Review

This weekend, in addition to sleeping like a champion, watching untold hours of TiVo and avoiding my roommate’s birthday bash, I clocked a record 30 sets of stairs at the stadium, a feat for which I am proud but also for which the lower half of my body is now paying dearly. There are 37 sets in the Harvard stadium and by god I will get through the whole thing before winter if it’s the last thing I do. Being short (5’3”), I can’t run the big steps so I climb them instead. Running the little steps bugs the hell out of me. There are days when I wish I could be one of those lanky, athletic types who can lope up the steps with both elegance and strength but clearly it’s not in the cards.

I’m considering running a ½ marathon in San Francisco this November. Not only does the course look spectacular but I realize that I miss having an athletic goal—besides fitting into my clothes--to work toward. Do I like to compete? No. But the having of the goals is nice and productive.

This past week, Lunchboy finally got me to the theater to see Revenge of the Sith. At no point did I ever intend NOT to see this movie, but considering how awful the previous two installments were, I had no intention of dropping $10 to endure 2.5 hours of George Lucas-inflicted pain. But, like most people said, it wasn’t as bad as Attack of the Clones. Somehow the end tied up nicely and lead to the original series quite well. But I live in the hope that George Lucas will never again attempt to depict emotion on-screen. Watching EVERYTHING involving Padme and Anakin was like giving myself paper cuts with badly written Hallmark cards.