The Politics of CC

I casually glanced at the sent column of the email I had just received.

My head rocked backwards. I squinted and checked again to make sure that I saw what I saw.

The sender/colleague had a gift in wrecking havoc through disseminating conspiracy theories at the office. Everything he touched was poisoned by whispered rumors and wild intepretations of management intentions. Remember the contact list fiasco? That was completely him.

Well, he also firmly believed in the "political correctness" of the order in which you list the email recipients. He always made sure to arrange recipients in hierarchical order - not necessarily according to the org chart, but according to his perceived level of importance/ power within the company. Of course, he also painstakingly analyzed other people's sent column order and then deduced their allegiances.

And today, I finally knew where I stood in his books. He had bumped me up three spaces from my usual spot, ahead of key people who were technically higher than me on the org chart.

I don't know what bothers me more: The fact that I know there is a meddlesome deliberateness behind it or that I noticed and care enough to blog about it.

Either way, I guess I'm moving up in the world.

Pinterest Illusions

 

Welcome to Pinterest. You see something you like on the internet and you pin it to an online clipboard that you can share with others. So simple huh?

Because of that, I've now become an image hoarder. DIY paper mache lamp shades that seem like a fire hazard? Flower hair clips made from retired nylon stockings (hopefully washed)? Vintage-inspired photo frames where the photos are just there to emphasize the frames? All pinned. I will never make any of these, because, by virtue of pinning them to my clipboard, I feel like I've actually made them already.

In some ways, pinterest is also a glimpse into another person's relationship status. Even though I live half a world away, I know when girl A is starting to get serious about the boy she is dating. I see the rings, the bouquets, the wedding decor  . . . and I wonder if I should speak up about her choice of bridesmaid dresses. Pretty soon, Miss Manners will need to start a column dictating the rules of online faux pas. She can use me as an example.

A former boyfriend also pins. His "For her" board correlates with nothing in my current or future closet. Aha. I knew that when he complimented my outfits as "interesting," it probably wasn't the good kind. But it also made me sad when he unceremoniously deleted our collaborative board. It was like putting down a stray cat that we both fed from time to time. That's why I will never have pets.

Pretty soon the BYU career center will write a blog post about crafting the perfect pinterest image for prospective employers. They'll encourage images like professional work suits, favorite take out food for the daily OT, and cookies to bring to the company Christmas party.

Umm. I better tone down my long socks fetish and delete my "Vacations to take this year" board.

What are you pinning?

Il Divo

Il Divo came to town and I went to watch their concert on a whim.

After I became hopelessly lost on my way to the concert, I hopped onto a tuk tuk, a box seat attached to the back of a motorcycle. The driver decided to forget about sending me to the designated taxi stand as I had asked, but tried to help out by directly hailing a cab for me. He would follow an empty taxi, speed up as fast as the tired, smoky engine would allow till we're in front of the taxi, and then make a screechy swerve against the grain of traffic to physically block the taxi so I could tell the taxi driver my address. After three or four failed attempts (and near death experiences), I finally told him to just take me to the taxi stand. Gosh. It never feels good to reject a Good Samaritan.

I made it right when Il Divo walked on stage.

Except, you could hardly see the guys' faces when they were singing. They must have brought in interns to do the lighting because they shone the light on whoever was not singing. It became a joke between the singers and the audience, with David waving his arms to catch the light guy's attention while he belted out his lines. The light stayed on Carlos the most though and the ladies absolutely went wild when he said "Hello, piao liang (beautiful)." Even I swooned. Just a little.

A lady sitting two rows behind me kept up a deep, throaty sing along routine. I finally turned around to give her a (mild!) evil eye. Instantly, I paused and retreated. "She" was actually a little boy, with thick framed glasses that rested on his round cheeks, gesticulating wildly as if he was singing alone in the middle of his room. His mom looked bored. But his eyes were shut, his imagination was untethered, and his chubby fists tightened as his voice sprang out of him, uninhibited.

Absolutely inspiring.

Would you be crazy enough to fly to another city for one night just to watch a concert? Well, that's what happened. 2 am nights. Those are always the best.

Regresa a mi.

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