Lin Manuel Miranda being a huge nerd in the LMTWGR Making of video
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Lin Manuel Miranda being a huge nerd in the LMTWGR Making of video
TEXT MESSAGE → LAMS
ALEX: [ sad emoji ]
ALEX: i miss you
-- Okay, I know I talk a big game about knocking nearly everything I do out of the ballpark (which still rings true, for those of you who still have your heads up your asses), but. I think I'm a little lost on this one. In an attempt to get some wedding planning crossed off the list, just to settle my mind during some downtime, I ended up at a bakery off of 65th. And I told them as much as they needed to know in order to get a feel of what kind of things I could look for and expect on a wedding cake, and the draft price they gave me was well over $300? They were almost offended when I up and left, acting like I've done them some kind of disservice when they're trying to swindle me into blowing my money on a fucking cake. A cake.
Is this the world we live in? Is this 2016 at it's finest?
you’re yelling? at ME? the one person who has never done anything wrong ever?????
I dare to say a couple more things than just inspirational people line up for the two of us, but maybe that’s just me. – Aren’t you a sweetheart. I am glad to know that if I ever need something to refresh our paper with, I can definitely find something in your so-called portfolio. I am always happy about your excitement for writing, even if I get a small skip of a heartbeat when you talk about freelancing. One day you will leave the office and I will kiss your head wishing you the best of luck, but I know I will never be ready for that.
Great minds think alike, yeah? That's how the saying goes. Doesn't surprise me that we make the grade when it comes to cliched tropes. I dunno if doing extra work makes me a sweetheart, but it does mean I've got stuff on hand at all times, ready to toss over for replacing excess fluff that seems unnecessary. Not that anyone at this paper would produce such content, but. You know. Thomas has off days more often than his on ones. You can never be too sure, too careful. -- Don't kiss me on the forehead, please.
–Alexander Hamilton, if you are trying to hurt my feelings, you have succeeded. Slightly. Of course I know the world isn’t rolling out the red carpet (although it the world had any sense it would every time I stepped out of a cab). I live in a world where I am important, and everyone should treat it as such. It’s called having high-self esteem.
Wrong. I work very hard in my office making sure articles and columns are written and sent out for publication according to the deadlines I set. They love the work they do, and I haven’t heard any complaints outside of what you did on a daily basis. So get off your high horse and accept the fact I’m successful at what I do, and I’m just as good if not better than Washington.
I'm not trying to do anything. I'm just dropping truth bombs. Enlightening your overly swelled mind, as it were. Because you lack a lot of things, common sense being one of them, and I'm hoping that the mere act of repetition will pound some manners into your tightly wound brain. You can think the world of yourself without forcing everyone to kiss your feet as you walk by, fam. Expectations are fine, but your issue lies in the fact that you immediately cast out anyone who doesn't adhere to your ridiculous standards that you make in your head. See the issue?
You can think you're as successful as you want, but. The facts don't lie. Neither do reports. On a scale of publications in the city, The Hurricane out grosses The King's Speech. Dunno how else I can say it without callin' up the New York Times and getting a statement myself.
Lin-Manuel Miranda
linmiranda.com you’re killin us here
Oh, thank you. Yeah, sorta like. Anyway, thank you, I appreciate it. My job can seem a little thankless at times, so it’s nice to hear. Yeah, I read that Ted Cruz got booed? And that people are voting Trump just because they wanted Bernie? People can be so cynical sometimes, it sucks. Especially with politics. I’m just believing Hillary will win, because I can’t picture America otherwise. Like, I just don’t know what to think. And you have to write about all this scary stuff. Me admirable? No way, what you’re do is way harder and way more important. I think one day at your job would leave me emotionally spent for like, a decade. Pandora’s the best. I know Spotify is trendier, but Pandora just does the trick. Wait, you’ve never been to a concert? You must be lying. Okay, I can’t swing Beyonce, but I’m going to talk to John and this is going to happen. Especially if you aren’t kidding about the whole not-going-to-concerts-thing.
Not a problem, Peggy. Trust me. It doesn't surprise me that you're surrounded by people who don't wanna give you credit for the hard work you do -- reminds me of my first job in the city -- but. You'll learn to cope. It doesn't sound too great, but it'll be all right. -- Hah! Yeah. He did. 'Cause he didn't endorse The Donald. And some crazy shit happened at the DNC, and nearly half of it wasn't even televised -- keeping Bernie protesters out, taking away their signs to give them something Hillary related. I don't dislike the woman, and I'll be voting for her when the polls open in November, but I don't blame half the nation for choosing third party options over our two Big Choices. We're kinda screwed either way. It's a constant headache. Meh, it's like comparing apples and oranges. They can both be taxing and demanding without one of us doing more than the other. It's just two different things, that's all. -- Hey! I'm being serious, all right? It's just.. never been a thing, I guess. Never been a priority. Plus, I never had the money to spend on tickets, so. I just did other stuff instead. Plus, it seems kinda crowded? Like, being in the middle of a huge mass of people is almost my worst nightmare. Almost.
I’m giving you room to breath Alex. But we’ve talked about this. Sometimes you’re profanity can be a bit…excessive and if you’re going to come in and be my class storyteller next year, we’ve got to keep it in check. We also, agreed on the swear jar so you’re stuck. No, I think they’re rather adorable myself and goodness, you are too kind. I will be happy to take him up on that offer.
... I mean. I can keep it together around kids. For the most part. And if any of them start using 'sentence enhancers' in their every day life, then I'll give you more than enough for three swear jars, and we'll call it even. In my own house, though, and on my own blog, monitoring my freedom of speech impedes my first amendment rights. Don't be that person, Eliza. Don't you dare. Perfect! Two of my favorite people in the same place bonding over technology. This is a true sign that we live in 2016, if you ask me.
I think she’s out there playing and when she bumps into other players, she tries to educate them on the importance of exercise. But not bluntly, no. She uses like Pokemon code or something.
Wish I would have known that, but next check. I’ll buy it, you’ll bring the food and I’ll provide the wine, we’ll make a game night of it. Ah yes, watch as Maria and Alex journey back through the 90s and late 80s to relive the most magical moments in time. The lost childhoods, coming to you this fall on NBC.
... I'm now filled with the image of Michelle Obama standing on a street corner trying to catch a Jigglypuff, and it's giving me so much joy. Bless you for this. Bless you.
You don't know how down for this I am. Fuckin' game night sounds like the best thing I can invest my time into once a week, and I'm actually surprised at how hype I'm getting just thinking about this right now. -- Listen. If I'm gonna educate myself, I don't wanna do it alone. Especially if I don't have to be, yeah? Less room for me to look like a fool. It's purely selfish intentions on my part.
Wrong! The world will be awaiting my return, trying to decide how to greet me once I show this handsome face of mine. YOU don’t read my paper for political news doesn’t mean the rest of the world doesn’t read it. Really? You’re editor-in-chief of The King’s Speech now, because if you are then I need to just sit at home and collect my paycheck from now on.
What kinda world do you live in where you think everyone on this planet would care if you were gone? This is something you've really gotta hammer into your brain, Georgie -- the universe doesn't give a shit about you. The same can be said for me, too. For anyone. The sooner you wrap your pea sized brain around that very simple logic, the better. -- Isn't what what you do, anyways? Sit at home and collect a paycheck while your underpaid workers do all your shit for you? Poorly, I might add. (And if the rest of the city read your publication, you'd have better revenue scores. Kinda breaks your 'I don't give a fuck' stance when I'm supported by actual facts.)
I thought you found this hilarious? Sending people your way should be far from a threat to you then, shouldn’t it? – It was wonderful. Also actually rather on the pathetic side. I half expected him to wear uggs and adapt a valley accent as well while he was at it. … fine. I guess if I’ve ever got the good gossip to drag George all the way back to England, you won’t know about it.
I said it was a vague threat. I'm not annoyed at the idea. I just fail to see the logic when the circumstances that make it hysterical to your unique situation don't work for my situation. It's a simple case of facts, Jefferson. -- I'd pay money to see that. I don't think he'd ever (unless he would, which in that case, December should be interesting), but the image alone is enough to make me laugh for at least twenty minutes. There's a difference between good gossip and just plain voyeurism, fam. You're toeing a very sensitive line.
Well, if I ever turn it into a daily thing, it wouldn’t be much of who has died, but rather a share of something that motivates me, one way or another and maybe somebody else would find motivation in that as well. I have seen your e-mails, thank you. Neat and well worded, as always. I am impressed… as always. And you know you can give me anything, I will always look over it when I have time. I’m sure I’ll find something to fill the paper with in case some parts were missing.
Hey -- I'll take your word for it. Our taste in inspirational people tend to line up most of the time, alive or dead, so. Could be a good way to rally the troops, as it were. -- Perfect. Not that I think anything would be missing, of course, but. Y'know. Just in case. I've always got too much time on my hands and too much stuff I wanna expand on. Figured I'd give you the chance to look it over before I turn towards freelance.
When's the wedding?
Soon enough. We haven’t sat down and made a date, or anything, just ‘cause we’re not in a hurry. We’ve waited six years to be together, so there’s no -- pressure, I should say, to get this done overnight. Don’t worry, though. It’ll be here before you know it.
Okay. Call him stereotypical, but John loved this shit.
By the time they dated for a week, John already knew what their house was going to look like. He already planned out the colors, planned out the decorations, the feel of it all. Of course, it was going to be their house that they built together, that they were supposed to make a home together. But, truthfully? John knew Alex wouldn’t care, as long as he was happy and the house didn’t look… horrible. Which, it wouldn’t. At least not with John’s eye for this kind of stuff. But when it came to their wedding? He had no clue. Ultimately, he wanted this wedding to be everything that Alex wanted. Deep down, he knew that Alex didn’t care as long as it was the two of them hand in hand during the ceremony, but after everything they’d been through? After everything John had put them through? He deserved everything. He deserved the world. He deserved the fairytale.
Of course, Alex’s words brought him out of his head quickly, thankfully. John didn’t want to know how bad the guilt would swallow him up if he kept thinking about it. Taking a deep breath, he smiled widely, reveling in the smile that Alex had on his own lips. John leans down, brushing a small kiss on the top of his head before placing the magazine next to him. “I mean, I’m sure we could get him to do the majority of it. As long as he gets a toast.” John said, a laugh coming out at his next words– and then immediately being caught at the feeling of his nose against his jaw and the words that followed.
John let his now free arm wrap around his waist, meeting the other as they clasped together. “I’m sure that’s all you want and will be thinking about, knowing you. I can’t promise I’d be thinking any differently.” He replied, a grin wide against his lips.
"A speech?" He sighs, head falling back dramatically as he does so. "The guy already stalks us, babe. He literally snuck into our offices to turn them into pride floats. Plus! He's a shit head who's had nothing good to say about me in four years outside of our relationship," he pauses, pressing a hand to John's chest. "He's a menace. And you wanna let him talk about us on what's gonna be the most important day our lives?" His lips pout softly, eyes wide as he does so. "I thought you loved me." He's teasing, of course, his smile cracking a moment later as he leans up. "If it's gonna happen, make sure I'm drunk when he goes on. That way, I can tune out of whatever bullshit he's gonna make up on the spot. And if he tries to wax poetic about our years of fake ass friendship, I'm kicking his ass to the curb. High key. No refunds, no exceptions." He relaxes when John's arms wrap around him completely, his eyes soft as he turns. His legs curl up, settling as he bends at the knee, and his head moves to duck onto John's shoulder, his own arms falling into his laps as fingertips trace the thin material of John's tank top. His words cause is stomach to flip, his lips quirked into a smirk as he does so. "Can you blame me?" He asks, brows raised as his head tilts back, their eyes meeting in a warm, familiar gaze. "You're gonna look fine as hell. You already look nice when you get all dressed up and shit, but knowing that you're dressed up for me? That I'm gonna be kissing my husband for the first time?" He pauses, lips rubbing together as warmth blooms in the pit of his stomach. "Just try to ask me to contain myself. I already know I won't be able to, and whatever happens in that car ride to the reception is not my fault, but -- merely -- an act of fate. And little to no self restraint." Chuckling, he leans up, pressing a kiss at the corner of John's chin with a dream-like sigh. "I still can't believe we're getting married. It's actually happening." His eyes drop to his hand, again, eyeing the ring with the same sense of joy he gets upon remembering just how lucky he is to have him. How lucky he is that John loves him so completely, so deeply, so wholly. "I love you," he adds, apropos of nothing.