"Wicked"ly Obsessed

I have to admit that I have listened to the CD of the new broadway musical "Wicked" about a thousand times. It's one of those things that no matter how often or how loud the people around you grumble because they will simply DIE if they have to listen to Glinda's ditzy voice singing about how popular she is one more time, you just can't seem to turn it off! It's like in the movie "You've Got Mail" when Meg Ryan tells Tom Hanks that she's read the book "Pride and Prejudice" about two hundred times and every time she reads it she's in agony over whether Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (who's first name still appears to be "Mr." no matter how many times I watch the movie hoping they'll slip out his real identity) are really going to get together! I have to agree with Meg that no matter how well you know the story, you still sit there shaking in anticipation to hear it unfold into all of it's amazing wonderfulness.

I will proudly admit that some of my neighbors, friends and, yes, miraculously, even a few family members are now completely hooked on the story of Elphaba, the not-so-wicked witch of the west, thanks to my constant babbling. One of my older sisters even got so sick of my obsession with it that she finally consented to listening to it on the way to a family reunion. Much to my dismay, I rode home with my brother-in-law in a different car and couldn't retrieve the CD from her last night. She came over today, though, and when I asked her for it back when she came in to say goodbye the response was, "Dang it! I knew I should have just left. Do you really need it back tonight?" Yes, my amazing attempts at showing my family where TRUE happiness lies have paid off. Only two siblings and a grumbling father have so far dodged any attempts I've made at showing off the grand story. Still, I'm sure that in time, thanks to my excellent sterio and not so amazing piano skills, it's only a matter of time before it'll rub off on them.

I had the grand opportunity of going to visit one of my "converted" sisters this summer to actually SEE the play, and, though I won't go into all the details because, knowing me, it would take HOURS, I will say that the person that dies without seeing it has my eternal pity. I still can't talk about going to see it without hyperventilating. It's only been two and a half weeks since I saw it, though, so hopefully within the next year or so I'll be able to tell it in a way that is coherent enough for people to pick out the major points.