Well, the crush has (finally) officially landed.
This post comes with a confession: up until yesterday, I had never experienced the true genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda. I held this secret in my heart knowing how much my dear theatre geek friends would cringe if they ever heard it. I felt ashamed.
The reason why is this: I was afraid. Afraid that the moment I had a glimpse, I would be blinded. And that as an eccentric autodidact aesthete with a rudimentary appreciation for Broadway, I would never truly be able to understand the avoirdupois of this man's impact in this universe. All this time, however, I had an intellectual awareness that Lin was a genius. The way you know that Saturn exists, and is very bright and unique and beautiful... but then you stare into a telescope and see it hanging there in the actual sky--it's actually THERE!--and it's a revelation. Lin hit me that way.
I knew his adorability, his pureness, from his appearances on Colbert, Joliver, Corden, and Drunk History. I already named one of my prized orchids after him. But now, I know the profound depths of his talent, thanks to my theatre friends who pushed me into the overflowing pool that is the Lin-love that everyone seems to have. I am actually ANGRY at him for being too precious for this world.
So here I am, watching every tube, vine, vimeo there is starring this perfect PR cherub of awesome, and downloading the Hamilton original cast recording into my old iPod, wishing I could raise a glass of (freedom) coquito with him in his honor.
I leave you with some eye candy. (I mean LOOK at that luscious hair!)
