Nothing, but NOTHING gives me writer’s block like being told I need to bring in an assignment to be evaluated by the Writing Center people.  NOTHING.  Everything I’m writing sounds trite and badly written and APPARENTLY I JUST SUCK AT THIS WRITING THING AND SHOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED NEAR A KEYBOARD AGAIN, OK????

*bangs head on desk*  *whimpers*  Why am I such a fucking perfectionist?  It doesn’t make my life anything but harder.  TT^TT

notadiagnosis:

a-ravenclaw-to-remember:

Why Do People Always Assume There’s a Quick Fix to my Chronic Illness?: A Novel by me.

PS. I promise it’s not diet and exercise.

I think I realized why this transcription is giving me such agita.

LOOK AT THIS MESS.

Me: So, here’s another question: Do you feel that you are pretty good at recognizing when students are struggling with the material being taught?

Interviewee:  Hopefully…?  Yeah I guess sometimes I recognize it; sometimes it’s harder because there’s such diverse learning styles.  To actually be able to find the way to reach that kid.  I mean that’s probably– And sometimes— I was having a discussion with somebody else, about how like–  And sometimes the kids aren’t ready to hear you yet.  You know because we’re human and, whatever, maybe they just had a fight with whomever or whatever.  So it’s kind of like–  So hopefully I recognize…?  I like to think I do.  I can’t say I do 100% of the time—who knows?

ILU, C, I REALLY DO, BUT EVERY ONE OF YOUR ANSWERS IS LIKE THIS. YOU NEVER COMPLETE A THOUGHT.  EVER.  AND IT’S DRIVING ME BATTY.

*sobs softly*

more about Melancholy in Les Mis

pilferingapples:

At this point—to omit nothing from the sketch upon which we have ventured—we will call attention to the fact that, with Christianity, and by its means, there entered into the mind of the nations a new sentiment, unknown to the ancients and marvellously developed among moderns, a sentiment which is more than gravity and less than sadness—melancholy. 

– Victor Hugo,Preface to Cromwell

“The situation of all in that fatal hour and that pitiless place, had as result and culminating point Enjolras’ supreme melancholy.”

-Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

Something I noticed during a recent discussion on the Quel Horizon speech  (and then promptly kicked myself for not noticing before); the start of that chapter is the first place Enjolras is linked with Melancholy. Not sadness or thoughtfulness; Melancholy, specifically. 

And, well. See above quote. In Victor Hugo Mythos Land, this is kind of a gigantic deal.  

Melancholy in canon era had many meanings in common use– depression, indigestion (yes) various illnesses, as well as just plain sadness– and characters use the word to indicate those meanings , like Grantaire claiming it for himself along with nostalgia and hypochondria. 

But Melancholy, for Hugo, also had a very *specific* meaning, unique to Romanticism, and especially his own near-religious approach to Romanticism, one he thought about and wrote about a fair amount.   I’ve written more about it here  but to hugely simplify: Melancholy,Hugo’s idea of Melancholy, is not just sadness in general; it’s *sorrow* , and specifically the sorrow felt by understanding and knowing the Ideal, AND understanding the grotesque, the absolute absence of the Ideal– and thus understanding the suffering caused by that distance (it’s one of two Romantic responses to understanding that gap,the other, coming from the other side of the ideal/grotesque understanding, being a specific kind of humor or laughter; as in, “Bahorel’s laughter”. That juxtaposition is not at all coincidence, but it is another post.). It is, basically, a holy or spiritual sorrow, coming from understanding and compassion; as Hugo puts it,   the suffering of the luminous over the ones still in the dark. 

This is why Enjolras associates Melancholy with Prouvaire, and considers it a strength. It’s not just  sadness, it’s a Romantic awareness of suffering–an almost divinely-inspired compassion, basically.  That is a pretty major strength for any attempt to change the world!  And it’s a marker of  Prouvaire’s status in the group as Prophet, a role Hugo always insisted poets should aspire to and embody.*

Keep reading

Meh.  It’s raining.  Which I normally like.  But this particular rain has brought a weather headache with it.  Which is SO not cool.  Because now my head aches to the point that all I want to do is SLEEP.  But if I go to sleep now, then I’ll wake up at like… 1 AM.  And I have to go to work tomorrow.

UGGGGGGGH.

Also, I’m disgruntled at a movie I watched earlier today.  I forced myself through all the romcom secondhand embarrassment… JUST TO GET A LAME FAUX HAPPY ENDING THAT WAS NOT REALLY HAPPY AT ALL.  WTF??

ANNOYING.

Also this is why I don’t trust romcoms.  I don’t really like them to begin with and then they pull THIS SHIT.  ARGH.

WHY??