I’ve heard this question many times in my life: “You waited how long?” Followed by the inevitable: “Was it worth it?” And honestly, I don’t know that I’ve ever answered that question in the negative. I’ve waited for many an hour on many a line for my pop culture, and it’s totally worth it.

Most recently, I probably waited the longest I ever have on line, outside even, for Standing Room Only tickets to The Book of Mormon. Yes, not only did Emily and I wait eleven hours for tickets to a show we’d already seen, but the tickets we were waiting for entitled us to stand in the back of the theatre for the duration. No seats, no backrest. Just our feet and the seat-backs in front of us to lean on. And it was 100%, no doubt about it, worth it. I obviously knew the show would be worth it. But the wait itself was part of the fun:

Waiting on line is just like going on a roadtrip. Sure, it gets a little uncomfortable, sometimes boring, and long. But just like a roadtrip, you have to be prepared. Bring activities! Dress appropriately! Start sing-alongs! (You’d think this wouldn’t go over well, but since most of my line-waiting is music related, no one usually throws things at me.) And bring good company. Of course, if you go by yourself, make friends! When you’re waiting on line for something, all the other people on that line want it just as badly as you. They’re your people! Some of them are going to be weirdos, obviously, (I mean, I’m a weirdo), but some of them are going to be awesome. And even if you never talk to them again, you will always have this line.

I’ve waited on line for Broadway shows (obvi), signings (BBMak, Carol Channing, Patti LuPone), comedy shows (UCB), drag queens (Drag Race), midnight movie releases (HP), concerts (Adam Lambert), rollercoasters (Kingda Ka), after parties (*NSYNC), and screenings (HP), among other things. I even waited in line for a Harry Potter book release and wasn’t even buying the book. (I’m a fancypants and ordered the UK publications from Amazon.) So, if you’d rather take a plane somewhere or pay for the luxury of a seat, I’ll meet you on the other side. And while I’m waiting for you, I’ll pass the time with a good round of “Going on a Picnic.”

This weekend, my improv group, Dumpster Tequila, went on a road trip. And I have to say, it was just magical. In improv, there’s a thing called “group mind,” which is when everyone in the group is so linked in their collective consciousness, they instinctively know what moves the others are going to make. Well, it’s like Providence and Dumpster Tequila had developed some sort of group mind. We knew where to go, and it knew where to take us.

After enjoying a delicious breakfast in NYC, we hopped on the bus to Providence (after the Aaron Carter dance party in line, of course). Many rounds of Scrabble and road trip games ensued, and of course we got yelled at for being too loud. Sorry ‘bout it. Anyway, it quickly came to my attention that, though I was the one who brought it up in the planning of the trip, I hadn’t brought my bathing suit, while mostly everyone else had. You guys, I love swimming. I was devastated. But wouldn’t you know it, there was a mall within walking distance of our hotel (Providence!).

Everyone knows bathing suit shopping sucks balls. And this was no exception. There was barely anything for me to try on. At the second store I went to, I was about to settle for an ugly, too-expensive mom bathing suit, when I saw it. Right by the register, shining like a blue beacon. An adorable suit in my size that was ten dollars cheaper. After a quick trip to the dressing room, where it obviously fit, I bought it, only to find out it was on sale (Providence!).

After a delicious dinner in a fun bar with a weirdo painting of dead musical legends in a Last Supper-like pose (a smiling Kurt Cobain next to John Lennon with Biggie standing nearby), we took our swim. Later that night, we had a great show, but little did we know, the best was yet to come. As we came out of the beautiful theatre, we heard music. Not just any music, but…a marching band? Sure enough, we rounded the corner and saw a huge group of people spilling into the street being lead by a brass band. We quickly followed them into a park and were treated to an amazing impromptu encore by a band (we later found out) called What Cheer? Brigade. We stuck around dancing (though not as joyously as the band’s fans) until the cops came. It was maybe one of the coolest things I’ve been a part of (Providence!).

Sunday, after a delicious brunch, we stumbled upon an amazing art project done by a group called Tape Art for the 375th anniversary of the city. They are making a mural inside an outdoor ice rink out of tape and plywood. We took lots of pictures and talked to the artists. They work on their pieces for weeks, but once complete, they’re only up for twenty-four hours. This will be done tomorrow and gone by Thursday. How lucky we got to see it (Providence!).

And after walking around seeing all the old houses, Brown University (No, Emma Watson doesn’t go there anymore), and the State House, our perfect road trip had to come to a perfect end. And even the most perfect road trip isn’t without its setbacks. Our three and a half hour bus trip home? It took five and a half hours. Thanks, Providence!

Yesterday, Entertainment Weekly posted the a poll asking which cartoon readers thought was more attractive: the Beast as a Beast or the Beast turned back into a human.  I thought, along with columnist Annie Barrett, that the answer was fairly obvious.  72% of the readers agreed with us.  The Beast as a Beast was so obviously more attractive.  I don’t know why, but Disney animators missed the mark there.  I mean, it’s a weird thing to say you prefer an unidentified animal with fangs and claws and fur to a flesh (ink) and blood man, but the results don’t lie.  And it’s not the “bad boy” thing because he was really sweet inside and she helped him realize that and changed him!  And isn’t that what every woman wants to do? 

But this got me thinking about a conversation I had semi-recently in an improv rehearsal.  We were doing an exercise where someone gives a category — favorite breakfast cereals, for example — and everyone says the first one that came to their mind.  Well, someone asked for the Disney character you’d have sex with.  I thought of mine and then hesitated.  I laughed and literally said, “Mine’s kind of weird.”  One of the other girls said she thought she knew what I was going to say, and she had thought of it too.  We start going around and, everyone else’s were fairly normal: Prince Eric, Jasmine, etc.  Then I said mine.  And no, it wasn’t the Beast.  But it was Robin Hood the Fox.  Turns out, that is who the other girl was thinking of.  And another girl in the group was like, “ohhhhh! Yeah!”  The guys were totally weirded out.  Then, no joke, a few days later, one of my friends from college had something about how hot Robin Hood was in her gchat away message.  What the heck, ladies?

Yes, I know that this is all silliness and obviously impossible hypotheticals.  But I do think it’s weird and also amazing that we can look past the fact that he is a FOX, and be like, “I’d totally do him.”  He’s just so dashing!  Disney did a bang up job on this one, creating a super sexy character that somehow resonated with women enough for them to be attracted to an animal.  So weirdly, I guess I chose Robin Hood for his personality, but the Beast for his looks.  Because the Beast as a man is just fug.

So, in my improv class tonight, this girl told the craziest story.  She used to work in film production and was working an event Universal was throwing to honor Julia Roberts for her work in Erin Brockovich.  One of the attendees was George Clooney.  This girl was helping a bunch of executives get settled at the event, and George came up to her and asked if she would hang out with him because he didn’t really know anyone.  Of course she was like, okay!  So she hangs out with George Clooney all night, and when the event is over, escorts everyone to the hotel lobby to get cabs to go to the airport.  George holds the car door open for her and asks her to come to LA with him and then onto Vegas.  She’s like, “George!  I can’t.  I live in New York!”  George says, “Come!  It’ll be so much fun.  Just come to LA with me.”  Well, she then informed George Clooney that she had just gotten engaged and couldn’t just run off with him.  He dipped her, kissed her, and said it was too bad. 

What the What?!  That is the stuff of movies.  Quite literally.  Notting Hill.  Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!.  It’s a simple formula: regular person meets celebrity, celebrity falls for regular person.  And here it was in someone’s real life, and she turned down the movie star.  The entire time she was telling this story, I was thinking how it sounded like all the fantasies I’ve had about celebrities.  As a child, I loved Joey McIntyre from NKOTB.  Whenever my friend Mandy and I would play house, we’d always fight over who was married to him.  Whoever lost that fight would end up being married to his non-existent twin brother, who we made up for the purpose of this game.  Imaginative, but pretty simple stuff.  As I got older, however, the scenarios grew more elaborate.

When walking around my suburban Chicago neighborhood in junior high, I would frequently have this one fantasy about Jonathan Taylor Thomas.  I’d be enjoying the day, minding my own business, when he would come running around the corner.  You see, a pack of girls would be chasing him, and he only just got away.  I, of course, would give him refuge in my house.  Then we’d get to talking:  He was here visiting an aunt.  I was a fan, but still saw him as a person.  And so on.  He’d obviously fall in love with me, and we would be boyfriend and girlfriend.  Since this was before everyone had cell phones, he would give me a long range walkie-talkie, so we could talk to each other when he went back to LA.  Yup.

I also had this very specific fantasy about my class trip to Disney World sophomore year of high school.  As Leonardo DiCaprio had filmed part of Marvin’s Room there, I thought it was logical that he’d maybe shoot another movie there.  And this movie would happen to be shooting when we were there for our trip.  And he would happen to have a day off on the day of our performance, and, of course, happen to wander by as I was singing some solo.  He would fall in love with me despite my 16 years, and I would attend the Oscars with him in a replica of the red and black beaded dress Rose wore when she tried to jump off the Titanic to her death.  Wow.

I still have these crazy fantasies, especially living in New York.  There are so many celebrities everywhere, most of the fantasies involve me literally running into people, starting a conversation, and them realizing how amazing I am.  Justin Timberlake is one of them, of course.  As an adult, though, they’re not all about cute boys.  This scenario also works with Tina Fey.  I accidentally bump into her.  We share a brief, but terribly witty conversation.  She thinks I’m hilarious and hires me for 30 Rock.  That’s how it’s done, right?  None of this hard work at relationships or your career.  You just meet a celebrity and they make all your dreams come true.  Unfortunately, the girl in my improv class only reinforced this message in my head.  That one day Jonathan Taylor Thomas will ask me to run away with him.  But I will say yes.

I haven’t posted in four days.  Whoops.  Two of those days it was because I was busy being awesome and living my life: improv, drinking, birthdays, Grease Sing-A-Long (AMAZING), gay sketch show, etc.  But the other two, I was literally doing nothing but watching things on Netflix streaming.  No, I didn’t get my own account yet, but after this week you can bet I’m gonna.  I’m cat-sitting at my sister’s, and she has a Wii and a Netflix account.  Jackpot.  There was such a wealth of entertainment, you can’t possibly be surprised that someone who blogs about pop culture couldn’t pull herself away from all the pop culture.  The three movies I watched on Saturday were all “event movies” from last year that I hadn’t seen yet!  This needed to be rectified.

The first thing I watched was The Proposal.  You know I love a rom-com, and you know I love Sandy!  This movie was adorable and predictable, as a good rom-com should be.  Betty White was obviously delightful, and I love an appearance from Craig T. Nelson.  One of the good things about The Proposal was that, at first, I wasn’t really sure how it was going to end.  And, I really didn’t care.  I was fine with it going the way it went, but if they had taken the rom-com road less traveled that would have been good too.  Seriously though, the best part of this movie was Ryan Reynolds.  Mmmm…Ryan Reynolds.  He’s crazy good looking, and that dry delivery?!  Forget about it.  I’m smitten.  He can do no wrong in my eyes.  I’ve been a fan for a super long time.  Not only since Two Guys and a Girl still had a pizza place, but since he was on the Canadian teen drama Fifteen that aired on Nickelodeon.  It was brilliant.  Witness:

My second choice was something I was ashamed to say I hadn’t seen for a long time.  I finally watched Up.  It was everything we have come to expect in a Pixar movie.  The funny thing is, what we expect is the unexpected.  Pixar constantly suprises me with how wacky they can be while still remaining grounded and real.  It reminds me a lot of improv.  Not to get all comedy nerd on you, but improv scenes are all about the world that you create and the relationships between the people in that world.  If the people are acting honestly based on the reality you’ve created, it doesn’t matter how weird that reality is.  You believe it.  By grounding Carl and Ellie’s relationship in such reality, you believed the extreme measures he would go to hold onto what he had left of her: his promise.  That strong relationship also allows you to see Carl’s ability to start caring for Russell, Dug, and even Kevin (talk about wacky).  I wonder if they make the Pixar team do corporate improv retreats.  Perhaps they should.  I bet they could all make UCB Harold teams.

Finally, I watched Zombieland, and I found it delightful.  I wish I had watched it only two weeks sooner, as until then, I had managed not to find out who had the “amazing cameo” I heard so much about.  Unfortch, there was an Entertainment Weekly article in the last issue that gave it away.  I can’t really be mad at anyone but myself, however.  You can’t claim to be “spoiled” nine months after a movie came out.  Certainly not by something you choose to read.  A friend maybe.  Anyway, I love Jesse Eisenberg a lot, and found his nerdiness as appealing as ever.  (Ummm…digression, but The Social Network looks bananas amazing).  I don’t know if it really did anything that Shaun of the Dead hadn’t already done, but it was a fun movie.  I really hate Twinkies, though.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday I watched Season 3 of Bones.  I love that show.  On to Season 4!  Thanks, Colleen and your Netflix. 

I’m writing this on the subway.  (I posted it later though.)  How is that possible, you ask?  Why, because I’m on my new laptop.  It’s so small, it fits in my purse!  One of the best things about living in New York is the subway.  Everyone has good subway stories.  Right now, for example, I’m looking at two sixteenish-year-old girls, who are pretty average seeming teenagers.  A little less trendy, a little more grunge.  But they’re both carrying stuffed animal backpacks.  One has a koala, the other has a shark.  What?  That is weird, right?  I love the subway.

Today it was big news that they’re changing the subway maps.  Manhattan will be bigger!  Sorry, Staten Island, you’re not all that important, but you knew that already.  I mean, people take the Staten Island ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, not to actually go to Staten Island. The new maps will also make the water bluer!  And parks will be less green!  Wait, one of those things doesn’t seem like an improvement.  The MTA never gets it right.

So, what does this have to do with the rest of the country?  Well, you all have incompetent government agencies, right?  I mean, it makes total sense to have people pay more for less services, when ridership is at an all-time high.  You deal with crap like that.  You’ve got crazy people in your communities yelling at themselves and at you, right?  You’ve got kids selling candy for their basketball teams, right?  Of course, if you’re from the suburbs, chances are that basketball team actually exists.  In NYC, not so much.  And the police have the right to search your bags at any time, right?  No?  That’s just here and at airports?  Oh.  Well, that sucks.

Local pop culture is weird.  Tte subway plays a huge part in local NYC pop culture.  You can see it in any comedy show.  Entire improv shows taking place in or around the subway (I’ve done that twice).  And so many stand-up bits about the subway: homeless people, how much the F train sucks, advertisements, etc.  You can learn a lot about local pop culture at comedy shows.  For instance, I was recently in Phoenix for an improv festival, and they make a lot of peyote jokes.  Like, in Phoenix, peyote jokes are like pot jokes everywhere else.  Do people really use peyote (or whatever the term is for using peyote…dropping? taking? smoking?)?  Next time you’re in Phoenix and find yourself at a party, you may have to cook up some peyote (is that it? cook up?) instead of taking a hit.

I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised if I came across someone snorting (do you snort it?) peyote on the subway, though.  They do pretty much everything else on the subway, including smoke pot.  One time, I was stuck on a train at like 2:00 am and a drunk eighteen-year-old girl went in between the cars and went to the bathroom.  Number one and number two.  Isn’t New York pop culture fascinating?

Lee DeWyze is someone I’ve known for years and one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.   I would never claim he was a close friend of mine, but whenever I saw him around AH or MP, he would always check in and ask me how I was doing.  Tonight, he won American Idol. 

To be able to do what you love is an incredible gift.  Sometimes you can even make money at it.  Lee, I feel, is going to have a great career.  He’s super talented, humble, and likable.  And I feel like his inner rock star is going to kick in once he hits that national tour.  I wish him nothing but the best, and I’ll be buying his CD (again, the actual disc) the day it comes out.  Because that’s one of the things I love: supporting people I know and care about.  I can not be prouder of all the talented people I’ve known in my life.  And I’ve known a LOT of talented people.

Hopefully, like Lee, I’ll be able to keep doing the things I love and succeed at them.  My week is shaping up pretty nicely, even though I’m no American Idol.  For example, just because my bestie Emily and I set up a camera, talked about Broadway and pop culture, and put videos on the Internet, we got to stand on a Broadway stage last night.  And we’ve been given a fantastical (that’s a hint) opportunity to do more of what we love: talk about Broadway.  Things are in the works, and I couldn’t be more excited for them!

To end this amazing week, I get to go to Boston with my musical improv group, Dumpster Tequila, this weekend.  I mean, talk about getting to do something I love.  I stumbled upon improv because I wanted to get into performing and thought it would be fun.  Who knew two years ago when I started, I would fall so in love with it.  Not to mention finding musical improv, combining two of the things I love most.  Plus, I love my groups.  I got to go to Phoenix with DT and Chicago with MacGuffin (my other group) in over a week in April, and it was one of the best of my life (this current week is also at the top of that list).  Plus, the last time I was in Boston, I was 12.  This time I won’t just be able to visit the Cheers bar, I’ll be able to get wasted in it.  Holla!

So, here’s to an amazing week, an amazing career for Lee, and the amazing gift of doing what you love.

Oh, also my new computer comes this week.  Web cam!

I had a rough day.  But, I’m glad I got to end it well: seeing my amazing friend Rebecca in her improv show, seeing Lee on American Idol, then seeing magic and NPH on Glee.  Oh, yeah, plus this bottle of wine.  No, not the entire bottle.  Somewhere between a third and a half.  Geez.  I’m not an alcoholic…just a little buzzed.  This, however, is one of the problems of living alone: you can’t have some wine without drinking by yourself. 

It got me thinking, though.  What did people do before cell phones for drunk dialing?  I mean, you couldn’t really call landlines.  You might wake up someone’s family.  I suppose there were always those people who had their own lines, like DJ on Full House or Claudia Kishi in The Baby-sitters Club.  I bet Kimmy Gibbler called DJ drunk all the time, and she only risked waking up Stephanie (in the earlier seasons).  But, oh, man…cell phones were the greatest invention for the drunk person.  I’ve drunk dialed my mom, friends, guys, cousins, etc.  I’ve been drunk dialed by most of those people too, unfortch, though, not my mom.

Of course, now there’s drunk texting.  There’s even a Web site devoted to it: www.textsfromlastnight.com.  That Web site is so terrible and so funny.  Sadly, I submitted to it and was rejected.  It was on my old phone, so I can’t tell you exactly what it was, but I remember the text had something to do with having to pee as if I were from the Midwest.  Whatever that means.  If I can say something that weird, can you just imagine if historical figures had that ability?  Just pause to think for a second about Benjamin Franklin’s drunk dialing and texts.  That shit would have been bananas.

There was also a failed gmail feature awhile back called “Mail Goggles,” which would make you answer a serious of difficult questions if you tried to send an email too late at night.  Of course, I tend to get all “idiot savant” when I’m drunk, so there’s no telling what math I could pull out at a time like that.  I can’t say that I’ve done too much drunk emailing.  Drunk IMing sure.  That was no good back in the days of college and AIM.  So many bad decisions and sad away messages.  Usually though, my drunk dials, texts, and actual conversations are filled with love.  I love you, everyone on the Internet!  Consider this the first of many drunk dials.