365) The Very End 5:53 AM

First, watch this message from me. (If you don't have Flash 10, you can watch it in the very first panel of natalie found it.) Again, how flattering is the still image? Tried to upload it directly to Blogger, but it keeps giving me an error message. (Lesson 0.5) For the record, Tumblr is a better blogging platform than Blogger.

It's here. Number 365, the last day of The Plan. I was going to write a normal post, but there's so much to say about this project itself.

The Plan

Last April I told myself that in a year's time I would be a planner. I remember writing a note to myself in huge, all caps letters, double underlined in my journal. In a nutshell, I told myself that YOU HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN FOR YOURSELF (sounds very Captain Planet, in retrospect).

Part of what came out of that note was The Plan. I realized that while I might still be working in management, I could (and very much needed to) practice my analytic thinking and writing skills. I needed something that would push me to be more curious, to observe more, and to coherently express myself.

I'd been keeping another blog, natalie found it for over a year at that point. And while I still love it as a catch-all of things I think others should see, I would go weeks without posting anything. If I was going to blog, I needed to make a firm commitment to it (Lesson 1). I think this is true for any blog. Your commitment doesn't have to be every day, but there needs to be some sort of posting schedule to which you hold yourself.

When I started, posts could take up to a few hours to think about, craft and write. On good days I would have thought about an idea or topic throughout the day. On the bad ones, I'd get to my computer at 10:30PM with not a single meaningful thought in my head. I used to fret about shitty, short posts I pulled out of my ass. But eventually, (Lesson 2) The Plan taught me that there's good and there's bad, but in the end, it's all good as long as you just do.

Posts got easier as the year went on. I can't believe where this blog has followed me - LA, Barcelona, Seoul, Beijing & Shanghai, Palo Alto, Austin and now New York. When I started The Plan, I had no idea how much change the year would bring. In that sense, The Plan now serves as a neat little thought trajectory of the year in my life where everything changed.

Thank you

As my awkward turtle video said, THANK YOU so much for reading and for supporting this little exercise of mine. It was such an added bonus to receive comments and emails from some of you. Thank you to those who sent blog fodder - you saved my ass more than once. Thanks to the international readers - I have no idea how you found me, but your little dots on the analytics map reaffirm every day the big world outside of my little world. And thanks, Mom and Dad, for reading every day, being the best PR team ever (I have a legion of readers who are friends of my parents). Dad, thanks for being my number one spell checker.

What's next

The short answer is, I don't know. But here's what I do know:

1) The Plan was an incredible experience, and a huge part of the last year of my life. While it's gotten me to where I wanted to go (for now), I'm ready to move on to something else. So no Plan year 2 plans.

2) I do want to keep writing and blogging. Not every day, and not necessarily about what I've been covering in The Plan. I'm toying with the idea of more personal and more creative writing.

3) Whatever it is will have to push me. Maybe this means looking outside of writing, incorporating other creative media.

As you can see, there are a lot of vague question marks to address. While I'd love to continue the momentum from The Plan, I hate the idea of starting another blog just to start another blog. So I'll be taking some time to think carefully about what the next project will be. In the meantime, I'll still throw things up on natalie found it, and will be sure to update The Plan once I figure out what's next.

If you want to keep in touch in the interim, you can reach me at natalieyoungkim(at)gmail.com or peek at what I'm up to via twitter.com/natalieykim. I would love nothing more than to say hi to each and every one of you individually.

That's it for now.

Onward and thank you,
Natalie

364) Accent Awareness 6:27 PM

French Learning English. Watch more top selected videos about: Inspector, Clouseau

A coworker of mine (well, several) is from Australia. We were working in a small war room when another coworker looked up from what she was doing and asked whether she hears her own accent when she speaks, or if it sounded like we Americans were the ones with accents. While American English is notoriously "flat" and seemingly accentless, the Australian responded that she doesn't realize she's speaking differently than everyone else, and that we were the ones with the accent.

"What does it sound like to you?" we asked.

She proceed to mimic an American accent. The accent (not the imitation) sounded awful, completely crude and unrefined. Oh god, we said, that's what we sound like?

By the same token, the Australian said that whenever someone imitates her accent, she gets self-conscious and vows never to speak again. It got me thinking - does anyone hear their own accent and think, "Man, I sound awesome." Granted, an imitator is usually exaggerating in their effort to come across as authentic. Some of the ease and naturalness of the accent is lost. But there is some truth to it. Perhaps it's just startling to hear our accents, since we are usually unaware of them.

And have you ever noticed that people change the tone of their voice when imitating other languages? I grew up learning French and whenever my dad prompted me to say something, he'd always repeat me in a voice an octave higher than his normal one, his mouth delicately puckered. It's the same reason why people imitating German often resort to a deeper, guttural voice.

I'd love to come up with a study to differentiate and explain how we hear ourselves versus the way others do.



(Mini aside - the penultimate post!)

363) Dear Crunchy Leaves 8:32 PM

A friend posted a link to Dear blank, please blank on Facebook today. The site is a collection of short, quippy, user-submitted letters. Some are reflections on pop culture, others are clever jokes. I was reading through some of them and realized that they are, in essence, a bunch of little crunchy leaves. They're funny because they're true.





If you get the following reference, you might be my soulmate.



You can rake through the leaves here.

(Mini aside - Thank you, thank you for all your kind support these last few days of The Plan. Your Likes, emails and notes of congrats mean so much to me. Two days, guys!)

362) Sway Just a Little 4:36 PM

They say to write what you know. Tonight, something I know nothing about.

I had a long catch up conversation with a girlfriend of mine the other day. She has a boyfriend of several years (who does not read The Plan) who recently moved abroad (disclosed with permission, of course). Despite the commonly known and accepted fact that long distance relationships are difficult, they decided to stay together (there's a great Sex and City line that gets to the heart of it - "And then Trey told the lie that all parents to be tell themselves to procreate. 'We will be different.'")

Should she decide that for whatever reason she doesn't want to be in the relationship anymore, a cause and effect dynamic has been put in place that makes any initiation of split that much harder. Clearly, her boyfriend wouldn't have left behind a good relationship if it wasn't to pursue something important to him. But a split initiated from home will inherently make him feel like he had made a mistake, that chasing his dream was wrong - that it's the direct cause of this heartbreaking effect. And who wants to be broken up with while on foreign soil? The guilt of knowing his lack of support system abroad is enough to keep her in it.

It doesn't matter if long distance itself is the culprit, or if the distance is simply a window through which certain things about the relationship become clear - it will be interpreted the same way. It's a difficult position to be in, for all parties involved (including me, who has no idea what advice to give).

This is certainly not meant to pass judgment on those who do choose to do long distance. And clearly, not all long distance relationships are doomed (this one included). I've had plenty of friends who are doing it, have done it, and come out the other side, still together - strong, if not stronger than before. The physical separation of two people with an emotional connection is powerful, for better or for worse.

And as much as I shake my head and back away from the very thought of long distance, my friend put me in my place. "But Natalie," she said, "if it's worth it, why wouldn't you?"


(Start at 1:45. Trust.)

(Mini aside - 3!)

361) Game Frame Fork 7:13 PM

Games and play have exploded. If you've been following The Plan, you'll know I've written about it multiple times in the past. It seems that everywhere I look, someone else is talking about gamification, or the game layer. Jane Macgonigal at TED, Seth Priesbatch at SXSW, and Aaron Dignan at the PSFK 2011 conference (see trailer for Dignan's book above).

One distinction Dignan made at the end of his talk at PSFK was that there are two paths we can take when it comes to applying game mechanics to the real world. The first path uses game mechanics to sell things, using incentives such as points, badges or coupons. These carrots, while beneficial to us in the short term, will be meaningless and unsustainable in the long term.

The second path uses games for learning skills, focusing on the mechanics behind things. By employing game dynamics we can be motivated and engaged enough to not only better ourselves, and to actually have fun doing it.

I like this notion that not just any type of game is the right one to employ. As games continue to race towards their tipping point and people jump to be part of it, this will be crucial measuring stick to keep in mind.

(Mini aside - I am mentally fried. Trying to put together something special for my last day. Four more.)

360) But What If? 7:27 PM

I was lucky enough to snag my friend Jesse for brunch while he was in town (check out his music project, Imaginary Friend above). We caught up on things, and ended up having a discussion on deal sites like Groupon (spurred by a very inappropriate text message I received from a gentleman at SXSW - another story for another blog). I've written before about deal sites, and my personal barriers to purchase.

And yet, I still wake up to an inbox of at least three different deal sites, Groupon included. Why I don't just unsubscribe is simple. It's just like trying to clean out your closet. Sure, you haven't worn that sweater in three years, but what if the perfect occasion arises and you've tossed it? It's the "what if" that keeps the sweater snugly tucked away in the bottom drawer. (I ashamedly held onto a pleated plaid skirt for years in the off chance I'd need it for a themed party. No joke. It's gone now.)

The same applies to deal site emails. Sure, I've never actually bought into a Groupon deal, but what if there's a killer deal on something I'd actually want someday in the future? The psychological what if hump is hard to get over.

(Mini aside - 5 days!)

359) Untitled, Apparently 6:25 PM

The Bolt Bus wireless is failing me, so it'll have to be a cell post tonight. This is made even more tragic by the fact that this is my final week of The Plan.

We were eating brunch this morning and one of the assorted dips that came with someone's fries tasted a little like baby food (#firstworldproblems). It was some sweet brandied tomato concoction that no one could quite handle.

The comment about baby food set my brain in motion. Back in our primitive days, mothers had to physically chew up food before feeding it to her child, much as our animal and bird friends still do. Once we had tools they were able to mush up the food by hand.

For some reason it struck me that today, there are companies who do this for us. They process fruit and veggies and pipe them into cute little jars. There is this whole industry that is simulating motherhood to make the modern woman's life a little easier.

Just something I was thinking about. Not meant to pass judgment, and certainly not meant to suggest that mothers should be chewing up their food and spitting it out today. It does make me wonder what type of mother I'll be (in the very distant future). Will I be filling my cart with pre-mushed food, or will I try to cook and food process it myself?

(Mini aside - much fun in DC. Sleepy, and to my delight, slightly flushed from sun exposure.)

358) A Very Important Person 12:11 PM

When it comes to events, clubs, etc. is there anything worse than "the list" culture? The anxiety over whether or not you're friend actually put you on the list, or whether you can get in without being on the list. Being denied in front of a whole line of people, dealing with the bouncer's power-trip attitude. And waiting in a long ass line, only to watch VIP slip in unhindered.

Unless you yourself are VIP. All you can think about is how great VIP is, how much fun you're having, how privileged you inherently feel. You don't, for a second, think about the riffraff who are still waiting outside, while you're already three drinks deep and have had your way with the dance floor.

But though it never crosses a VIP's mind, one cannot fully appreciate the VIP experience without having known the other side.

(Mini aside - currently on a bus down to DC for the weekend. Looking forward to my cousin's bday party, the cherry blossom festival, and slightly warmer weather.)

357) Emotional Design 7:56 PM

I was fortunate enough to attend PSFK's annual conference today. It was a day full of insightful speakers, and my head is buzzing with the interconnectedness of everything. I have pages of notes, but wanted to pull out one point that really struck me for tonight's post.

An associate professor at Georgia Tech's College of Computing started noticing pictures of people dressing up their Roomba vacuum cleaners (yes, people do this), and decided to study the phenomenon. Her 2007 report suggests that we can become emotionally attached to our gadgets and forgive them for not picking up all the dirt on the floor.

“They’re more willing to work with a robot that does have issues because they really, really like it,” [she] says. “It sort of begins to address more concerns: If we can design things that are somewhat emotionally engaging, it doesn’t have to be as reliable.”

This idea of "emotional design" was touched upon at a panel today called What's Next: A Panel on the Future. One panelist made this very important point: artists and designers should be involved in making technology, not just skinning it. Artists understand engagement, entertainment, and self-expression, which can help solve more nuanced emotional issues - something that computer science and engineering hasn't been able to crack.

Totally unrelated photos. I went to the Highline Ballroom right after the conference ended to see my friends Jesse and Kina play a show. Jesse got me a pass so I was able to sneak in early and watch him sound check. Was so good to see familiar faces from LA.


(Click click for full-size glory.)

356) Youthfully Ignorant 7:29 PM

We've all heard that youth is wasted on the young. We all have things we wish we could tell our 13, 16, 18 and 21 year old selves in order to avoid mistakes and truly appreciate the past. Generation after generation grow old, and still we are unable to "teach" the youngins how to make the most of their prime years.

I myself frequently think back on things that I thought were so important and so serious five or ten years ago, and laugh. This too shall pass, I mentally inform all the lovelorn teenagers. Things are not as serious as you think, so just enjoy, I whisper wisely.

But for all my sagacity, there's a great probability that I'll look back on my 20's when I'm 50 and still feel a small sting of dang, I wish I had...

For what is youth, if not the unknown, if not the reckless optimism of naivete, if not the subject of a lesson learned? And what is aging, if not making those mistakes and figuring it out for yourself along the way? "Youth is wasted on the young" is a faulty, regretful and almost bitter sentiment. Youth isn't wasted on the young, because youth is the young (duh), in all its misguided awkwardness, freak outs over nothing, and pining for the impossible (heck, I still do this...still got it!).


(Oh, college. I look like a baby. I distinctly remember what's happening in this picture. My roommate was packing for a weekend trip home, and we discovered that I fit in almost all of her luggage.)

355) Is This a Poem? 8:12 PM

Caution.
The beverage you
are about to
consume
is very hot.

I took a creative writing course at the local community college the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in high school. The very first class, the teacher wrote the above - taken off a Starbucks cup - on the board and asked whether or not it was a poem.

Somehow this little demonstration always stuck with me. The idea of manipulating words, line breaks and structure to create meaning outside of the literal. I've always had an appreciation of poetry, and have been on an extra kick as of late. It's poetry month over at Knopf, which means I get a poem in my inbox every day in April (sign up! it's lovely).

All this has made me think about online conversations as potential poetry. As wonderful as they are, face to face conversations are lost unless recorded. Online - whether it be a chat log, email chain or Facebook comment thread - provides a wealth of words just waiting to be worked with.

354) Fear of Subject Syndrome 5:55 PM

The other day, a friend of mine commented that he sometime wondered if our conversations were research fodder for me, in an unconscious way. How terrible to feel like you're being studied, when you're just trying to shoot the shit.

Therein lies one of my fears in being a planner. I don't want to use the lines, "it's hard to turn off" or "I'm always on," because it makes me sound like a robot. But there is something to be said about the researcher-subject role, and being able to keep that dynamic separate from life outside of work.

But where does one draw the line? I do pull inspiration and anecdotes from encounters with friends, things I've read on Facebook and Twitter, etc. I try to keep personal conversations out of The Plan, though many are the jumping off point for a particular topic (tonight included). Clearly, I don't operate in a vacuum, but can think of nothing worse than friends succumbing to subject syndrome, changing their natural behavior because they know they're being studied (there's an official name for this syndrome, but I can't find it).

(Mini aside - 11 more days! Having trouble wrapping my head around April 16 and what happens next. Also, ladies (and gentlemen?) - do you ever have days where you just have to take pictures of yourself? I'm not sure why I've been all self-portraity lately. In my head, lame/vain, but could also be a reflection of how attractive I'm feeling on a particular day. Ack, now I'm studying myself.)

353) Missing Bling 3:57 PM

Warning: slightly morbid post ahead.

I don't typically wear a lot of jewelry, but have an appreciation for rings. On days when I'm feeling festive, I'll wear bunch of them at once, and on more low-key days a solitary one will do.

Some rings I buy on an eye-caught whim (never over $20 - too easy to lose), and others carry special meaning. Without consciously meaning to initially, I formed a habit of purchasing a ring in every country I visit, and at every significant period of my life. Each is a small reminder of another time, of somewhere else.

The four shown above are what I like to call my "missing girl" rings. I'm usually wearing one if not all of them on any given day. Morbidly, I imagine that this is the jewelry the police would use to identify me, if real life was like CSI. From left to right:

1) Bought at the Brooklyn flea market last May when I came to NY to feel out the city before committing to move. "Shift Key" has not only served as a great conversation starter (especially in interviews - I've been asked three separate times whether my ring says "Shit Key"), but it's also become a bit of a reminder to shift perspectives and try to look at things from a different angle.

2) Bought at one of the jewelry stands along Bruin Walk at UCLA. I'd been looking forever for a ring with these dark, black stones all clustered together.

3) My rabbit ring. My brother bought it for me when we were in Seoul last summer at one of those crazy street markets. I love that it looks like Frank from Donnie Darko.

4) The ring that started it all. I bought this plain, sterling silver band during my first abroad program to France, back at the beginning of high school. I'm amazed it hasn't been lost.

I wrote once about paranoidly checking the backseat of my car on dark nights, or imagining someone waiting under my car to slit my Achilles heel. As weirdly graphic and specific as it sounds, I received a couple comments from females who said that they have the same fears. Is this another one of those? Do other females think of the jewelry they wear every day as potential identifiers, should something happen? Or have I just been watching too many episodes of Law & Order: Special Victim's Unit?

352) Self-Denial is a Slippery Slope 3:27 PM

Something a little different tonight.

One of my favorite weekend activities is browsing the $1 book stacks outside of The Strand. It's like a treasure hunt, sorting through piles of random topics, unedited advanced copies and outdated how-tos. And there's nothing more thrilling than paying for three books with change.

Yesterday, I walked away with a few books, including one entitled, Going Hungry: Writers on Desire, Self-Denial and Overcoming Anorexia, which I've been poring over all day.

Let me qualify my choice and put my parents' minds at ease by saying straight out that I've never had an eating disorder. What drew me to hand over the $1 for it is the concept of want and self-denial, which I think is one of the most fascinating things to read about. The idea that we are constantly checking our true wants in order to appear socially appropriate, or in this case, as a means to an end.

What has surprised me most about the book is how much it's made me evaluate my own eating habits, the way I think about food, and my body. I've actually been thinking about posting on this topic for awhile, but never knew how to approach it without sounding like I was generalizing about a serious issue. I've decided that the best way is to just write about my own experience.

Another reason why I've always hesitated about putting down my thoughts on the topic is that I have this image of males responding with this: "Groan, another broad with body image issues." I'm not quite sure why I paint the worst, most insensitive response in my head, but I suspect it's a reflection of my own reaction. How cliché, I think.

Here's what I believe, based on me: it is a slippery slope between fairly normal, acceptable eating/body concerns to a full-blown, diagnosable eating disorder. There is no definite line to cross, and starting at the harmless end can quickly and easily lead to the other extreme. It's just a question of whether you get there or not.

Here is what I know to be true about my relationship with my body and with food. You, dear readers, can judge (well, hopefully not judge) where I toe the line.

1) I've always been fairly comfortable with my body. I'm 5'4", petite, normally developed and proportional. Up through high school, I never thought about my body and was generally at peace with the way I looked. I swam competitively, maintained a normal diet, and never once thought about what I should or should not be eating. I graduated high school at 110 pounds.

Then in college, I gained the stereotypical freshman 15. Erratic exercise habits, all you can eat dining halls and late night, after-party Puzzles runs (fond memories of this on-campus burger, pizza, fries, everything-terrible-for-you joint) - all of your typical elements for initial weight gain. I was by no stretch of the imagination fat, or even overweight (healthy weight for my height is 120. At the worst, I was 122), but to me the extra weight showed on my small body. This has always been a tenet for me - my small Asian frame makes any seemingly negligible amount of weight gain more noticeable.

These days, I've come back down to around 115. While I feel like I'm hyper-alert to minor changes in my body, on the whole I appreciate my form. The only part that really bothers me are my thighs. To me, they are disproportional to the rest of me. What's truly silly is that when I see pictures of my legs, they look great. But from my perspective, looking down at them, they don't. Clearly, there is something at play.



2) In my mind, I've never seriously dieted. Of course, I go through phases where I'll watch what I eat more carefully. This has only gotten more frequent as I've gotten older. But I've never put myself on a strict regimen. I hate the idea of deprivation, of not being able to eat what I want. I'm a wannabe foodie, and discovering new restaurants, dishes and cheap eats is one of the things I adore about living in a big city.

Instead, I try to make smarter choices (at least, that's what I tell myself). Eat less meat, especially red, opt for veggies, try not to overdo it on bread and rice (wheat and brown, respectively). The only liquids I drink other than water are coffee, tea, milk with cereal and the occasional alcoholic beverage. If I have a snack attack (every two hours - for whatever reason, I feel like I'm constantly hungry at work. I think a lot of it is procrastination/stress eating), I'll reach for fruit instead of chips in the kitchen. I try to be portion conscious, as I'm convinced that we need way less than we're usually served.

But I struggle with a couple things. The first is my sweet tooth. I inherited from my father, and if I had my way, I would always say yes to dessert. I love strolling new neighborhoods and popping into small bakeries and confectioneries to sample this and that.

The second is that given the right circumstances, I have little self-control when it comes to food I keep in my apartment. I've eaten a whole bag of grapes in one day, and an entire box of Blue Diamond almond crackers in one sitting. This compulsive (dare I say) binge habit (again, I suspect procrastination/stress at fault) forces me to keep only healthy food in my kitchen. You'll find no secret stash of chocolate here.

3) Case in point. Here's what I ate today. I walked to Whole Foods and invested in one of those small containers of pre-sliced berries for breakfast. For lunch, I stopped for a chopped salad with a slice of 9 grain bread on the side. I was out and about all morning, and by the time I came home, nothing sounded better than one of the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I'd bought at the green market on Saturday on a whim. Except that one sizable cookie (about the size and thickness of my hand) became two. To make up for it (a common, and often misguided theme in Going Hungry) I had a large, fresh-pressed carrot/apple juice and about half of a cold sesame noodle appetizer for dinner. Finally, I've been munching on a large bowl of grapes as I write. (In retrospect, the dinner sounds ridiculous, and completely unbalanced. Actually a little ashamed of it.)

I realize this has been long-winded, and kudos if you've made it this far. I'm not sure what I'm trying to accomplish by disclosing all of this, other than to illustrate the point that there is a fine line between "normal" eating/body concerns and an eating disorder. You start to see common themes and beliefs that are shared between the two. This isn't a cry for help or pity - again, though I know my body and food habits aren't ideal (in a perfect world, I'd find something active that I love so I don't have to make an effort to exercise, and could eat whatever I wanted), I am nowhere near as drastic as some of the writers in the book.

Most anorexia stems from some emotional distress, neglect, abuse or aesthetic pressure during childhood, and becomes the way of exerting control over one's life. I'm thankful to report that I had none of those things. I received plenty of love from my family and friends, enjoyed enough attention from boys, and didn't hang out with those obsessed with their weight. I have no seeming reason to worry about eating habits, other than plain old vanity, or if I'm rationalizing, to be "healthy".

Not really sure how to end this, other than to say: Mom, Dad, please don't freak out. I'm happy and healthy. Promise.

351) Genuine Flash Mobs 6:32 PM

Quick post tonight, as I'm heading out in a bit.

It's really uncomfortable when a video tries too hard be viral instead of just letting it happen naturally. I'm convinced that there is no formula for viralness, and that the unspoken power of viral lies solely in the hands of viewers.

By the same token, there's nothing sadder than a flash mob gone wrong. About a week ago, a couple co-workers were buzzing about a flash mob that was happening at noon in Union Square, right by our office. A few of us went down to grab lunch and to check it out. The "flash mob" amounted to a group of cheerleaders performing their routine while people carried in water jugs to celebrate World Water Day (just checked - it was a Levis-backed stunt). It was little more than a ripple, a flash in the pan, and definitely not a mob.

Cut to today.


(Video is of the same event last year.)

It was National Pillow Fight Day, and Union Square hosted one of the NYC ones this afternoon. I walked by earlier as it was winding down, but there was still a joyful energy in the air. The ground was covered in feathers and fluff, and everyone had little bits stuck in their hair like snow. I took a few pictures which I'll post later.

Like the viral videos, there's something to be said about the organic nature of flash mobs. Mobs for the sake of something fun will very often prove to be more successful than brand-backed gatherings.

350) The Cost of Being Fooled 5:27 PM

One year when I was in elementary school, my mom sat me down and told me that I was going to be transferred from the school I loved to a boarding school on the east coast. I can still remember exactly where we were. We were visiting my grandfather up in Sonoma for the weekend. She sat me down at the kitchen table, looked me straight in the eye, and delivered the news. I started to cry and stammer in protest - I distinctly remember saying, "But...I'm really happy at Pinewood..." as if trying to make a case against the idea.

Of course, it was an April Fool's joke. While I must have been vaguely aware of what day it was, the news was so terrifying (and well performed) that I couldn't not react as if it was true. It would be too costly if I assumed it was a joke and it turned out to be true.

Fast forward to April 1, 2011. Three separate Facebook acquaintances got engaged today. They changed their relationship statuses, sat back and awaited the reactions. Initial ones were purely congratulatory, and included a lot of exclamation points. Again, to not react accordingly to big news, even on April Fool's day and especially given our not-unheard-of-to-be-engaged age, is costly. Eventually, one commenter will gently question whether it's an April Fool's joke. Once the seed's been planted, once one person makes it okay to cast doubt, everyone follows suit.

It's as if it's better to react appropriately and be fooled, than to question and be wrong. Though everyone should know that anything done today would be cast in a shadow of doubt. And then there are those who use that fact to their advantage, so that their crazy news is even crazier because it's true on April Fool's day.


(Google's oft looked forward to annual April Fool's prank. While the movements themselves are silly, I feel like the concept itself isn't that far off. How great if they released the real Gmail Motion tomorrow or next week? Oh, and PS - cue card reading, much?)