean. So much so that after stressing for days over how to end a story I’ve been working on, I ended up getting it done in about half an hour at 4 a.m., with some random late-night TV turned down low in the background and my feet up on the coffee table.

That — and this “Career Couch” column from The New York Times last weekend — got me to thinking about spaces. When I was struggling with the aforementioned piece, I kept trying to articulate it to my long-suffering friends by saying I wasn’t in the right “head-space.” In retrospect, it’s probably that I hadn’t found the right work space. And though I know the prevailing wisdom is that one should choose a space to work and stick to it, I’m finding that as circumstances change — the type of story, the time of year, my own mood — I need a corresponding change of scenery to work. Sometimes, it’s nice to be at the window, looking out a serene city scene. Other times, it just makes me want to be outside (or depending on how things are going, jump out the window). And with this most recent piece, I think I just needed to be removed from civilization. (Hence, the bad television.)

What does all that mean for the time we spend at our desks, in our actual offices or cubicles? If the Career Couch question is any indication, it means that we need to feel at home in our offices. (Aren’t I just so clever? ;o) The column asks, “Can you decorate your workspace any way you want?” The answer, of course, is no. But there’s much more to it than that. While it’s basically common sense that you don’t want Jenna Jameson posters or banners from your last anarchists’ meeting on your wall — at least if you want to stay employed or, say, get promoted — the way you personalize your work space says something about you to your coworkers, and more importantly, helps you feel good about being there. Which is especially important these days, as the lines between the personal and professional become increasingly blurred. So what does your office decor say about you? I’ll think about it and answer myself on Monday. And in the meantime, tell us how you get into the right “space” (head, desk, or otherwise) for work…

As much as I’d hoped to avoid it, I’d be remiss if I didn’t direct our attention to this weekend’s New York Times article, “(-: Just Between You and Me “, about emoticons in the workplace. “There are many ways to console someone when a multimillion-dollar business deal falls through,” the story opens. “Firing off a ‘tough break’ e-mail message punctuated by a frown-face emoticon is not one of them.”

Agreed. But just as the vast majority of parents aren’t calling their children’s bosses to negotiate salaries, I’d venture to say that most of us aren’t using sad faces to ease the pain of deal disasters like these — at least not with our clients or business partners.

But should a friend or colleague go through a rough patch, it’s certainly not beneath me to send a smiley e-mail — e.g. “Nothing a gimlet couldn’t fix ;o).” And those of you who’ve read The Gig once or twice have probably noticed that I don’t hesitate to wink at you either. But that makes sense; most snarky people use visual cues like smiling to keep from actually offending people, and given the chance to translate that into e-mail and IM, why wouldn’t you? Especially considering the damage just one misinterpreted sentence in an e-mail can do, in the office and elsewhere, a point the Times story makes, too.

Like everything, there’s a time and place. And there’s a certain e-mail trust that must be established before anyone starts throwing smileys around. But if your boss signs off with a winky face — as mine, Fortune Managing Editor Andy Serwer, sometimes does — it’d be silly for you to respond with, “Dear Mr. Serwer,” and, “Sincerely yours,” don’t you think?

But smileys, like so many other signs of the Gen Y casualness apocalypse, do get under some people’s skin. Some of you might remember that the cover for our Gen Y story read “‘Manage’ Us? Puh-leeze…” with the subhead, “Today’s twentysomethings have their own rules. You just don’t understand them ” Truth be told, that particular smiley was my fault. Andy showed me the cover and said he liked the subhead, but that some people thought it might be too harsh. And I, musing like your standard ineloquent Gen Yer, said, “Well, what we’re really trying to say is, ‘You just don’t understand them, smiley face,’ you know?” Visionary that he is, Andy jumped up and shouted, “Yes!” I, as usual, was lost, and Fortune “history” was made.

But don’t ask me how many letters we got predicting the downfall of American business and the death of culture itself because Fortune had a smiley face on its cover. We’ve had dogs, Dilbert, even post-prison Martha Stewart on our cover and it’s basically all good, but put a smiley in there and all hell breaks loose. Well, I’m not sorry; it’s a new world, people, and it has smileys in it! (And there, folks, is a great example of an entire paragraph that, sans smiley, might be more likely to get me fired than communicate the good-natured ribbing I intended. Good thing I’m not afraid of emoticons ;o). You?

A true story from my travels this week that I thought you might appreciate. And since I’ll be on yet another flight to somewhere tomorrow, when I should be writing our Friday featurette, this will have to serve as July’s “Conversations.” (For the uninitiated, these are our retellings of some good — or in today’s case, instructively bad — chats.) So I’ll see you Monday, and in the meantime, hope you enjoy it, let us know what you think, and have an excellent weekend!

—–

There usually isn’t much talking on early-morning flights out of New York City. We unlucky passengers have all had to rise with the sun, endure the indignities of the security line, and suffer Starbucks for breakfast. And the only thing that bonds us more than these inconveniences by the time we’re all buckled and blanketed (if you can find one) is our shared desire for sweet sound-sleeping/paper-reading/meeting-planning silence.

So imagine our collective surprise on a 7 a.m. flight from New York to Virginia this week — I’ll withhold further detail for the safety of the reckless loudtalker I’m about to embarrass — when a perfectly normal-looking, well-dressed, twentysomething man of corporate mien began chatting with his coworker in a voice only an arena crowd could love.

Before you chalk it up to crankiness, let me elaborate. By “chatting,” I mean he shouted the entire two-and-a-half hour flight, and she — evidently desensitized to this racket — simply nodded and interjected a question now and then. The dozen or so people on the small plane shot him periodic glares, sighed audibly in his direction, and fussily draped all manner of paper and pashmina over their faces. But he didn’t notice, and we settled down. After all, we’ve all been the unhappy neighbors of a Chatty Cathy (or…Chad) with no inside voice. They’re almost always just nervous about flying or unfamiliar with veteran traveler etiquette. But this time, the real action was just getting started.

It wasn’t until I heard the following that I really took notice: “Their English may be f—–d, but I’ll tell you, that code is always exactly what I want. So what if their accent is crazy?” Asians and South Asians, it turned out, were a source of good work and constant comedy for our self-identified star software developer. (Who I should mention was himself brown.) I quickly scanned the nearby seats for enraged passengers, as my position directly behind the superstar put me squarely in the danger zone. Everyone just stared at him, transfixed.

Meanwhile, Captain Oblivious continued his tirade. And I learned all sorts of interesting facts, including details about ongoing high-level negotiations at his firm, the visa status of his visiting colleagues, and the salaries of just about everyone he knew. We also heard about his own efforts to secure work-abroad papers and circumnavigate pesky new regulations, as well as his fascinating views on success: I could be making $500 an hour, he yelled, but then I’d be responsible for s–t. The Chinese also took a few more hits, as did my fellow Subcontinent folk.

By the time it was over, having begun reading Alan Moore’s Watchmen at the gate just that morning, I was seriously contemplating some vigilante violence. (Could I, for instance, catapult him into thin air with a good push through the window?) To say nothing of the fact that, with my best efforts to sleep thwarted, I felt — and no doubt looked — like something out of Swamp Thing. And Mr. TMI? The lights went on, he stood up, and without a hint of sarcasm, flashed us all a lovely, innocent smile. If I ever see him again, it’s going to take all my good upbringing not to kick him in the shins.

The moral of the story: We can hear you. And some of us work for major media outlets…

Got any “good” biz travel horror stories?