Despite never seeing it performed, I have a love for Hamilton: An American Musical that can only be described as obsessive. Fanatical. Compulsive. Enthusiastic. Rabid. All-consuming.
Ok, there are more than a few words for it. There are jokes among friends and co-workers that it’s all I talk about and the three magic words in my world *might* be Lin-Manuel Miranda (Seriously, a co-worker said them yesterday to talk about Moana and my ears perked up.). This extends to the mix tape that just came out yesterday (I’m slightly obsessed with “An Open Letter,” “Congratulations,” “Wait for It,” and “Burn”. I was already in love with early releases “Satisfied” and “It’s Quiet Uptown.” )
I can’t explain any of it, either. I’m not really an American history buff and while I can obsessively research dozens of musical genres, I am woefully uninformed on hip-hip, beyond the standard surface history that I’ve picked up from a lifetime of rock docs. I liked In the Heights, but I didn’t LOVE it. But still, it makes my heart beat a little bit fuller.
So yes, I entered the lottery for all four performances while I was in New York. Each day the time leading up to the close of the lottery was nerve-wracking. “I know it won’t happen, but what if it does?” Sitting in a matinee of Waitress, which is brilliant, didn’t even calm my fears. As the close of the show and lottery approached the announcement that it was against New York state law to use cell phones during Broadway performances was echoing in my ears. “What if I won?! What if the show runs long and I miss the one hour window to buy $10 my ticket?!”
sntk: Ma Rainey, “Prove It On Me”
When I found out that I had a floating holiday that I hard to burn and my last opportunity to use it was Veteran’s Day I decided to use it for a little road trip, even if I did have a trip to New York and Boston on the books for a few days later. I’ve developed a fondness for driving around small southern towns with a good soundtrack and I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity. I discovered the May Rainey house in Columbus after the Mississippi Blues trip this past spring and had big plans of getting there during the summer with the BFF and it never happened, even though Columbus is only about a couple hours away from Atlanta.
As far as I’m concerned if you don’t come home from vacation tired and sore you must be doing something wrong. If I don’t hobble off the plane and limp for a week then I have failed. The game is to get as much stuff crammed into those few days as possible, because it’s all one big scavenger hunt (like that time I spent 3 days driving all over the Mississippi Delta looking for blues landmarks.). I don’t go on vacation to relax and I’m more likely to spend half a day on the sidewalk in front of a music venue to ensure a good spot then I am to spend it sitting on a beach. It’s no surprise then that I have just as much fun compulsively researching a trip as I do actually taking it, because how else am I going to cram ALL THE THINGS into a few days without ALL THE RESEARCH?
“It’s the Vinyl Countdown!”
Go home. It’s over. Charleston’s The Vinyl Countdown has won for best record store ever. There is no contest.
I don’t normally go for the place that gets all of the attention from the food and travel shows, even as much as I love Anthony Bourdain and Adam Richman, because they rarely live up to the hype, but while I was in Charleston with a herd of fellow Butch Walker fans for his show at the Pour House we decided to visit the Hominy Grill for breakfast.
Today I started the serious planning for my trip to New York and Boston in November. You know, the reserving hostels, shopping flights, scoping out the daily itineraries. The fun stuff for compulsive planners like myself.
It’s going to cost more than I would like, between $850 and $1000, depending on how frugally I eat and shop. I ruled out a week in Hawaii with my BFF because it was going to be about that much after all of her travel hook ups and I couldn’t justify the cost. But I’m still going to New York and Boston. Why that over Hawaii? For me, if I don’t come home from a vacation more exhausted then when you left than you’re doing it wrong. I want adventure. I don’t want to sit on a beach. I want to come home with stories.
It occurred to me that this trip is the perfect example of why I’m probably never going to own a house and a picture perfect grown-up life. I would much rather rent a room for my real life and go on adventures instead of paying a mortgage. I know I should probably leave the money in savings, where it sits in my Digit account, or use it to pay off debt (Which I am whittling away at, by the way.).
I’ve always loved playing dress up. As a kid I started planning my Halloween costume in July and it wasn’t unheard of to convince my mom to make me a costume for my birthday party, like a poodle skirt or an outfit just like Jazzie.
As an adult I’ve wanted to get into cosplay, but it’s intimidating, especially when you’re like me and want to get it JUST RIGHT, not to mention expensive. For the most part of stuck to my own style of cosplay, which I describe as being somewhat like how a mom would dress her 8 year old. Instead of accuracy or the sexy version of something, I go for the simplified and child-like version. This has served me well as Red Fraggle and my favorite My Little Pony, Hearthrob. I was planning to go a similar route as Lisa Simpson this year for Dragon Con, the annual fan convention here in Atlanta.
Then I saw Ghostbusters.