Your Hamilton Viewing Party

Belt it out with me … “ONE DAY MOOOOORE!” Sorry, wrong musical. But I’m Joey Tribiani levels of not-even-caring because we only have one day more until we will all be sitting in our living rooms in corsets and breeches, singing the single f*ck outta Hamilton

*they only left one f-word in the show so it would have a PG-13 rating on Disney+ … one, sad, single solitary f*ck 

 

If you are a sad girl like me who never had Hamilton on Broadway tickets, and a good girl who never looked for “Revolutionary Boys In a Group Sitch” on that website that shall not be named that you couldn’t access anyway because you have a lifetime subscription to Covenant Eyes, you have never seen the original cast of this most popular musical do the thing they do.

WE HAVE TO MAKE THIS MOMENT LAST. 

Raise a Glass to COVID…HEY!

Thank you, COVID, for allowing us to have this moment. Hamilton on Broadway was supposed to hit theaters in October, but the COVID overlords have granted us this boon and given us the play-musical-movie early in our homes thanks to quarantine. 

Of course, that same overlord is responsible for the fact that we cannot have a group of nerds over for a bust it out sing-a-long, so thanks for nothing, global pandemic. 

 

What’s Your Hamilton Viewing Party Plan? 

Hamilton drops precisely at midnight PST July 3rd. For those of you in the flyover seats, that’s 2am tonight. For you bitches on the east coast, who probably had no problem getting a comfy train to NYC in 2015, so you’ve already seen Lin as Hamilton, it’s 3am. But you knew that. It’s only us central time losers who can’t do time zone math. Mountain time people, I don’t know when you get to watch it. Call your comptroller. 

I’m gonna keep it sleazy and take a disco nap today around 5pm to 8pm, then I’m waking up at 1:45, letting my Cab Sav breathe, popping some kettle corn, throwing some peanut butter M&Ms in there, grabbing my teenage daughters, making them warm brownies, and not giving them any Cab Sav. I do have some chocolate oat milk for them. Oh we are gonna cry. They’ll yawn. I’ll live tweet. Our dogs will be confused. THEY’LL TELL THE STORY OF TONIGHT. 

 

Tomorrow They’ll Be More of Us

I’m hoping Friday whizzes by in a blur of swimming in the pool, rewinding Yorktown, prepping food for the 4th, belting Burn, finishing off that Cab Sav, killing Guns and Ships, making embarrassing Instagram stories, crying through It’s Quiet Uptown, and perhaps starring in the background of my daughter’s newest TikTok.

It’s Hamilton Day!  Basically.

 

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