This boring-assed preholiday stretch struck me as the perfect time to catch up with the kind of glitzy, crass activities we would normally never deign to engage in, even if we're secretly jonesing to. Now, I assumed, was exactly when to go to all those kooky museums and planetariums—it would fill a gaping void in the calendar, and besides, no one would see me there except for silly, bedraggled tourists. The problem is that everyone else had the same crazy idea! A visit to Madame Tussaud's wax museum—where you can touch the replicas... More >>>