Talking about Chekhov: I fucking hate him. I liked "The Bear" - while a bit obvious, it was humorous. But his big plays ("Uncle Vanya", "The Seagull", "Three Sisters") - they are awful. Awful awful awful. I just don't understand why people enjoy his plays. They aren't particularly unique or well-written, nothing of substance ever happens, and his plots are convoluted to the point of being incomprehensible. This is not art! This is a motherfucking play! Christ.
Of course, I feel like an idiot for not liking Chekhov. I mean, he's THE Russian playwright. Half of you probably read his plays in high school and loved them. But he just isn't clicking for me, and that's just driving me insane. In previous semesters, when I took other Russian lit or film classes, it felt as if every day I was discovering a new favorite book or film. This semester, I'm discovering new reasons to hate plays and acting. That's kind of frustrating.
Sunday I went to Amanda's flute recital, studied, and read. Monday I studied some more, took, and miserably failed my Russian test. Well, okay, I don't think I failed it, but I don't think I did so hot either. Oh, and I got my grade on my speech - an A. Hot damn.
Monday night/Tuesday morning I worked and studied some more. Tuesday morning I slept, went to campus, read my e-mail - and discovered that Dr. J cancelled Russian Drama, so I didn't need to come to campus. Very lame. So I went home and slept for a few hours, and then watched Vanya on 42nd Street for my Drama class. I need to write a paper on it. Sucks that it was such a shitty movie.
Three spiders dead in three days. That brings the total to 20-25 in the last month. Fuck I hate spiders.
Today I'm just going to classes and zoning out. It's obviously time for the semester to end.