--Eddie, in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Well.

I just came back from seeing a performance of Rodgers and Hammerstein's Carousel at my college. I had had no prior experience with the musical. Which turns out to be just as well.

Let me say this for it: the backdrops were gorgeous. Definite thumbs-up to the set designer and stage managers.

The play, on the other hand... It was bad. It was awful. It was a complete mess. It was a stinking sack of sentimental, sexist crap. (I just managed to resist that last bit of alliteration.) I think Three by Feydeau keeps the title for the most excruciating theatrical performance I've been subjected to, but it's a close call.

(In fact, the male lead on Carousel reminded me a lot of one of the performers in the Feydeau plays. But I double-checked the programs, and it's not the same person. Hey, I was in the back of the room, cut me some slack.)

I suppose the choreography was done well, and there were a couple of good performances, given what the actors had to work with. But what they had to work with was so unredeemably awful... I can't understand why anybody would choose to perform this in the first place.

Unless, of course, the way the play is supposed to be performed, there's a genuine moment of redemption for the male lead, with real hope for the future provided in the end. In which case the producers and/or performers botched it up badly, 'cause that sure didn't come across to where I was sitting.

At least the next couple of seats were empty, so I was able to move away from the primary offenders in my area during the intermission.

Yeesh, I didn't know that. See, he was part of the coverage team on ABC on Election Night. I liked him. I just didn't know who he was.

Well, he was just on ABC again, and this time I caught his name when they flashed it at the bottom of the screen.

Hmm. Go figure.

On the first test in my comedy class -- the two-hour test I arrived an hour late to -- I ended up with a B/B+. It was noted next to the grade that the material there was all good, but there simply wasn't enough of it. I can't argue with that.

On the first test in my drama class... actually, there's a slightly amusing sidenote here, in that before handing the graded exams back, the professor briefly reviewed how the class had done, and mentioned that, for the first time in his decades of teaching, he had had to use a magnifying glass to read one student's answers.

I didn't have any doubt about whom he'd meant. Oops.

Anyway, I ended up with an A- there, only because my reply to the one long-answer question was way too concise. Which I knew at the time; I'd left it for last, and had taken too much time on the short answer questions. Oh, well. I'll make it up on the final, I hope.

(The strategy wasn't a bad one, incidentally. I correctly noted that the seven 10-point questions were worth more than the one 30-point question, and tackled 'em first, getting full credit on all of them. Others in the class started with the 30-pointer, went overtime, and blew a bunch of the shorter ones as a result. Given that I didn't have enough time to answer everything in the detail I was (mistakenly) providing, the choice was still a pretty good one in hindsight.)

'Course, I've also just realized that I need to give him my term paper topic on Tuesday, and said paper is due on a day I'm gonna be in Chicago, so this is going to be interesting. I guess I'd better think of a topic and write the thing pretty quickly.

(Then again, it's a 1500-word essay, involving three plays, so, if anything, the main challenge is going to lie in keeping it short enough.)

As for painting... don't ask, okay? Just don't ask.

Finals arrive. Meep.

Okay, Shmuel, one day at a time...

Unfortunately, it turns out that I chose the wrong airport -- Midway, instead of O'Hare -- so the groom is currently trying to figure out how I can get from Point A to Point B in time for the wedding. I love complications...

The other complication is that I'll be arriving home the next night, but will miss Buffy and Angel. I'm gonna have to find a way of getting a tape of 'em ASAP afterward.

Me? Obsessed? If I were really obsessed, I'd have rejected the notion of checking out the University of Chicago that day, and have booked an earlier flight back to New York.