A new generation of employees

What, with 500 billion blogs being published every 10 seconds (it's a fact - don't cross me), there are a lot of us out there who feel the need to divulge our inner dialogue, our innerlogue if you will (or mayhaps "dialinner"?). I wonder just how that affects our careers (or our attempts at them).

The "bosses" of today didn't have these forums when they were starting out. They were hired based on first, second and maybe third impressions. Or they had a good connection. But what would someone looking to hire me say if they read all about me on this blog? This topic has been covered broadly, I know, but today I got to thinking about how it is going to change things when WE become the "bosses," the ones who choose the ones who'll follow. Not that many adults in older generations don't, but we, because we were literally raised on this wave of new web technology, have know-how that will only continue to burst through generations.

I think it will get to a point where if we punch in a possible hire's name in our favorite search engine, and we don't get a list of things to click on, we'll be less likely to follow up. Even if it's a locked Facebook profile, a private blog, something we can't even learn anything from -- if they're not somehow linked to technology, we might not want them. This, of course, is assumptive and brash. But I think even at this point I'm so used to being able to "stalk" just about anyone online that I'm a little disappointed when I can't find anything. Like a "come on - get with it!" kind of attitude. But then that's entirely selfish, too.

On a completely different subject, there was salami in my dreams last night and I was eating it. That alone doesn't warrant me typing it, but what does is that I am now smelling salami in the apartment, even though we've got none. Hmmm, Waking Life? ...

Okay, but now that I've mentioned smelling salami, I've got a story to tell. Freshman year in the dorms, the people below (probably above and all around as well) used to smoke a lot of pot (hi, it's Boulder), and often it would come through the vent in our room and stink it up. Well this happened one day while I was hanging out with Macky in her room next door, and her roommate came in. We'll call her Tara for protection's sake. The conversation went as follows:
{Enter Tara}
Me and Macky (M&M):Hey Tara.
Tara: Hi! {pauses} Ummm ... are you guys cooking? ...
M&M: {exchange looks of curiosity at such a question, because a)we were in a dorm room that didn't even contain a sink, and b)us cook? bah.} Err, no Tara - that would be the smell of weed.
Tara: ... oh. It kind of smells like salami.