Thursday, April 25, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
The thing about mediocrity...
is that it is accepted, much like Visa, everywhere in this country.
Last night, I saw Les Misérables, the movie. High production value, large cast, beautifully shot, moderately engaging Les Misérables. For the most part, I understand why everyone is going gaga for it. However, I find myself in a precarious minority that not only did not enjoy the movie, it actually made me angry.
As I said before, the production: sets, costumes, makeup etc., was great, but there was one key area that was missed. The singing. And I do not mean the talent level of the actors, well not all of the actors. To understand this fully, let's talk about why musical productions exist.
Productions centered on music are written that way because the emotions the characters are experiencing can no longer be adequately expressed with speech alone. The music is there to take the intensity up a level, to help the audience feel the angst/joy/sadness/excitement the character is feeling. In the context of the character's world, they are not standing there singing a song, that is just for the audience to perceive; a peek behind the curtain, if you will.
You cannot ignore this fact. You cannot distract from this fact, and by that I mean put acting first and singing second. It is a musical. Not a play. Musical. The music is the defining factor there.
Every good musical production has what is known as a coaching staff. "Coaches" as they are called, are not voice teachers. Voice teachers deal with what is happening inside your head, physically. Placement of the voice, musculature involved in singing, technique, breathing, how the voice works. Coaches deal more with what is coming out of your mouth; fine tuning vowels, making sure you sing all of the right notes, all of the right words, how you phrase lyrics and frankly, to make sure you sound good. Teachers give you the tools; Coaches make sure you are using them correctly.
It is in this latter area that the movie fell apart to those of us with musical knowhow. Starting off with Anne Hathaway...actually, she did exponentially better than the previews lead us to believe. Hats off to her. She sang as though she needed to be singing and used her voice appropriately. Is she the best Fantine I have heard? No. But did she do her job? Absolutely. Eddie, too. The rest of the cast, in this respect, did not.
Throughout the movie the actors were disengaged when they began singing. It looked as though someone came over a loud speaker somewhere and said "Please, sing about how you're feeling. Your invisible orchestra is behind you. Go." On top of that, all of the big chorus scenes were muted, underscored. Paired with the decision to allow more than a few lines that were supposed to be sung to be spoken...multiple eyebrows were raised. Again, musical.
The biggest question is: Where was the music staff to say,
"Hugh, you're starting sound nasal and strained. Relax, add some warmth to your sound. Take a low breath and start again, not so far forward.";
"Amanda, take a nice big breath and really sing. Sing more than you think you need to, it will help even everything out.";
"Samantha, you nailed this in the live 25th Anniversary Concert, just sing it that way again." (No really though, listen to this.);
"Russell, you sing the end of your suicide scene well, let's focus on reproducing that sound."?
And then to ask the entire cast (except Anne and Eddie), "Why are you singing this? What prompted you to sing this instead of just speaking it? Do not say why, show why. Show them why you're singing." Also, as much as it sucks to hear, "This does not sound good. What do you need from us to make you more comfortable with the material?" A rehearsal of mine was stopped once to address my inability to keep up with Mozart. It was the first day of rehearsal and I was almost fired on the spot because my recitative wasn't smooth enough and I have a Master's degree in this stuff. It goes to show that sometimes you just need to be told what's up. "Yes Men" get you nowhere. Trust me.
If it were my movie, I would have called a production meeting promptly upon noticing that 'Lead Whore' and 'Unnamed Solider' were the strongest cast members. Honestly, the supporting cast sang the leading cast under the table. Aaron Tveit, the revolutionaries, the soldier who orders the cannon attacks on the revolutionaries (best voice in the movie); the prostitutes, factory workers and slaves all kill it through the movie. Why? Because they are theatre people.
Before I wrap it up, let us address Russell Crowe and Eddie Redmayne for a second. Russell, obviously not the most skilled singer, but there is a voice there, he just needs help using it. Again, where was the help? Other than being a mediocre singer, he looks terribly uncomfortable while singing. Comfort is a difficult thing to accomplish that only comes from practice. With Redmayne, Empty Chairs was great and a wonderful example of "singing because he needs to." Although he has a pretty voice and of the main cast, was my favorite voice; he has so much tension while singing that he shakes. His jaw and his head wobble so noticeably while singing that the camera is barely on him 5 seconds before changing angles. Again, where were the teachers or coaches? Director? You have a 20ft-wide head on a theatre screen that is shaking to produce sound, you should probably, and definitely can, fix that.
There was a time when we as a people, not just me or my friends, other musicians, music nerds etc., but the majority of the population recognized the difference between Paul Potts and Pavarotti, Susan Boyle and Patti Lupone, Jackie Evancho and Renee Fleming. It's not snotty to know the difference between good and excellent, run-of-the-mill and exceptional. This movie was not exceptional. In the real music world, you do not get a trophy for participation; this is not little league. You must deliver or be replaced. I am eager to get back to that, if we can.
Last night, I saw Les Misérables, the movie. High production value, large cast, beautifully shot, moderately engaging Les Misérables. For the most part, I understand why everyone is going gaga for it. However, I find myself in a precarious minority that not only did not enjoy the movie, it actually made me angry.
As I said before, the production: sets, costumes, makeup etc., was great, but there was one key area that was missed. The singing. And I do not mean the talent level of the actors, well not all of the actors. To understand this fully, let's talk about why musical productions exist.
Productions centered on music are written that way because the emotions the characters are experiencing can no longer be adequately expressed with speech alone. The music is there to take the intensity up a level, to help the audience feel the angst/joy/sadness/excitement the character is feeling. In the context of the character's world, they are not standing there singing a song, that is just for the audience to perceive; a peek behind the curtain, if you will.
You cannot ignore this fact. You cannot distract from this fact, and by that I mean put acting first and singing second. It is a musical. Not a play. Musical. The music is the defining factor there.
Every good musical production has what is known as a coaching staff. "Coaches" as they are called, are not voice teachers. Voice teachers deal with what is happening inside your head, physically. Placement of the voice, musculature involved in singing, technique, breathing, how the voice works. Coaches deal more with what is coming out of your mouth; fine tuning vowels, making sure you sing all of the right notes, all of the right words, how you phrase lyrics and frankly, to make sure you sound good. Teachers give you the tools; Coaches make sure you are using them correctly.
It is in this latter area that the movie fell apart to those of us with musical knowhow. Starting off with Anne Hathaway...actually, she did exponentially better than the previews lead us to believe. Hats off to her. She sang as though she needed to be singing and used her voice appropriately. Is she the best Fantine I have heard? No. But did she do her job? Absolutely. Eddie, too. The rest of the cast, in this respect, did not.
Throughout the movie the actors were disengaged when they began singing. It looked as though someone came over a loud speaker somewhere and said "Please, sing about how you're feeling. Your invisible orchestra is behind you. Go." On top of that, all of the big chorus scenes were muted, underscored. Paired with the decision to allow more than a few lines that were supposed to be sung to be spoken...multiple eyebrows were raised. Again, musical.
The biggest question is: Where was the music staff to say,
"Hugh, you're starting sound nasal and strained. Relax, add some warmth to your sound. Take a low breath and start again, not so far forward.";
"Amanda, take a nice big breath and really sing. Sing more than you think you need to, it will help even everything out.";
"Samantha, you nailed this in the live 25th Anniversary Concert, just sing it that way again." (No really though, listen to this.);
"Russell, you sing the end of your suicide scene well, let's focus on reproducing that sound."?
And then to ask the entire cast (except Anne and Eddie), "Why are you singing this? What prompted you to sing this instead of just speaking it? Do not say why, show why. Show them why you're singing." Also, as much as it sucks to hear, "This does not sound good. What do you need from us to make you more comfortable with the material?" A rehearsal of mine was stopped once to address my inability to keep up with Mozart. It was the first day of rehearsal and I was almost fired on the spot because my recitative wasn't smooth enough and I have a Master's degree in this stuff. It goes to show that sometimes you just need to be told what's up. "Yes Men" get you nowhere. Trust me.
If it were my movie, I would have called a production meeting promptly upon noticing that 'Lead Whore' and 'Unnamed Solider' were the strongest cast members. Honestly, the supporting cast sang the leading cast under the table. Aaron Tveit, the revolutionaries, the soldier who orders the cannon attacks on the revolutionaries (best voice in the movie); the prostitutes, factory workers and slaves all kill it through the movie. Why? Because they are theatre people.
Before I wrap it up, let us address Russell Crowe and Eddie Redmayne for a second. Russell, obviously not the most skilled singer, but there is a voice there, he just needs help using it. Again, where was the help? Other than being a mediocre singer, he looks terribly uncomfortable while singing. Comfort is a difficult thing to accomplish that only comes from practice. With Redmayne, Empty Chairs was great and a wonderful example of "singing because he needs to." Although he has a pretty voice and of the main cast, was my favorite voice; he has so much tension while singing that he shakes. His jaw and his head wobble so noticeably while singing that the camera is barely on him 5 seconds before changing angles. Again, where were the teachers or coaches? Director? You have a 20ft-wide head on a theatre screen that is shaking to produce sound, you should probably, and definitely can, fix that.
There was a time when we as a people, not just me or my friends, other musicians, music nerds etc., but the majority of the population recognized the difference between Paul Potts and Pavarotti, Susan Boyle and Patti Lupone, Jackie Evancho and Renee Fleming. It's not snotty to know the difference between good and excellent, run-of-the-mill and exceptional. This movie was not exceptional. In the real music world, you do not get a trophy for participation; this is not little league. You must deliver or be replaced. I am eager to get back to that, if we can.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
I like the gym...
Dear World,
I have gone to the gym everyday since Friday, September 21st. That might not sound like a lot, given it is the 27th but for me that is huge. I hate the gym. I hate exercising. I hate sweating. I hate working hard. So what got me to go for a week? (I have to miss tonight, but will be going Saturday morning to pick up the slack...it's a work thing, I can't help it.)
Crossfit.
It's this crazy, intense form of weightlifting that gets you looking like this:
Ladies! You can play too!
Seriously. This what these people at my gym look like. And here is the weird part:
I FREAKIN' LOVE IT.
The workouts are about an hour long, include a warm up, a strength exercise and then a kill-yourself-to-get-all-this-shit-accomplished-in-15-minutes portion.
There are pullups, row machines, multiple 400 meter runs, mid air situps, pushups, squats, deadlifts, snatches (tee-hee), kettleball swings, throwing shit, lifting shit, swinging on shit. It's ridiculously fun.
If you want to get in some other shape than the one you're currently in, I cannot recommend it enough AND if you're in the Chicagoland area my gym is called Hardware Crossfit and they are awesome. Here is what my coach looks like:
I have gone to the gym everyday since Friday, September 21st. That might not sound like a lot, given it is the 27th but for me that is huge. I hate the gym. I hate exercising. I hate sweating. I hate working hard. So what got me to go for a week? (I have to miss tonight, but will be going Saturday morning to pick up the slack...it's a work thing, I can't help it.)
Crossfit.
It's this crazy, intense form of weightlifting that gets you looking like this:
Ladies! You can play too!
Seriously. This what these people at my gym look like. And here is the weird part:
I FREAKIN' LOVE IT.
The workouts are about an hour long, include a warm up, a strength exercise and then a kill-yourself-to-get-all-this-shit-accomplished-in-15-minutes portion.
There are pullups, row machines, multiple 400 meter runs, mid air situps, pushups, squats, deadlifts, snatches (tee-hee), kettleball swings, throwing shit, lifting shit, swinging on shit. It's ridiculously fun.
If you want to get in some other shape than the one you're currently in, I cannot recommend it enough AND if you're in the Chicagoland area my gym is called Hardware Crossfit and they are awesome. Here is what my coach looks like:
BEAST.
...but REALLY cool.
That's the other thing. Everyone is extremely supportive. If you're struggling, all of a sudden the rest of the group is cheering you on. Can't figure out how to jump and spread your feet apart while holding 115lbs just under your chin while you flip your elbows under the bar? They pull you aside and help you learn; step by step. They want you to succeed, to do well and make you feel/look awesome.
I want to go back right now. This won't become a fitness blog, but just know that this is what I'm doing and I'm trying to get myself a 6-pak for Christmas. We'll see how that goes...
COMING SOON:
...gross.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
LAUNDRY! ...or not.
I HAVE SO MUCH LAUNDRY TO DO.
I was going to do it...
but then this happened...
.JPG)
[i have a beard]
.JPG)
[it itches...a lot]
.JPG)
[hey...hey there guy]
.JPG)
[create sideburn]
.JPG)
[now we're just off topic]
.JPG)
[i have a tigerbeard]
.JPG)
[i have a bikertigerbeard]
.JPG)
[i will drive a truck...into your heart]
.JPG)
[just missing a beret, a crepe and a concertina]
.JPG)
[kip from napoleon dynamite]
.JPG)
[looks like a nose shadow]
.JPG)
[all showered and clean]
*UPDATE*
...still no clothes to wear to work tomorrow.
Why do you talk so loud...ly?
* WARNING *
This is a whiney post with swearing. A lot of it...both whining and swearing.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Last night a good friend und ich went to a Cubs game.
Yes. I got a helmet of nachos. Yes, there are pictures.
Once beers were purchased and seats were found, friend Sarah (pictured above with said nacho helmet) started in on a conversation, periodically checking in on what was a rather slow game vs. the Reds.
A few moments into the game, our relatively vacant section began filling up with folks from the nosebleeds, which is fine. I understand. You see empty seats, you move on down. Nbd. Right?
"I was talkin to this bitch about the fuckin rager we were at last weekend bro because I thought maybe she was gonna suck my dick...'nahm sayin' bro? I love when them bitches suck this dick...fuckin crazy bro"
...said the white kid LOUDLY in a Fubu hoodie.
Now. I believe in freedom of speech. By all means, please talk at length about the bitches sucking "this dick"...as if it needed its own denotation; context clues buddy. Let's be a little cognizant of our surroundings.
Yes. You are at a Cubs game. Yes. It is a night game. Yes. You've had 2 beers. No. No one else cares about what you have to say about anything because guess what? We are also at a Cubs game. We are also enjoying the fall night. We have also had 2 beers. But we are not here for you, so as my friend Dani used to say, shut the FUCK up.
However, to review: it's a night game, in fall with nachos and beer...not the time or place for me to get hostile. So instead, like a good Midwesterner, I gave him the Ellen Degeneres Movie Theatre Talker treatment. Not familiar? Check it out...skip the part about popcorn, even though given the nacho situation, it's relevant.
Ellen's Movie Etiquette
It actually kind of worked, they moved after a while. But where do people learn, especially in their 20's and 30's, that talking that loudly is appropriate in any circumstance, especially about getting your d s-ed. Did I mention there were kids in our section?
The thing that gets me is that even though he may have started unaware that he was practically shouting, after people started looking at him, he got louder. I'm not sure if it's because he thought we were actually interested in his story or he got louder out of protest, I don't care.
Why do people do that? When did people begin thinking that they were either so important or impressive that everyone wants to hear what they have to say? I don't get it. Fuck. Off. If your stories are that good, start a blog.
Drives me nuts. I'll come back later with a story about a woman in Target whose daughter spit on her. Oooh lordy, that's a good one.
BE RESPECTFUL in public...in a bar? Go nuts.
BONUS: For all you Parks and Recreation lovers out there, check our Rashida Jones' new spread in Flaunt magazine:
Rashida Jones is bangin'.
Monday, September 17, 2012
White lies and white jeans...
So I've got this amazing habit...or bad habit...I think it's a habit. I'm not really sure. Whatever. Go.
When I get drunk, I lie. I tell the most creative, enlightening back stories that people ask me about the next day and I stare blankly into the distance and smile. Now they're not big lies and rarely about other people. To demonstrate, we'll play a game.
Two Truths and a Lie: Birthday Edition.
1) It was my birthday over the weekend and I had a blast!
2) Having a delayed-by-24-hours hangover is a horrible way to start a work week.
3) I am a swinger with my friend Hallie and we go to bars to pick up other couples for loving.
Any guesses?
Spoiler alert: 1 and 2 are absolutely true and 3 is the lie I told on Saturday night.
Why? I have no idea. Probably because I saw an old pal the night before and we used to use that one as well. You really get to know people when you present yourself that way. Think of it like those old Vegas commercials with the ladies in the bathrooms exchanging wigs. Know the one?
So here's why that's not always awesome:
Some people HATE swingers. Usually, I go with accountant who hobbies as a taxidermist. Folks don't ask too many questions about that one...or they ask A LOT of questions about that one. I'm fine either way.
Well on Saturday, a guy got very upset that we were "perverts." Woah woah woah there judgy. What if that wasn't a lie...that is such a common practice that when you Google "swinging," the childhood activity isn't even mentioned in the first few results. All adult themed:
However, McJudgerson turned into McShittypants real quick. He kept following us around trying to get us to leave the bar because of it. Even when we told him it was all BS he then got mad us for lying to him. What? Then he got confused as to why he was mad and starting splitting his story between us being sick and us being assholes. Which I'll give him assholes, we are. But I could not believe how he would not let it go.
Needless to say I did not care for him and we probably should have just left the bar but it was my birthday weekend and I wasn't doing anything anybody else wanted me to do. My time, my friends, my weekend. We ended up staying until the bar closed...but guess who was outside in the cab line! Nailed it. That guy.
The night gets a little hazy from there but we should probably find out how we got there in the first place, eh?
Friday night:
Birthday party at the Bar Celona, my favorite bar. Best part? Denim themed. And people showed up in some INSANE outfits (Buckles). We were so awesome that the bar picked up a lot, and I mean A LOT of the tab. So big shout out to them. Thank you!
.JPG)
.JPG)
Note: Even the guys in the background had denim on. We took over the place.
.JPG)
To make it easier and to go as a smaller group into the big group, I had some people meet me at my place then walk over...but instead of Happy Birthday, somehow The Phantom of the Opera got sung. So well, in fact, my neighbors clapped when were done...from next door. Not a joke.
The Phantom of the Opera
It was like that only ours was 1000x better...obviously. We had just shotgunned some Miller Lites. Roommate Meredith sang the super high ending, without warming up and killed it.
My friends told me that after arriving I didn't stop smiling the whole night. I believe it. I have great friends.
Jump to Saturday morning with random people scattered about my apartment.
We went to the kickass Chipotle Cultivate Festival in Lincoln Park...kind of expensive, but well worth it! We had a great afternoon of food and beer. This dog fell in love with me. Seriously, someone has pictures of us spooning. (Note: Not my dog.)
.JPG)
I, in typical MC fashion, made some friends along the way that day. I didn't get any pictures with them, but they'll show up later.
We head back to my place to snatch the rest of the stragglers who couldn't deal with the schedule of the day, watched a movie and grabbed dinner at the finest Thai restaurant Lakeview East has to offer:
Joy's Noodles and Rice
This is where our new friends come to meet us...Nick, Evan and Oliver. Delightful chaps. Nick if you ever read this, sorry I kept calling you a hippie and telling you to pull your pants up...but come on man, no lower than than the hips.
Back to the Bar Celona! Fish bowls! Shots! Drinks! Free drinks! Expensive drinks! WE DRINK ALL THE DRINKS.
Then...they...close at 2am?
I always forget that part and upon seeing our sour demeanor, the staff invites us to go with them to another bar. It's a fun place called Stout and wouldn't you know it, we walk in and meet this lovely looking couple waiting in line for a drink...
Sunday. Ouch. O'Hare airport. Parents house. Nap. Dinner. Ouch. To go plate. Win. Home to bed.
Monday. Up at 5:30. Still ouch. Awful work day...but come home to this:
.JPG)
GREAT. WEEKEND.
When I get drunk, I lie. I tell the most creative, enlightening back stories that people ask me about the next day and I stare blankly into the distance and smile. Now they're not big lies and rarely about other people. To demonstrate, we'll play a game.
Two Truths and a Lie: Birthday Edition.
1) It was my birthday over the weekend and I had a blast!
2) Having a delayed-by-24-hours hangover is a horrible way to start a work week.
3) I am a swinger with my friend Hallie and we go to bars to pick up other couples for loving.
Any guesses?
Spoiler alert: 1 and 2 are absolutely true and 3 is the lie I told on Saturday night.
Why? I have no idea. Probably because I saw an old pal the night before and we used to use that one as well. You really get to know people when you present yourself that way. Think of it like those old Vegas commercials with the ladies in the bathrooms exchanging wigs. Know the one?
So here's why that's not always awesome:
Some people HATE swingers. Usually, I go with accountant who hobbies as a taxidermist. Folks don't ask too many questions about that one...or they ask A LOT of questions about that one. I'm fine either way.
Well on Saturday, a guy got very upset that we were "perverts." Woah woah woah there judgy. What if that wasn't a lie...that is such a common practice that when you Google "swinging," the childhood activity isn't even mentioned in the first few results. All adult themed:
However, McJudgerson turned into McShittypants real quick. He kept following us around trying to get us to leave the bar because of it. Even when we told him it was all BS he then got mad us for lying to him. What? Then he got confused as to why he was mad and starting splitting his story between us being sick and us being assholes. Which I'll give him assholes, we are. But I could not believe how he would not let it go.
Needless to say I did not care for him and we probably should have just left the bar but it was my birthday weekend and I wasn't doing anything anybody else wanted me to do. My time, my friends, my weekend. We ended up staying until the bar closed...but guess who was outside in the cab line! Nailed it. That guy.
The night gets a little hazy from there but we should probably find out how we got there in the first place, eh?
Friday night:
Birthday party at the Bar Celona, my favorite bar. Best part? Denim themed. And people showed up in some INSANE outfits (Buckles). We were so awesome that the bar picked up a lot, and I mean A LOT of the tab. So big shout out to them. Thank you!
.JPG)
.JPG)
Note: Even the guys in the background had denim on. We took over the place.
.JPG)
To make it easier and to go as a smaller group into the big group, I had some people meet me at my place then walk over...but instead of Happy Birthday, somehow The Phantom of the Opera got sung. So well, in fact, my neighbors clapped when were done...from next door. Not a joke.
The Phantom of the Opera
It was like that only ours was 1000x better...obviously. We had just shotgunned some Miller Lites. Roommate Meredith sang the super high ending, without warming up and killed it.
My friends told me that after arriving I didn't stop smiling the whole night. I believe it. I have great friends.
Jump to Saturday morning with random people scattered about my apartment.
We went to the kickass Chipotle Cultivate Festival in Lincoln Park...kind of expensive, but well worth it! We had a great afternoon of food and beer. This dog fell in love with me. Seriously, someone has pictures of us spooning. (Note: Not my dog.)
.JPG)
I, in typical MC fashion, made some friends along the way that day. I didn't get any pictures with them, but they'll show up later.
We head back to my place to snatch the rest of the stragglers who couldn't deal with the schedule of the day, watched a movie and grabbed dinner at the finest Thai restaurant Lakeview East has to offer:
Joy's Noodles and Rice
This is where our new friends come to meet us...Nick, Evan and Oliver. Delightful chaps. Nick if you ever read this, sorry I kept calling you a hippie and telling you to pull your pants up...but come on man, no lower than than the hips.
Back to the Bar Celona! Fish bowls! Shots! Drinks! Free drinks! Expensive drinks! WE DRINK ALL THE DRINKS.
Then...they...close at 2am?
I always forget that part and upon seeing our sour demeanor, the staff invites us to go with them to another bar. It's a fun place called Stout and wouldn't you know it, we walk in and meet this lovely looking couple waiting in line for a drink...
Sunday. Ouch. O'Hare airport. Parents house. Nap. Dinner. Ouch. To go plate. Win. Home to bed.
Monday. Up at 5:30. Still ouch. Awful work day...but come home to this:
.JPG)
GREAT. WEEKEND.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
New job = boozey swoozey.
Good morning!
Wait.
What is that?
OH! It's a hangover. Happy Thursday! But, you may be asking, "How did you acquire said hangover?" Let's jump right in with a new segment I call: My Night in GIFs!
So, I got a new job last night working in event management. Yay me!
I was a little nervous about the informal interview, but I knew both of the folks with whom I was meeting and it was at a bar. Still, the cab ride was tense.
I arrive at the bar and start right in. Nailing the questions left and right. Killing it really. MK style.
So naturally, we start drinking. Slowly at first, but then rapidly.
At this point, I start thinking about going home. I wake up very early for work. I'm a good employee at my current firm.
But there were Asians.
No thank you. They'd make us look afool. So we went to the patio to drink more. And more. And more. And made friends.
Just like this:
But then we time travelled to 11pm. Way past the point where I Cinderella's carriage the shit out of life.
Wait.
What is that?
OH! It's a hangover. Happy Thursday! But, you may be asking, "How did you acquire said hangover?" Let's jump right in with a new segment I call: My Night in GIFs!
So, I got a new job last night working in event management. Yay me!
I was a little nervous about the informal interview, but I knew both of the folks with whom I was meeting and it was at a bar. Still, the cab ride was tense.
I arrive at the bar and start right in. Nailing the questions left and right. Killing it really. MK style.
So naturally, we start drinking. Slowly at first, but then rapidly.
At this point, I start thinking about going home. I wake up very early for work. I'm a good employee at my current firm.
However. I'm me. So of course we go to another bar to...
wait for it...
...play ping pong.
No thank you. They'd make us look afool. So we went to the patio to drink more. And more. And more. And made friends.
Just like this:
(I'm on the left.)
But then we time travelled to 11pm. Way past the point where I Cinderella's carriage the shit out of life.
(Not a .gif, but still awesome)
It. Is. Time. To. Go. Home. Leave like a baller.
Alarm goes off at 5am. Snooze. 5:15. Snooze. 5:25. I broke my alarm clock (Sorry, Hallie, now the numbers don't work). 5:35. Contemplate throwing the iPhone. 6:00am. Shit pants because I'm now going to be late.
Now I'm at work. And I look like this:
Only gotta make it until 3:00pm THEN I GO TO SLEEP AND IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WHEN I WAKE UP AND EVERYTHING IS AWESOME.
Exeunt.
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