after dealing with arguably the most annoying aspect of my job (aka unnecessarily whiny clients) this afternoon, i decided before heading back to the conference that i was taking the evening for myself and catching wicked. the musical has been running in chicago for the past two years, apparently; even so, i was able to nab one seat from the box office next door. it was in the second row of the dress section, which isn’t the balcony, but isn’t the floor. it was perfect for me.

so, after catching the afternoon sessions, then heading back to the hotel to release some stress in the brand new gym, i showered and headed over a few blocks east on randolph, straight to my seat in perfect time. the lights lowered, the music began, and i — without warning — felt choked. my entire body was covered in goose bumps and my throat was tight, as i swallowed back tears from the opening music, which was just overwhelmingly inspirational.

i hadn’t prepared myself for this; i love music more than most things in life, but the right music. likewise, i love certain types of musical theatre. i can now add wicked to that list.

i found myself completely enamoured with the story aside from the music itself; i laughed out loud unabashedly to annaleigh ashford’s brilliance, and my stomach moved up a few inches whenever lisa brescia eased into the low notes unexpectedly and with a richness i would like to eat, not to mention her range on the high notes, so unquestioningly pure. these two were the lead witches, and they so obviously carried the entire cast — arguably the only downfall of the performance being that others couldn’t possibly compete — that i found myself crying on the walk home, wishing i could sit around all evening and hear them duet again as the play neared closing.

what a life. really puts things in perspective when i realize how displaced my passion can get when i don’t give myself enough opportunities to fill my soul otherwise.