The Not-So-Secret Diary of a Bad Luck Girl

Last night in class we talked about our projects, or at least some of us did. Not me, thank goodness, because I realized that I still have a long way to go.

Sometimes I feel like I have no idea what’s going on in that class. I swear some of my classmates have secret classes with the professor, because they go back and forth about this philosopher or that theory like it’s common knowledge.

At least I’m not the only one who feels this way. Before class started, one woman commented that she totally did the assignment wrong. I said I thought I did my wrong too, and that I really wasn’t sure what he was asking for, and she said that’s how he is in the other class she’s taking with him.

“Every assignment is like that,” she said. “No one knows what he’s asking for.”

Luckily his expectations match his assignments – he doesn’t expect concrete answers or results. He’s more interested in the process of how we’re getting to whatever it is we’re getting to. The problem is what if I don’t even know what that getting to is?

Last night a few people talked about their projects, and he helped them work them boil down their broader ideas to something more specific. What I gathered is that the “problem” we’re exploring in our projects should be very specific and solveable. Mine was way too general – “internal communication in a corporation is often unclear, unemotional, and exclusive.” How do you solve that?

My wish is that people stop talking and writing in corp speak all together, and also that while I understand that in a publicly held company, employees can’t know certain information before investors, it would be nice to have some sort of acknowledgement in plain terms, even after the fact. “You may have seen on Yahoo! Finance that we laid off x number of employees.”

But that will never happen. It would involve a change in culture, which is virtually impossible in such a large organization.

So I started to think smaller and more realistically. There is definitely a “language barrier” depending on function – managers versus secretaries for instance, or those new to the company versus those who have been here for a while. What’s something simple that would help them overcome this barrier?

Our company already has a “wikipedia,” but it’s quite broad, and I’m not sure how much it’s utilized. It would be interesting to see:

• If there is the language barrier I’m assuming there is
• If secretaries who want to move up think that this barrier prevents them from doing so
• What courses and training are currently available for admins, and what gaps there are, if any
• Would something like a dictionary of corporate language terms be helpful to them, or to anyone new to the company
• How much the existing wikipedia is being used, and any feedback on it

This would connect back to library science because it’s the library services folks who created and own the wikipedia. I could survey them not only about that but their thoughts on communication as well.

Ideally I’d love to “English” translations of company specific-jargon. For instance, blahblahblah actually means “lay-offs.” The entry for that term very diplomatically points to internal memos. Or to have a suggested use: “Utilize: to use. Better word: use.” I guess the translation on the more political words could be “stealth” through tags and such.

So it seems my problem isn’t just that corporate communication is unclear, but that the language barrier can prevent those not in the club from joining the club. I know at least one former secretary who had such trouble moving up, even with an MBA, and I think it’s because she could not talk the talk. Not that a dictionary will make you fluent, but it may at least give you more of an in.

Also, the dictionary may help people to think more critically about language. Why use long made-up words when shorter ones will do?

In addition to that secretary, I know two others who transitioned from admin to manager. There must be more. Oh, I just remembered one, but she became such an incredible bitch after she got promoted, I don’t even want to talk to her.

Tonight we have *another* class. The author of one of the books we read is coming in to speak, and Friday was the only day he could do it. The professor said we’ll cancel an upcoming class in place of tonight’s, which is cool, but I dread the idea of having more school already. I’m pooped.

Do any of you remember this show? It was my favorite when I was a kid, even more so than Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. There were so many things I loved about it – the animation, the arts and crafts that Tony Hart made (for some reason I relish the sound of scissors cutting paper), and most of all the music. The jazzy, jaunty music, all horns and what sounds like an xylophone.

For some reason the show was always hard to find. Of course I didn’t know it was from the BBC, and so would flip hopefully through the channels trying to find it. Once by chance my mother found it for me, but it was a channel with horrible reception, and yet I sat through it, hoping to catch a glimpse of the words “Vision On” turning into that squiggly frog thing, and whatever great project Tony Hart was whipping up out of poster board and tape.

As an adult I never heard anything about the show. Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers were still on; they were still talked about. Sometimes I’d ask people, randomly, “Do you guys remember a show with xylophone music and a squiggly frog?” and they’d just look at me like I was nuts. It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember the full name, just “vision” something. I began to think I had made the whole thing up.

Then recently, MB was playing Mickey Baker’s take on the Third Man theme, and for some reason that reminded me of Vision On. I turned to the Internet and found it lickety split.

And man, what a weird show! I swear, the best kids’ shows seem like they’re made by people on drugs. And how ‘70s! That lady’s bellbottoms are crazy. And Tony Hart kinda looks like Benny Hill!

Check out Part 2 for the talking bubbles, perhaps my favorite part of the whole freakshow.

Waking up after even 7 hours of sleep is tough after getting 10-12 hours a sleep a night for three nights. Hopefully this green tea and chocolate will help.

It was a low-key weekend. We don’t make a big deal of Valentine’s Day – MB cooked, which he probably would have done anyway. Trout and broccolini, our new favorite vegetable. Aside from running errands during the day, we were both caught up with schoolwork for most of the weekend. And I still had class Sunday and Monday as well. I keep thinking I have class tonight, but I don’t! Yay! Maybe it’s time to hit Sephora and restock on beauty supplies.

Two celebrity sightings: Blythe Danner, off of 8th Street, and the dude from Fringe. Actually, I didn’t see the Fringe guy, only MB did, and he didn’t see Blythe Danner, not that he’d recognize her. So one and a half celeb sightings.

Work hasn’t been so busy this week so I did a bunch of work for my corp speak project.

I found articles on corporate culture and corp speak itself, but also a George Orwell essay from 1946, “Politics and the English Language.” His points are surprisingly relevant to my topic:

[With bad English] the concrete melts into the abstract. . .prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated henhouse.

and,

The keynote is the elimination of simple verbs. . . .a verb becomes a phrase, made up of a noun or adjective tacked on to some general-purpose verb. . .

As in “Let’s set up a meeting to kick-start that project.” No, it’s JUST START. And,

In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible. Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan, can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed arms of the political parties. Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness.

and finally,

The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms. . .

I think my hypothesis is going to be something like the further away a company’s culture is from its objectives – i.e., company: “We’re all about helping people!” real objective: $$$ – the worse the corp speak is, specifically the worse and more insincere the internal corp speak is.

For example, a company may be required to report reduction in headcount (aka firing people) to certain government bodies, but in the meantime veils that information from its own employees. For months the employees know it’s coming, reading between the lines of numerous memos – transformation, reorganization, a leaner, more nimble organization, reallocating resources - but they receive no concrete information. They only find out when they read the number on the company’s Yahoo! finance page.

Yeah.

So that’s my theory with evidence from literature, internal memos, timing of memos versus press releases and other publicly available information. But how do I put that into practice? Maybe survey different folks, rating the clarity and sincerity of various internal and external communcations? Not sure yet.

In other news, I signed up on Twitter (under my real name). Yes, resistance is futile.

I blame school.

Had a more active weekend than the last. Friday night I had dinner with YP and some of our former co-workers. We went to Tillman’s, which was really nice – beautiful atmosphere, nice music, yummy food and drinks. It was freezing that night so I had a hot toddy, and for dinner I had the chicken sandwich. Yum!

It was fun catching up with the gals. I got some gossip about my old boss. I think I’ve written that he was demoted (’bout time), and somehow he found himself a new position on a different team. Apparently he’s traveling to London soon, and is being extremely neurotic about it. Poor LG, who was his secretary and is now just helping him out till he gets a new one, has suffered the brunt of it.

He’s afraid to fly and so changed his flight a couple of times (once because he thought the plane was too old), and keeps asking LG questions like, “How do I get to my hotel from the airport? What if I only have American money?” Dude, you’re going to LONDON, not the Amazon rainforest. And it’s not like he hasn’t traveled before.

Also, I heard some dirt about another former co-worker, who was a secretary at the same time I was and interested in moving up the way I did – well, she was interested in moving up, but much more passively. The way I did it assess what needed to be done that nobody wanted to do, and just go ahead and take over those “orphaned” projects, which were usually lower profile and less “sexy” anyway, but I didn’t care. She just kept asking managers for work, and they would end up giving her the work I was already doing (and which I had cleared with my boss, who was the head of the whole group). There was a lot of stepping on toes.

I got promoted before she did, but she never asked me for advice. She’d go to her own managers, which was fine, but they didn’t know anything about how to make that jump from secretar to manager. Or she’d go to WG, who was the budget coordinator and my pal, and who kept saying, “Why don’t you talk to Anna?” since I was on the exact career trajectory that she wanted to be on. But she never did.

She just couldn’t get promoted, despite having her MBA. So she left for a managerial position at another company. I was genuinely happy for her. But now I’ve heard that she’s unhappy and has contacted WG about positions here.

Part of me feels bad for her, but part of me is pointing and saying, “Ha ha!” The Marvin part of me apparently.

I got back pretty early, around 9. Later MB and I saw a midnight movie, the New York premiere of Chocolate. It was really good! I mean, the plot was sorta dumb, but it was awesome to see a woman kick ass repeatedly. As usual, the hipster audience was annoying, laughing at unfunny parts.

Saturday we kept missing things. We were all set to go to ComicCon, but the tickets were sold out! They had been available the night before. Should have gotten them online. Then that night we were all set to see Coraline, but when we got to the theater, it was sold out. MB didn’t feel like seeing anything else so we took advantage of the nice night and walked home.

Sunday was all about school. Last week I was really good and finished all my homework for Sunday by Friday so I could do my reading for Monday over the weekend. In class on Sunday, we went over our library profiles. I picked my company’s digital library (there is no physical one here in New York, only at another site), and he didn’t get that. He said, “You want to do this?” I don’t really care what library I do, but I’m annoyed that I put in all that work that I now have to do over.

He didn’t come out and say, “Don’t do a digital library,” but I think that’s his feeling, though there are just as many collection management issues with online resources. So I guess I’ll switch to something else.

Tonight’s class should be pretty mellow. The management reading feels familiar so far. I guess I’ve been living management for the past several years. But it’s helpful to see it written in formal terms, and how it can be applied to libraries.

Having three classes is tough! With two I could totally slack and go for days without doing any work. Now I’m doing homework basically every day. But it’ll be over in a few months.

The weekend was both lazy and productive.

Both Friday and Saturday MB and I had plans to see Taken, that new Liam Neeson movie, but we were overcome with laziness and ended up staying in and watching stuff on Hulu. Easy to do when it’s freezing outside.

Saturday I managed to get up before 9 to do some homework and laundry, and then just spent the afternoon hanging out till we went out for a late lunch around 3 at Le French Diner. Risotto with vegetables and cheese, yum! Also very filling. I can never eat more than half.

Sunday I got up relatively early again. Last minute homework before class at 1. That day’s session was more informative than the others have been, but the professor still let us out way early.

Which I didn’t mind because it was gorgeous out! Like spring. During class MB had texted me that he was in Washington Square Park so I met up with him there. He had his ukelele. Of course people look as he’s playing, but not as much as you’d think. The park was full of musicians busking or just noodling. One old dude took a picture of MB – and by association, me – without even asking. I mean, I do too, but at least I try to hide it.

I couldn’t get enough of the news this weekend, for some reason. Maybe my Thursday class is making me hyper aware.

Those octuplets. People say the story started out “heart-warming” (and I guess “heart-warming” now means “woman who breeds like dog”). Of course you imagine some couple who has tried for years to have kids, and after fertility treatments, finally has eight little miracles!

But it turns out that the woman is only 33, and she ALREADY HAS SIX KIDS. What the – ? Also, she’s not married, and lives with her parents. What doctor thought it was okay to implant EIGHT embryos into a young, healthy single woman with six kids?

And when the father says he’s thinking about returning to his native Iraq, you know things have got to be bad.

Peanut recall. I had stuff in my cabinet on that list! The Crunchy Peanut Butter Clif Bars. Wah, in the garbage.

Michael Phelps caught smoking a giant bong. Not that I have anything against weed but Michael, you must have a nice house – do it in private! Jeez. Despite all his achievements, he seems like such a douchebag.

And on that note, what’s the female equivalent of a douchebag? I think we all know about that site, Hot Chicks with Douchebags, but the problem I have with that is that a lot of those “hot chicks” seem like skanks to me.

So why not “skank” as the female equivalent of douchebag? Cuz I think that’s just a subset. There’s also that whole Sex and the City wannabe crowd, many of whom we saw at Penn Station one night when we came back from my parents. Girls in too high shoes, too short dresses, skinny jeans, four in a row, walking arm in arm. “Oh my God, we’re just like SATC!”

Douchettes maybe? I’ll have to think about that.