Proving once again that dorks are hot

Um, hello? Neville Longbottom got hot!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 had their New York premiere on Monday, and the majority of the British cast crossed the ocean to walk the red carpet. I've never been shy about my love for Daniel Radcliffe, but I think he's been ousted from the top of my Hogwarts crush list. Behold Matthew Lewis who plays dorky and sometimes daft Neville Longbottom. Holy hell did he go through a transformation. He's practically unrecognizable from the awkward kid who started the series ten years ago...though in the later films I started to see that he was possibly not completely tragic in the looks department. Now at age 22, Matthew Lewis looked dapper and sexy on Monday's red carpet (not to mention that he now has about ten inches in height on Radcliffe). Hollywood watch out, this guy has leading man potential!

How to succeed? Show the peen!

Apparently the way to score lead roles in Broadway musicals for which you are probably too young and when you have no demonstrated singing ability...is to have flashed your junk. Daniel Radcliffe is slated to star in the spring 2011 Broadway revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying as J. Pierrepont Finch, a character who is roughly in his mid or late twenties. Matthew Broderick was 33 when he played this role in the 1995 revival, Radcliffe will only by 21. Radcliffe is obvi known as Harry Potter in the 6 and counting movies of that franchise, but his only Broadway credit came in 2008/2009 when he dropped trou in Equus (which I of course thoroughly enjoyed).

Without this previous notoriety on Broadway, I would find it very surprising that Radcliffe was cast as Finch. I love How to Succeed and will absolutely make a point of seeing the new production, but I don't know how high my expectations are. Radcliffe is a great dramatic actor, but can he be funny and more importantly can he sing? Finch is a legitimate role, demanding vocally and physically, and I can't help but question whether young Radcliffe is ready.

The day which shall not be named...

It's not a coincidence that "Valentine's Day" and "Voldemort" both start with the letter "V". It seems they're both words that must not be spoken aloud in certain company (or written in txt...this is 2009 and no one actually uses verbal communication anymore).

I recently began dating someone. We met a few weeks ago and had a great conversation, text at least every few days, and have been on one great date with mention of wanting to see each other again. That was a week ago today. And though we exchanged texts Thursday and Friday night leading up to this dreaded day, plans for the weekend have never been discussed. So here I lie in bed Saturday morning on Valentine's Day preparing to run errands and buy my ceremonious V-Day gallon-size bottle of Arbor Mist, but wondering whether I should be straightforward and ask this guy what his plans are for the weekend. Meaning tonight. Meaning Valentine's Day. But as much as the "V word" is of course implied, for me to come right out and say (well...text) "do you wanna go out for Valentine's Day?" seems so taboo two weeks in. It screams "be my Valentine and let's and fall in love and get married on top of a mountain and have millions of babies and forever tell the story about how we fell in love on the most romantic day of the year!"

Yet assuming this relationship is on a progressive path, what are we supposed to do, cross this weekend off the calendar, skip it, not see each other, and pick up where we left off next week? All with an unspoken and unmentionable agreement that spending Valentine's Day together was just too much too soon, so the day didn't exist. And if it does work out in the long run, look back and know that even though we had already begun dating, we weren't special enough to spend V-Day together? But a second date on Valentine's Day is a whole helluva lot of pressure. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

So for fear of getting "avada kedavra"-ed in love, I plan to keep the "V word" out of my mouth today.

Nice junk, sign my Playbill?

I don't go to the theatre for the nudity...really

After months of fantasizing and many dirty, dirty thoughts, I finally dragged my ass to the theatre and got student rush tickets to "Equus" on Broadway with my outdated student ID (thank you S**** Hall University for not putting expiration dates on IDs, and congrats to me for still looking as young and fabulous as I did many moons ago when my photo was taken!). For those of you who have been living under a rock, the current revival of Peter Shaffer's play "Equus" not only is a great literary and theatrical work...but Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter also gets completely nekked in it. And who wouldn't wanna see that?

Penises aside, this is a beautifully done play. The story of "Equus" surrounds a young stable hand and his conflicted relationship with horses. The horses are artistically portrayed by men in minimal costume with a steel horsehead mask and hooves to indicate their equine nature. Though the men cast as horses had no lines, their amazing talent still was still exposed through their intricate and extremely accurate movement and body language. Radcliffe and fellow "Harry Potter" actor Richard Griffiths headlined this extremely talented cast, and both men could easily receive Tony nominations.

Radcliffe's nude scene is artistically and naturally done, but judging by the conversation of those around me, society still hasn't fully gotten past the novelty of seeing Harry Potter's magic wand. What the hell, I may be a true, mature theatre lover, but I'll admit that I felt a naughty tingle of the magic. And the fact that I chose to see "Equus" when I've never before seen a non-musical on Broadway of course had nothing to do with the promised peep show, honestly.

But this raises the issue: How do you treat someone after you've "artistically" seen their penis? Occasionally when I see a show with a big name star or an actor who's given a truly inspiring performance, I do the stage door thing and wait outside to meet the cast after the show. However, as much as I would have loved to have been able to say that I met Harry Potter, I MEAN, Daniel Radcliffe, I decided against seizing the opportunity. Not that waiting at a stage door in the bitter New York winter to meet someone is the most natural of circumstances, but really, what are you to say to someone after starting at their penis for a solid ten minutes "Nice junk, sign my Playbill?"