Tyler's Turn Blog

I finally got around to starting Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. I bought it from Audible a few months ago, but haven't been able to bring myself to actually read it for some reason. However, last week, I was taking a road trip and decided to take only Wicked -- then I'd be forced to read it.

The first few chapters were a chore. Several times I stopped and turned on the radio to see if their might be some talk radio I could listen to instead. Finding nothing but radio evangelists, I plodded on. Elphaba was born, her mother had an affair. Ho-Hum.

And then, all of a sudden, it got interesting. Elphaba went to high school and was assigned to room with Galinda. Dr. Dillamond, her favorite professor and a Goat, was murdered. Elphaba went underground, and joined a resistance movement against the dictatorial Wizard. I was sad when I got home and had to stop reading.

Yesterday, I spent the whole day plugged into my iPod, doing laundry, washing dishes, walking the dogs, and anything else that would allow me to read Wicked. And, today, I can't wait to get off work and walk the dogs, so I can keep reading.

Only problem, I know how the story ends, and I'm going to be very sad when the Wicked Witch of the West melts away and dies, thanks to that deluded girl from Kansas.

The dogs love Fridays, because that's the day we get to walk someplace other than the usual, hum-drum Boston Hill.

Now, don't get me wrong, Boston Hill is a great place to walk, and there are lots of different trails to keep us fairly entertained. However, it's also the closest park to our house, and therefore overused by this human, who's always crunched for time in the morning (I really don't understand morning people).

But Fridays are my day off from the store, so we can easily drive more than the usual five minutes to Boston Hill. Two Fridays ago, we went to an animal preserve about fifteen minutes from our house. It has a stream running through it, and Lexi and Lucia ran and ran, and splashed and splashed. What fun!

When I hear reports of North Korea, I find the descriptions of drab brown and gray cities most depressing. South Korea is one of the most colorful places I've ever lived. My sister and I used to laugh at the colors Koreans would put together -- anything matches, as long as it's bright.

And yet, there are Koreans who live in cities without color. Not only are their bodies starved for food, their spirits must be crushed. It's the only way to explain it.