When I first heard that "The Little Mermaid" was coming to Broadway, a burst of sea foam shot straight out of my ass.

God, I love "The Little Mermaid." I remember seeing it in the theater and crying when Ursula takes away Ariel's voice. But I also remember identifying perhaps a bit too strongly with Vanessa, the wickedly bitchy embodiment of Ariel's voice who, in my opinion, is hands-down the best female villain in all of Disney history. (I was able to find a brief clip of "Vanessa's Song," but everything else on YouTube is a weird fan-generated mash-up - proving I'm not the only one obsessed with her!)

Anyway, my only real disappointment in the Broadway production of "The Little Mermaid" was the absence of Vanessa. I was hoping the actress who played Ariel would emerge during the wedding finale in a smoldering scarlet wig and behave like a raging bitch, but it never happened. In fact I couldn't really tell you what happened during the finale because it didn't make any sense.

To that degree, the critics were right: The plot lacked coherence of any kind. Something involving a shell. A powerful, radioactive shell. I have no idea. The important thing is that the entire cast was outfitted with Heelys. Heelys, people. HEELYS. How can you ever go wrong with Heelys? That's right, you can't.

In a clamshell, the musical was simply breathtaking. As to which my boyfriend can attest, I cried multiple times throughout the performance, and the ensemble inspired a well-deserved standing ovation that lasted for the closing reprise of "Under The Sea." Everyone left the Lunt-Fontanne with a smile - except, of course, for the Dina Lohan look-alike in the front row who surely would have smiled had it not been for the 3,000 units of Botox rendering her facial muscles as devoid of life as, admittedly, the bizarre fishtails attached to the rear ends of Ariel and her school of multi-culti sisters.