Perditorian - The Perditorian

Present-day me is giving this an amen, and 12-year-old me is jumping up and down on the furniture.

Call me when Louisa May Alcott regrets Amy/Laurie.

She is so mobile and expressive and utterly gorgeous.

Mary Morstan’s perfect face

http://ivyblossom.tumblr.com/post/98348940620/we-always-think-we-know-people-every-time-we

We always think we know people.

Every time we open our mouths, we reshape the shape people give us inside their own heads. Everyone, even someone we’ve just met, has a whole picture of us, a picture made up mostly of what they imagine about us, things they infer based on preferences, experiences,...

OMG. This would have made those days SO MUCH BETTER!

save for yourself and for future generations

How I Teach Men Not To Talk Over Me: from one feminist to another, when basic respect is lagging and conversations are impossible

I’ve done this to several men, and they catch on rather quickly. You’ll be able to have a conversation right then and there, and it works long term too - they might’ve forgot their manners by the time you talk to them again, but by repeating this, they’ll eventually learn to let you talk without you having to do this at the start of every convo. Source: I have a very stubborn older brother, who eventually learned too.

1. When they interrupt you, stop talking. Don’t try to raise your voice or battle them. Be completely quiet and wait.

2. Ignore everything they’re saying. Do not actually listen - just wait until they shut up. Don’t make a point of anything they say, do not answer to anything they say, do not refer to anything they say here. Literally do not listen a single word. Let them rant as long as they want.

3. When they finally shut up and wait for your reaction, say: ”I wasn’t done talking.”

4. Start over whatever you were saying when they interrupted you. I don’t care if it was a 10-minute explanation of rocket science. Start. Over. Repeat you original thought, but do not add anything related to what they just said while talking over you. That gives them the idea that it’s okay to interrupt you, you’ll still listen and pay attention and they’ll get their point clear without having to listen to yours. (It’s especially funny when you get done and they expect you to keep going talking about whatever they talked over you. The face when it sinks in that you didn’t listen a single word is glorious.)

5. If they interrupt you again, return to step 1. If you find yourself repeating the cycle over 3 times, tell them: ”you’re not letting me speak. Either you listen and wait for your turn, or our conversation ends here.” If they try to make excuses, laugh it off or keep interrupting, end the conversation. Prove them that if they wont let you speak, they’re not worth your time.

Why does this work? First, because sometimes talking over is internalized and men don’t actually notice they’re doing it. Being vocally called out makes them realize it and pay attention to it - especially if it happens more than once. Secondly, by refusing to aknowledge anything they say when they interrupt you, they’ll soon realize they will not get their own point across if they keep doing that. Peoole and especially men have the need to be heard and paid attention to when they talk - when you make it clear that by talking over you, they will not have your attention, they’ll learn to wait until you’re done, because they know that’s when you will be paying attention and actually listening.

Go my darlings. Have some actual conversations where your point of view is just as valid as his. Demand the basic respect of being heard. You can actually have some interesting conversations with men when they’re forced to listen too, when being louder is not going to make them feel like they’re dominating the conversation or winning the argument.

I wrote over 2600 words on my thesis today. No i am not joking or kidding. No I am not on any drugs or even caffeine. I just sat down and wrote. This is hands down the most productive day of my life. We will never see it’s like again.

Reblog to give urself the power of productive days. Ignore to still get the power of productive days because you have seen this post it will bless you and your mind anyway. But just know ur a lil shit for not sharing the power of productive days with your pals.

If you are 35 or younger - and quite often, older - the advice of the old economy does not apply to you. You live in the post-employment economy, where corporations have decided not to pay people. Profits are still high. The money is still there. But not for you. You will work without a raise, benefits, or job security. Survival is now a laudable aspiration.

Quoted from Sarah Kendzior’s “Surviving the Post-Employment Economy" 

“In the United States, nine percent of computer science majors are unemployed, and 14.7 percent of those who hold degrees in information systems have no job. Graduates with degrees in STEM - science, technology, engineering and medicine - are facing record joblessness, with unemployment at more than twice pre-recession levels. The job market for law degree holders continues to erode, with only 55 percent of 2011 law graduates in full-time jobs. Even in the military, that behemoth of the national budget, positions are being eliminated or becoming contingent due to the sequester.

It is not skills or majors that are being devalued. It is people.”

Her work is frank, speaking of a reality I hope that will never be mine. At the same time, it gives me a strange comfort to know that I am not alone.

(via sextus—empiricus)

——

50 years ago, I would have been at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, in an office with my name on the door.

10 years ago, I would have been in Hannah Horvath’s version of GQ’s advertorial department, with my own cube and free snacks (as soon as the episode aired, viewers noted that even GQ has cut back, and the image of Hannah’s cheerful office is out of date)

Today, I do all of the same type of work from home, with no benefits or job security. 

BUT I CAN WORK IN MY PAJAMAS HEY

(via hello-the-future)

A limerick:

Doesn’t look like a limerick to you? Try this:

A dozen, a gross and a score Plus three times the square root of four Divided by seven Plus five times eleven Is nine squared and not a bit more.

Note this was from a YEAR ago.

There are lots of things that occur to me far later than they should. The thing about Mrs Hudson that I should have noticed but didn’t was the first one: I’m sure there will be a million more, because I am not particularly detail-oriented, to be honest. This is the second thing I just realized: Sherlock didn’t originally want John to be his assistant. He wanted Anderson to play that role.

Sherlock: Who’s on forensics? Lestrade: Anderson. Sherlock: Anderson won’t work with me.

Not Anderson is an idiot, but Anderson won’t work with me. Sherlock then proceeds to take John along with him to a crime scene, and is remarkably patient and accommodating with him. Why does he do that? Sherlock is neither patient nor accommodating as a general rule. When John deduces only the most obvious and basic details about Jennifer Wilson’s death, Sherlock isn’t scornful at all. Why does he behave this way?

Lestrade: He’s not your assistant. Sherlock: I need an assistant!

We know he doesn’t bring John along for his own innate skills, because when John asks why he’s there, as they’re standing over Jennifer Wilson’s body, Sherlock says, “Proving a point.” He doesn’t really care what John has to offer to the investigation of the crime scene, that’s why he’s not bothered by John’s simple description of the cause of death. That wasn’t the point.

He’s trying to make Anderson jealous.

These two appear to have a tumultuous relationship; they must have argued over bodies before. Sherlock must respect Anderson’s abilities; why else would he want him as an assistant? So Sherlock wants to demonstrate, in the most childish way possible, that if Anderson won’t play ball, he will lock him out altogether. That’s the worst thing Sherlock can imagine: being tantalizingly close to the crime scene and his own dazzling deductions, but not be able to hear them or participate.

So Sherlock slams the door in Anderson’s face. It’s not because noting that Rache is a German word is dumb (It was something that passed through Sherlock’s mind as well, as we know); it’s becauseSherlock is proving his point.

 I don’t need you. See? See me not needing you? How do you like that, Anderson? HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? I can deduce the fact that you’re cheating on your wife with Sally, I know what you were doing last night. See? Aren’t I good? That’s how good I am. You want to be my assistant, Anderson, don’t you. You need to, because I’m dazzling and you need to watch me. If you ask really nicely I might let you act as my assistant next time. I just might. 

Sherlock doesn’t realize at that point that the perfect assistant for him is John. Anderson won’t fire a bullet with the steadiest of hands through a window for him. Anderson won’t help him behave appropriately in social situations and smooth out the rough edges of his interactions. Anderson may admire Sherlock’s abilities, but he’d never say so out loud. Anderson will never love him. John’s arrival utterly alters the job description of “assistant” for Sherlock. We never hear the word “assistant” again, in fact (to my knowledge).

Sherlock’s reactions toward Anderson, and all the negative things he has to say about him thereafter, appear, in this light, to be more a reaction to Anderson’s rejection of Sherlock than any scornfulness about his abilities. 

Sherlock has the emotional life of a nine year old.