I submitted around fifteen resumes this week, some of them for jobs I'm actually qualified to do, and I got three responses, none of which led to interviews, which makes me think I may need to embellish my resume. "It says here you were a dancer for the American Ballet Theater." "Yes, that was after I finished up my MBA at Harvard." Seriously, some of the requirements these people have are retarded. Part of the problem is that I live in New York City and everyone is qualified, so they have to sift through applicants somehow, and of course the economy sucks right now, and then there is the fact that I don't try very hard.
In happier news, I do have a job now (it turns out I always had this job, it's just that things are kind of hectic for them right now and they hadn't gotten around to giving me any assignments, so I thought I'd been fired) and I start work on Monday. I also have my translation work, which is nice. But oh man, I want money. I will get money, by hook or by crook or by working. You'll see.
And now, for my weekly one-paragraph book review (this may or may not be weekly):
I just finished Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. I'd read the short story version before and liked it, so I had high expectations, but they were shattered because this book sucks. For one thing, all the footnotes about Trujillo are distracting. Your readers will understand who he is from context, so stop treating us like idiots. Then you have this blatant misogyny, which every single character exhibits. That's another thing: all the characters are the same character, and they're all one-dimensional. And that's all fine, whatever, but this won a Pulitzer, and if this book deserves anything more than a spot on the $1.99 rack at Duane Reade, then my dog should get a Nobel Peace Prize for puking on the rug.
As a side note, I've heard that Mr. Diaz is a complete asshole. I can believe it. He certainly looks like one in the jacket photo.
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