There are certain problems inherent in doing rushed translations of Russian poetry, especially when I'm drunk. The end result is that I look at what I've written the next morning, and come across phrases like "As if with pain life from the heart is wrenched." Now, this does make sense, if you wrap your head around it, but it would have been amusing to get to class and find that I was supposed to do interpretations of something of which I couldn't understand my English version. Hyuk hyuk. Hijinks in the life of a Russian literature concentrator.
Other problems inherent with studying Russian literature, or more probably just in my case, is when you go out drinking with one of the grad students (I know it was Monday, but we had just finished the performance of the Slavic play, ok? I had to wear a glorified curtain and SING PUBLICLY. Though it turned out something more akin to yodelling.) and happen to make a comment about how your tutorial leader really needs to grow his sideburns back, the grad student is apt to actually be friends with said tutorial leader, in fact is apt to have blown him off for drinks to go out with me and a couple other people, and is apt to think that it would be a really funny thing to call this sideburnless individual and inform him that one of his students really thinks he needs to grow them back. Now, this is a fact. His hair is shaved unnaturally to a point where it is in line with the top of his ears, and I can't help but stare fixedly at the blank spots in front of his ears for the entire two hours of class. Unfortunately, however, he only HAS five students, period, and the other four aren't of age, and he happened to have seen me hanging out with my grad student right before we went to the pub, so he's pretty sure to figure this out. I can't believe that I inadvertantly insulted this poor man. Grah.
Let that be a lesson, boys. If you have sharp cheekbones and a superficial student, don't do strange things to your hair.