A Muslim hipster, a vegetarian drag queen, a good ol' boy from out in the sticks of Randolph County, and a feminist who loves mystery novels all walk into an audition... No, it isn't the beginning of a tedious joke; its exactly the sort of thing that regularly happens when my local community theatre group holds auditions for shows. It's easy to gaze upon your smart phone and feel a bit of discriminating superiority as you read acid-tongued tweets about those "other people" who disagree with your political, social, and religious beliefs. Viral memes which ridicule anyone who could possibly support idiotic candidates or policies are so easy and fun to share. It is now simpler than ever to lump all of those ignorant buffoons together and dismiss them into the category of persons for whom nobody has time. Sometimes I yearn for the pre-social media days when I didn't have to know that the nice lady I just met at the gym was a member of the Facebook group ...
It hasn't been the best week for me. I really thought I had navigated safely through the third baby postpartum stage with a minimum of tears and drama... and then I woke up on Thursday morning and nothing was right. I was slightly feverish, completely tearful... and those "blocked ducts" I had been complaining about were even worse. It also happened to be the day that George was supposed to go back to work. I rang my community midwife to see if she could pay me a visit. After blubbering on the phone to her for several minutes about my milk ducts which I thought had been painfully blocked for over a week, she suggested that I go over to Llandough Hospital to the breast clinic. I agreed to this, then hung up the phone and cried for an hour. (Meanwhile George had gone to register Lili's birth at the Cardiff registrar's office. There was a also a decorator downstairs painting the walls while all of our downstairs furniture sat, piled in disarray in the dining room.) I...
So...here are my thoughts on Glinda. As I prepared myself to step into her shoes again, I read all of the "conspiracy theories" suggesting that Glinda was a power- hungry, manipulating bad witch. I love the theory, but I disagree. Dorothy longs for adventure, to see new places, and to make true friends who understand her. My Glinda knows this, and therefore, sets her on a path to experience all of those things. The Wicked Witch of the West, although frightening, turns out to be an easy-to-defeat foe. (And Glinda is always keeping an eye on things and just a quick bubble trip away should Dorothy and her friends get in over their heads.) Dorothy must learn that she has power of her own and that even the scariest monsters have grave weaknesses. She comes to realize that the truest friends met along life's path may not look the way we expect them to look, but those unlikely companions hold our hands and stick by our sides through the darkest and most uncertain times. L...
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