Word: dead-end
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Grace Anderson-Smith, 22, is seeing his point. After graduating with a B.A. in economics from Wesleyan in May 2001, she has yet to find permanent work but is holding out hope that she won't have to settle for a dead-end job. She is still campaigning hard for something in marketing but is open to other options. "I've done everything you're supposed to do," she says. "I went to a good school, got good grades, played a sport, did a four-year internship and have been networking like crazy." After sending out more than 100 resumes...
...typical salaryman now endures a daily allotment of petty humiliation. On his way to his dead-end job, he glances up to see a jumbo TV screen showing middle-aged men in boxer shorts dancing the parapara, a kind of disco line dance. After work, he steps around homeless men at the train station who once had stable jobs like his. If he seeks solace at his favorite izakaya, or pub, he may find ridicule in the form of oyaji gals, young women who get their kicks by dressing in wrinkled men's suits and doing salaryman impressions: swilling beer...
...personal (maternal) happiness. I’d like to be able to prepare an afternoon snack for my kids and go to all their T-ball games and still have 800 employees, but I’m scared I’ll find myself at 45 in a dead-end job with four resentful brats and a stranger as a husband. Not even Daddy can offer advice on this...
...companion “Acoustic Hits” disc is a bit of a dead-end, apparently motivated by the 80s belief that any music based around an acoustic guitar automatically gains extra kudos. The truth is that the songs, stripped of goofy studio effects, start to sound washed-up. The exception is the sublime parody “Love Cats,” whose deranged music-hall sound blossoms in the stripped-down arrangement. The brilliance of the Cure is their ability to play fantastic songs while giving the convincing impression of playing throwaway music. Pinning their hits down...
...stands at the end of a newly created dead-end road, half a mile from campus. All that identifies it to passers-by is a small blue historical marker set there by the city of Cambridge—and that’s the way Harvard’s presidents have wanted it. For just as the house stands as a symbol of the job, it also is a private place for reflection and a chance to escape the daily stresses of Massachusetts Hall...