Who's Les? And why is he miserable?

It's no secret that I am a pretty unashamed musical theatre fag. I mean, I'm planning a trip to New York pretty much for the sole purpose of seeing as many broadway shows as is medically possible, so, you know, when it comes to musicals, "obsession" is putting it mildly.

And one of the first live shows I ever saw (certainly the most dramatic, bar one particularly scarring version of Jesus Christ Superstar I still remember from a Newcastle Amateur Dramatics society that may or may not be responsible for my current atheism), was, like most blossoming young theatre queens, was Les Miserables. It's such a solid, resonating show that the memories of that first performance stick with me to this day, and in no small part shaped me into the tragic musical aficionado I am today.

So, long story short (that ship probably sailed a paragraph back), I was pretty excited for the movie. Which I saw at an advanced screening yesterday, and thoroughly enjoyed. It was amazing. Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman absolutely nailed the show, the cinematography was fabulous, and the score was as amazing as always (apart from several songs being in the wrong spot, which just made me feel like I'd set my iPod playlist to shuffle by mistake). And over the coming months, a lot will probably be written about all the positives of Les Miz, as it's a movie that had a lot going for it. But I'm sorry, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't have SOMETHING to complain about, and that something?

Russell. Fucking. Crowe. 

Ok, I'm sure someone, somewhere, thought that having Hugh and Russell face off as Javert and Valjean seemed like a good idea, and you know what? On paper, I agree completely. They're both great actors, and they both bring a lot to their respective roles. HOWEVER. I hope that person got their fucking arses fired the MOMENT someone heard Russell open his mouth and (and I use this term loosely...) sing for the first time. It was painful! And it was just further reinforced by the strength of the rest of the cast. Don't get me wrong- he acted the utter shit out of the role, but there must have been SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE that could have done that AND not sounded like they had the vocal range of a crumpet. You know, someone like anyone that has ever portrayed the role before in their entire fucking lives?????

It's a shame that what could have been such an amazing movie will inevitably cop a lot of shit for this one example of complete miscasting. Because it WAS a great movie. But seriously, when is Hollywood going to stop casting people that can't sing in musicals? Remember this: 

No. Because you, like everyone else, blocked it from your mind. And I'm so terribly sorry for reminding you. 

Seriously Hollywood. Get your shit together. Love, Mikey. xoxo

Tis The Season...again.

What's better than my favourite Christmas Carol in the whole world? That's right. The Muppets, performing my favourite Christmas Carol in the whole world. Carol of the Bells, which, until recently, I knew as "You know! That one from Home Alone 2 that goes Dunn Dunndunndunn!" (not surprisingly, not many people knew it...). I learnt the name of it last week, and haven't stopped humming it since. Christmas is fun like that. 

I find that now I'm not in retail anymore, I'm able to enjoy Christmas a lot more again, which is good. A retail christmas truly is a horrendous experience, and that scarred me for a little while, but at heart, it's a time of year that I really do enjoy, mostly because it just promotes fabulousness as a way of life. Glitter, twinkling lights, singing, snow machines- there's really not much to dislike about this time of year. (except for customers. man, those guys are dicks).

I love that I have an excuse to watch cheesy Christmas movies (so far this year, I've crossed off The Grinch, Nightmare Before Christmas, Muppets Family Christmas, Muppets Letter to Santa, and The Doctor Who special A Christmas Carol... and we've still got two weeks before the big day!) which I avoid like the bubonic plague from January to November. I love that I have an excuse to wish people "Merry Christmas" and not risk being locked away somewhere. And I love that, for one month of the year, even someone as bitter and cynical as me gets to look on the bright side of life and find new reasons to appreciate the people around me. Ah, Christmas! It's weird- obviously all the religious connotations of the event are lost on me (you know... because I'm sane) but I still think it truly is spectacular. I blame all the Christmas Specials I've overdosed on over the course of my life convincing me to be nice to people for a few weeks. 

It also helps that I'm really looking forward to giving presents to people this year. I've often prided myself in my ability to give awesome, thoughtful presents, but this year? I don't want to oversell it, but this year, I genuinely think I've stumbled upon my greatest triumph. There's nothing worse than giving a gift you're not one hundred percent on board with, but conversely, being able to give someone something that you know is a complete winner? And not just a winner, but possibly the greatest gift any human being has ever given another living creature? Now THATS what Christmas is all about. Well, that and drinking too much and wishing you owned a snow machine. 

You know why I don't post more?

You know why I don't post more? You know, apart from the fact I don't think anybody actually reads this? It's because sometimes, the almost Herculean effort required to actually log in to this damn site to post whatever inane ramblings are currently trying to tumble clear out of my brain just doesn't seem worth it!

I am, primarily, a lazy person, so the fact I go to any effort at all is a feat in and of itself. But throw up even the tiniest road block (like a forgotten password, or a slower than usual internet connection that seems to continually plague me whenever the mood strikes me to churn out a post) and I'm ready to give up faster than...well... shit. See, I'm too lazy to even properly finish that amusing metaphor. 

And sure. A smarter person may well decide to keep a well-placed post-it note listing passwords and login details, but please. See above re: lazy. And stop being so damn judgemental. 

Bah. Humbug.

Ugh. It's that time of year again. It's weird, you know. As someone that LOVES Christmas (let's be honest- what's not to love. It's an excuse to wear tinsel, everything sparkles, and once a year, it's socially acceptable to sing Christmas Carols to your hearts desire) I really, REALLY hate the entire song and dance that surrounds my least favourite part of the season: The Work Christmas Party. 

I'm not sure what I find SO repulsive. Maybe it's the idea of being forced to spend time with people you already have to see far too regularly in a social setting against your will. Perhaps it's the inevitable small talk of "So. How's work?" that ensues when people that really have very little to discuss are forced to discover some sort of common ground, regardless of how tenuous or droll. OR, maybe I'm just antisocial. Who can say? 

But, regardless of the reason, the fact remains. This Friday night is my work Christmas party, and I'm looking forward to it about as much as I'm looking forward to The Hobbit. Which is none. Because fuck Tolkein. It's not even because I dislike my workmates! I don't! I genuinely like a whole bunch of them- they're solid peeps. But the idea of standing around at a work function (after spending eight hours at work that day already!) just doesn't excite me. And you can tell I mean it, because I'm using far more exclamation marks than is socially acceptable. 

Never mind. I'll probably go. My indignation and uptight morality do tend to waver somewhat when faced with an open bar. So I'll drink their free wine. But I wont enjoy it. How's THAT for Christmas Spirit?

Nobody panic! It's under control!

You know, if it's good enough for Cher, then it's DEFINITELY good enough for me. And I mean, December? How perfect! What could be more satisfying for Christmas than new material on here? You're welcome, Internet! Well. By internet, I mean the one or two people that still optimistically check this out, and the few other strangers that were tragically led astray by dodgy Google results. (To those people... I'm sorry. So very sorry.)

Anyway, what's happening with Mikey?

Well, University is a thing, at last! I'm currently half way through a bachelor of Social Science at University of Newcastle! (Don't ask me to elaborate on what Social Science specifically entails- I'm still not one hundred percent sure either.) The end game is hopefully that it will help me finally get into a career where I'm helping people, as opposed to preying on them, as seems to be the general trend developed in my past jobs, in retail and banking. Currently waiting eagerly for my final results to be released for Semester Two, and knowing I've passed two out of three of my courses. The only one really bothering me is Psychology. I'm teetering on the brink of a fail there, but I'll see. It all comes down to my performance in the final exam, which was hopefully enough to secure the nine or so marks I needed to bag a pass. I think I can sadly say, with some certainty, that my aspirations of becoming the next Frasier Crane have been mercilessly dashed, BUT in my defense... psychology proved to be a stupid course. So there's that. 

What else?

Oh, Sarah and I have FINALLY booked our trip to New York! So THATS a thing, at long long last! Next year I can finally cross seeing a broadway show off my bucket list (But fuck me- Book of Mormon tickets are bloody expensive!!) We're staying in a Hostel off Broadway for ten days in April, and it promises to be a trip of a lifetime. I feel that Sarah and my friendship has been building towards this moment since the very start- it's going to be amazing. We're doing ALLLLL the touristy things- Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller Plaza, Central Park... and did I mention Broadway? Basically, we're cramming as many shows in as humanly possible. If I don't come back a little gayer, I'm asking for a refund. Although I DID start this post with a picture of Cher. I'm not sure if "a little gayer" really sits within the realm of possibility any more...

And finally, BIG news...

This is ALSO a thing. His name is Dean, and, at the risk of sounding sappy... I'm a pretty huge fan. Oh god. I've become one of THOSE people. I'm blogging about my boyfriend. (Bet you're REALLY regretting clicking that Google link now, aren't you, poor stranger!) But yeah. This is new and exciting and lovely, and more importantly, it's inspired me to write again. So, expect more of these. Hopefully. And remember. If you haven't got anything nice to say... come sit by me!