We finally saw Revenge of the Sith on Tuesday. I have decided that I will not be writing any kind of review. I am well behind on my review writing, and there are only about 18 billion reviews of this movie elsewhere.
I will say that I rather liked it. I went in with rather low expectations, and was rather delighted that the film was actually pretty good. The dialogue was pretty rotten, of course. The acting was much better than the last two, but this isn’t really saying much. I’d say the talented cast did a fair job of acting, and a very decent job of making poor writing tolerable. The action was good, if sometimes poorly filmed. Too many close ups, too many fights in cramped spaces.
As a long time fan, it was an often moving experience witnessing scenes that I have dreamed of seeing for many a year.
We went to Kehl again today. I bought some blank CDs (50 for 10 Euros!). We have quite a collection of blank discs to take back with us now. With my obsession for downloading live music, my obsession for taking pictures of every conceivable thing twice, and our tendency to burn the discs we borrow from the library, we’ve managed to fill two spindles full of burned disks.
I was also a very good husband today. I generally loath to shop, especially with Amy. It has gotten to the point where I generally refuse to go with her, because it usually ends up in a fight. Today I let her cut loose and look at every little thing her heart desired. We went from store to store browsing everything, and trying on more than I care to remember. I even let her pick out one outfit and make the purchase.
German dressing rooms are a bit less private than their American counterparts. They have individual little booths for everyone to change clothes, but they are right on the floor, as opposed to a side room. Most of the little booths have big curtains that theoretically cover up the entire booth. However, in reality they are too bulky to shut properly, and wind up leaving little cracks in them. The point here is that my wife went into a booth and changed, leaving me standing in the middle of a women’s clothing store all by myself. All these fluttering dressing booth cracks are opening up revealing tantalizing bits of flesh. Meanwhile I stand there, trying not to look (at least not obviously so) at said flesh while catching all kind of hateful glances from the other ladies, all thinking ‘what a perv.’ To feel better, and to prove I wasn’t some wandering pervert, but a nice guy taking his gal shopping, I would periodically lean my head into Amy’s booth making observations on her clothing picks.
Amy got her hair cut this evening. It cost a good fortune, but it looks very cute. It’s much shorter than before, and is actually just about my length now. Which makes us either really cute, or nauseatingly so.
It has been achingly hot here. I knew this would happen when we were all complaining about the general chilly and rainy weather a few weeks ago. It wouldn’t be so miserable if France had learned about the modern technology called an air conditioner. That’s not really true, they know what air conditioning is, I’ve felt it inside the nicer shopping centers. They just don’t equip their apartment with it.
Yes, I am a wimp. Yes, people lived without air conditioning for years and years. Yes, millions of people still live perfectly fine lives without air conditioning in much hotter climates. I am weak, I am a wuss. I want my air conditioning! Amy and I lay on opposite sides of the bed not daring to get near enough to touch, for that would bring too much heat. We sweat, we moan, we complain. Eventually we nod off and dream of icebergs.