My last semester of grad school had me digging deep into Mozartland, the confluence of studying Donna Elvira for the mainstage production of Don Giovanni and analyzing the master's music in the context of Enlightened ideals for my history class. Living with Elvira everyday, I faced this dichotomy of humor and pathetic desperation. I knew her role as the hilarious crazy ex-girlfriend meme, but at the same time I wanted to lift her out of the score, shake her vigorously, and lay on some tough love. How could Mozart let me care for her so much and yet still make her the butt of every joke?