It seems so obvious to write about President Barack Obama right now, whether you’re a fan or not, that I think I’ve been avoiding doing it. I was in Washington, D.C., on Inauguration Day. I saw the camaraderie of the crowds. I watched in amusement as CVS clerks and CPK waiters tried their best to cope. I hummed along as Wyclef Jean sang a sweet but less than Grammy-worthy freestyle presidential tribute. I applauded the honesty of the Inaugural address, I held my breath as the new President got out of the car, and I thanked goodness that no one had gone tiger, in the words of the immortal Chris Rock, in this capitol circus. And as the first blush of love faded — confirmation hearings will do that to any relationship — and the real work of rebuilding began, I hoped that the young people who’d been so energized by “Yes We Can” wouldn’t be enervated by “Yes We Did That Already, And Now We Have To Do All The Other Way Tougher Stuff For Which There Will Be No Uplifting Slogans.”

Then Superbowl Sunday came around, and President Obama — chatting with Matt Lauer and smiling that easy smile of his — put my fears to rest. As my friend put it, “It’s kind of amazing to have a President who can say ’shoutout’ credibly.” Don’t get me wrong: His vetting game is clearly far from airtight, and I, unlike him, have never been a huge fan of Steeler football. But what stood out about the President that day — and more recently, when he admitted he “screwed up” with the Tom Daschle nomination, and even when he called Wall Street bonuses “shameful” last week — is that he can and will talk to us, about subjects heavy and light, and in a voice we can both relate to and respect. (After all, his shoutout wasn’t to his boys back home; it was to the troops.) It may be calculated — and it probably is — but I for one appreciate a little strategic thinking in my politicians. And if they use it to keep me in the loop, all the better.

What may be even more striking, though, is Obama’s seeming desire to behave both like what I imagine a President ought to be and like the nice, cool, more or less sincere young man about campus I’m always hoping the President was at some long lost time in his life. It’s no small feat to be both youthful and presidential, and it’s even harder when you’re admitting mistakes and promising fixes. But what it communicates, whether the President means to or not, is that — for the generation of young people who will call Obama a role model — you really can do it your way. Yes, we all have to be accountable and work hard, for instance. But who’s going to have to work harder or be more accountable than Obama will? And if he can still tell jokes and enjoy a good game while he’s doing it, well, maybe we can, too.

All of this — the dialogue, the insight, even the inspiration of a grown-up guy with just about the hardest job around laughing like he means it — fosters an inclusiveness that is ultimately more empowering for young people at this moment than “Yes We Can” could ever be. Because now we are part of a conversation that’s happening not on the fringes, but in the most hallowed halls of power. And we’re talking to a man who, whatever you think of his politics, seems willing to listen.

Ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you, I’ve always been a nerd. As a child, I read classical myths before bedtime, played viola in the orchestra, and watched more G.I. Joe than could rightly be considered healthy. (Well, that last bit might have been more abnormal than nerdy, but you get the idea.)

And yet–contrary to the tales of social maladjustment and woe that those parents of nigh-seven-year-old kindergartners in our last post might fear–I never once felt bad about it. In fact, it never really entered into my thinking at all. Every one of my friends had a quirk or two, and not because we were some kind of B-movie-esque nerd herd, ostracized from the rest of acceptable classroom society. From the jocks, to the brains, to–yes–the “musicians,” we were for the most part nerdy and cool. And in some cases, even cool because we were nerdy.

Walking to the San Diego Convention Center for Comic-Con 2008 this past weekend, I was reminded of this educational idyll as a departing teenage Con patron explained just that to his apparently confused mom over the phone: “It’s nerdy and cool, you know?” Which was about when the first Batman strolled past me in the crowd, recalling another mob scene of recent memory: The mile-long line I waited in to see a 12:01 a.m. opening night show of Dark Knight a few weeks ago. That, too might have been considered Loserville not long ago, but judging from the box office results for those midnight showings alone (never mind all the pretty girls in line…), the times they are a-changing.

And there’s evidence of it everywhere. Dark Knight’s record-annihilating popularity, clearly. The 150,000 capacity crowd at this year’s Con, which flooded the floor from the usually chill preview night on Wednesday straight through the convention’s close on Sunday. And among the horde, not just obsessed fans, respectable-looking families and giddy comics professionals, but the likes of–no, really–Sam Jackson, Ludacris and Eva Mendes, eager to score a Con boost for upcoming projects.

Then there’s the current Entertainment Weekly cover on Comic-Con and 2009’s Watchmen, based on the celebrated Alan Moore graphic novel of the same name. Fans were treated to special teaser footage at the convention, which EW last year called “one of the most critical industry events on the calendar, as important to Hollywood as any festival in France or Utah.”

Is this mainstreaming of costumed culture a little strange? No doubt. But it’s a better, smarter and all around more exciting world when that’s not only allowed, but appreciated, in all its nerdy and cool glory. And while comics are hardly new, and their entertainment industry ascendancy dates back decades, I especially love the way that they’ve again become true cultural capital for us Yers, minus many of the labels that often came with even casual fandom in the past. We’ve grown up in–and helped grow–what was in recent years a quirky subculture into something we can all support, share, and enjoy without judgment or separation, whether we’re into the whole skin-tight-superhero-outfit-and-plastic-weapon thing or not. (A tad “Kumbaya”? Totally. But I’m feeling warm and fuzzy and drunk with jet lag, and I’m not sorry.)

It’s a cultural shift that a friend first articulated to me after reading David Brooks’ New York Times column, “The Alpha Geeks,” earlier this year. (Thank you, Paul!) Brooks makes a distinction between nerds and “geeks” that I may or may not agree with, but his basic premise–of geek primacy, with the likes of Bill Gates, Tina Fey and even Barack Obama as examples–is hardly debatable.

The challenge, of course, is how to keep all this authentic–something that’s even more important to many Yers than action movies or acceptance. Because there’s a point at which, with more studio executives than comic-book publishers in attendance, events like Comic-Con start to feel like still more icky, obvious marketing. And it’s only a hop, skip and a jump from there to an industry that’s (once again) boring and broke. But it’s a while yet to that. And I for one have the utmost faith in Hollywood.

Right!

But while it’s still charming–and believe me, there’s something about standing in that press of people, surrounded by art and artists and every creature in between, that just makes you giggle–thought you might like a taste…

Icons of my youth. If you don't know, find out.

A Planet of the Apes salute, at the request of Little Spidey and dad.

A very tall, very coordinated (and kind of trippy) Plastic Man.

O brave new world: A perfectly nice normal person, a perfectly nice not-so-normal person, a perfectly *awesome* Lego "person," and the happiest costumed kids ever.

My kind of crowd: Hellboy, Greedy Smurf, Little Bo Peep (we think), and a ton of fans. Best ever.

Ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you, I’ve always been a nerd. As a child, I read classical myths before bedtime, played viola in the orchestra, and watched more G.I. Joe than could rightly be considered healthy. (Well, that last bit might have been more abnormal than nerdy, but you get the idea.)

And yet–contrary to the tales of social maladjustment and woe that those parents of nigh-seven-year-old kindergartners in our last post might fear–I never once felt bad about it. In fact, it never really entered into my thinking at all. Every one of my friends had a quirk or two, and not because we were some kind of B-movie-esque nerd herd, ostracized from the rest of acceptable classroom society. From the jocks, to the brains, to–yes–the “musicians,” we were for the most part nerdy and cool. And in some cases, even cool because we were nerdy.

Walking to the San Diego Convention Center for Comic-Con 2008 this past weekend, I was reminded of this educational idyll as a departing teenage Con patron explained just that to his apparently confused mom over the phone: “It’s nerdy and cool, you know?” Which was about when the first Batman strolled past me in the crowd, recalling another mob scene of recent memory: The mile-long line I waited in to see a 12:01 a.m. opening night show of Dark Knight a few weeks ago. That, too might have been considered Loserville not long ago, but judging from the box office results for those midnight showings alone (never mind all the pretty girls in line…), the times they are a-changing.

And there’s evidence of it everywhere. Dark Knight’s record-annihilating popularity, clearly. The 150,000 capacity crowd at this year’s Con, which flooded the floor from the usually chill preview night on Wednesday straight through the convention’s close on Sunday. And among the horde, not just obsessed fans, respectable-looking families and giddy comics professionals, but the likes of–no, really–Sam Jackson, Ludacris and Eva Mendes, eager to score a Con boost for upcoming projects.

Then there’s the current Entertainment Weekly cover on Comic-Con and 2009’s Watchmen, based on the celebrated Alan Moore graphic novel of the same name. Fans were treated to special teaser footage at the convention, which EW last year called “one of the most critical industry events on the calendar, as important to Hollywood as any festival in France or Utah.”

Is this mainstreaming of costumed culture a little strange? No doubt. But it’s a better, smarter and all around more exciting world when that’s not only allowed, but appreciated, in all its nerdy and cool glory. And while comics are hardly new, and their entertainment industry ascendancy dates back decades, I especially love the way that they’ve again become true cultural capital for us Yers, minus many of the labels that often came with even casual fandom in the past. We’ve grown up in–and helped grow–what was in recent years a quirky subculture into something we can all support, share, and enjoy without judgment or separation, whether we’re into the whole skin-tight-superhero-outfit-and-plastic-weapon thing or not. (A tad “Kumbaya”? Totally. But I’m feeling warm and fuzzy and drunk with jet lag, and I’m not sorry.)

It’s a cultural shift that a friend first articulated to me after reading David Brooks’ New York Times column, “The Alpha Geeks,” earlier this year. (Thank you, Paul!) Brooks makes a distinction between nerds and “geeks” that I may or may not agree with, but his basic premise–of geek primacy, with the likes of Bill Gates, Tina Fey and even Barack Obama as examples–is hardly debatable.

The challenge, of course, is how to keep all this authentic–something that’s even more important to many Yers than action movies or acceptance. Because there’s a point at which, with more studio executives than comic-book publishers in attendance, events like Comic-Con start to feel like still more icky, obvious marketing. And it’s only a hop, skip and a jump from there to an industry that’s (once again) boring and broke. But it’s a while yet to that. And I for one have the utmost faith in Hollywood.

Right!

But while it’s still charming–and believe me, there’s something about standing in that press of people, surrounded by art and artists and every creature in between, that just makes you giggle–thought you might like a taste…

Icons of my youth. If you don't know, find out.

A Planet of the Apes salute, at the request of Little Spidey and dad.

A very tall, very coordinated (and kind of trippy) Plastic Man.

O brave new world: A perfectly nice normal person, a perfectly nice not-so-normal person, a perfectly *awesome* Lego "person," and the happiest costumed kids ever.

My kind of crowd: Hellboy, Greedy Smurf, Little Bo Peep (we think), and a ton of fans. Best ever.

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…

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…

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…