Your time is precious. Here are five stellar ways to consider spending it …

• The egotistical and extraordinary Kanye West brings his critically acclaimed Glow in the Dark Tour to the Susquehanna Center on Saturday night. There’s not a single seat left in the house, but you should be able to find something on Craigslist, and Sherry’s Tickets on 15th street has 18th row from the stage for about $150 each (215-561-5544). If you get there early, you’ll have to sit through Lupe and Rihanna, which you might not care to do.

• Also egotistical and extraordinary but in a less cool way, FBI-raided illusionist David Copperfield will inspire awe and female swooning at the Academy all weekend. I’ve seen him a couple of times and, although he’s likely to do the same tricks as before, I’m going again, which says something about either the quality of his work or my lack of a social calendar.

• Like books? The Free Library’s Second Annual Book Festival has lots of ’em, and their authors, too. Look for headliners Barbara Walters and Bernadette Peters (who apparently has a book out) in addition to Philly Mag contributors Ben Wallace (The Billionaire’s Vinegar: The Mystery of the World’s Most Expensive Bottle of Wine) and Vicki “World’s Most Hated Mom” Glembocki (The Second Nine Months: One Woman Tells the REAL Truth About Becoming a Mom).

• As if the Italian Market isn’t overcrowded enough, it’s the 9th Street Italian Market Festival this Saturday and Sunday. Sounds like it’s a lot less Italian than it used to be, sort of like South Philly itself. I’ll be grabbing a meatball sandwich (or maybe some tamales if the tamale lady is around), hopefully some homemade wine (shhhh!) and catching a set by the thoroughly non-Italian Black Landlord, one of my favorite Philly bands (they perform 3 p.m. on Sunday).

• If you’re shorebound, you’ll find that Chris Rock at the Borgata is sold out, Jim Breuer (fellow SNL alum, also at the Borgata) is not, and then there’s ’80s pop star Deborah Gibson, whose show is actually supposed to be pretty entertaining if you’re into the whole pop-meets-Broadway conceit. If you are, $25 tickets are available, and be sure to check out my interview with Ms. Gibson.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, once-squeaky-clean ’80s pop star Deborah Gibson (she was Debbie back then) just turned up in Atlantic City for a three-week run of her “Pop Goes Broadway” show at Harrah’s. I caught up with her in between vocal exercises to find out why the hell we should care.

First thing first: You’re looking fabulous, and I’m sure my body-conscious readers would like to know how you stay in shape.
Well, they might hate me for it, but I don’t do much. I basically stopped obsessing about my body about a year ago and it all kind of fell into place.

How about your voice? How do you maintain it?
Other than an interview I did just before talking to you, and this interview, I’m not going to speak the rest of the day. I also practice my voice every day. It’s just like working out. You have to keep everything in shape. I stay away from acidic foods, because reflux is the enemy of a singer. And I try to get a lot of fresh air, which I can’t do right now because I’m in the recycled casino air. It’s kind of deadly for a singer.

Your show at Harrah’s pairs your ’80s pop repertoire with Broadway standards, and I know that you did some theater after you stopped recording. But did you have theater experience before that?
I was actually in Actors’ Equity at age 11 and performing at the Metropolitan Opera in the children’s chorus. I basically was in musicals constantly from 6 to 16. I was a theater baby. I got back to it at 21 with Les Mis on Broadway, which is where I left off, because that was the last audition I went on right before I started recording. So it wasn’t like “Here’s some pop singer and like on a whim she thinks she can try Broadway.”

Where’s [fellow ’80s mall popper] Tiffany these days?
She’s out and about performing and keeping it going in her own way.

Do you Google her to keep tabs on the competition?
No, I actually know her. I just call her up.

What about Samantha Fox?
No idea.

I’m surprised you don’t pop up on the reality circuit.
I did one, the skating show on Fox. I did that mainly because, wow, what an honor to be able to skate with Kurt Browning. I basically got to learn from a world champion, which was incredible. I get asked to do insane shows all the time and I turn them down all the time. I have a motto, which is “No smooching on television.” Not for me anyway.

[This is the point at which the interviewer stupidly did not ask a followup question regarding how this modesty squares with Gibson’s 2005 Playboy spread. Instead, he chose to go with an asinine, straight-outta-the-box interview question …]

Who is the most famous person you’ve met?
Ronald Reagan. And Princess Diana. She was one of my favorites. I performed at the Prince’s Trust Concert. I was performing first, doing “Electric Youth,” and I had to be in costume, which meant being in ripped jean shorts and a bandana. Everybody else got to be in their gowns to meet her. I said, “Oh my God, I am so sorry I’m in this outfit.” She said, “You look a heck of a lot more comfortable than I am, so good for you.”

What was Reagan wearing?
A tux.

You recently had some problems with a stalker. Is this a new thing for you or something you’ve dealt with throughout your career?
Everybody quietly deals with it all the time, and then every now and again somebody gets some press, because somebody decides to sell some court papers. On one hand, it’s something I take seriously. On the other hand, it’s not a big deal because it just gets handled by the appropriate people and I just go on with my life.

Deborah Gibson appears in “Pop Goes Broadway” through May 24th at Harrah’s Casino in Atlantic City. Tickets are $25.

You’ve known her all your life, but you still don’t know what to get Mom for Mother’s Day. Here are three events worthy of your matriarch …

• Mom will gaze wantingly at the lean, mean bods of the Cirque du Soleil troupe, which just last night opened its KOOZA show under the big blue top at the normally decrepit and deserted corner of Broad and Washington. A good number of seats remain for tonight’s show. The rest of the weekend, it’s fairly sketchy. But doable. If you want a primer on KOOZA, check out this Q&A with Cirque’s acrobatic coach.

• And you thought your mom was pushy and fond of the guilt trip? She’s got nothin’ on Mama Rose. Mother of famed stripper Gypsy Rose Lee, Mama Rose’s completely over-the-top stage mother shenanigans are chronicled in the fabulous musical Gypsy. Sure, you could haul Mom up to Broadway, where Patti LuPone turns in a terrific performance. But the much cheaper and more convenient option would be the version going up this weekend at the Academy of Music.

• Just in case you’re not up on the history of Klezmer music in Philadelphia, a Ukrainian fellow by the name of Joseph Hoffman was at the epicenter of it way back in the days when Klezmer was a big enough thing to have its own epicenter. Hoffman’s granddaughter, drummer Elaine Hoffman Watts, is still around, still playing Klezmer drums. And this Sunday at World Cafe Live, she teams up with her Klezmer-trumpet-playing daughter, Susan Watts (the two are pictured above), for a concert of music from a 1920s songbook that Joseph assembled. Even if you wouldn’t describe yourself as a Klezmer fan, Elaine is a hoot and her concerts with Susan are always fun and memorable, which seems to be exactly what the perfect Mother’s Day present should be.

Ah, Easter, you devil of a holiday. I love my family, but why so much woe? Here are some suggestions for the weekend that don’t include spiral-cut ham or pineapple soufflé.

FRIDAY
I was thinking about checking out Jesus Christ Superstar at the Keswick. After all, it’s considered by most to be the only religious rock opera in existence, unless you, like me, consider the Who’s Tommy a religion. But the whole damn run is sold out (save for a few scattered seats on Saturday night). Sheesh. Go Keswick! But no worries, friends: Veteran Russian art rockers Auktyon are live and direct at World Cafe Live tonight. If you think our rockers are rebels, try growing up in the U.S.S.R. And since we’re going super artsy/avant garde, this is opening weekend for Gus Van Sant’s Paranoid Park. Read about it, and the weekend’s other new movies, in today’s Flick Filter.

SATURDAY
This Saturday’s got plenty to do, but also a lot to prove. Philadelphia Theatre Company is all grown up and living in that swanky new Suzanne Roberts Theatre, so they’d better wear the pants for the opening weekend of their newest show. It shouldn’t be hard: The late Wendy Wasserstein’s last play, Third, is said to be her best — if PTC can’t pull it off, they’ll have some ’splaining to do about those expensive digs they’ve been in. Over at the Bellevue, there’s the big Winter’s A Drag party (benefiting City of Hope), where we expect the Who’s Who of the gay scene to show their boa’d selves off. Drag isn’t mandatory, but you’ll get a discount on the $80 admission if you comply (and you may just discover a whole new you). Guys, if you’re not feeling sexy enough in that little black dress, check out our handy little guide to how do drag right. Just know that the Annie approach is out; every red wig in town is rented out for the return of that adorable orphan at the Academy of Music (and if you missed our very uncomfortable Q&A with the lass who plays Annie, read it here). And if all of that sounds just way too complicated and ridiculous, reggae legend Gregory Isaacs spliffs it up the Troc.

SUNDAY
There are two roads to travel. Both involve more dress-up, a fact guaranteed to cause flashbacks to Easter weekends past. The Easter Sunday Promenade is the only time you’ll see people actually looking nice on South Street. Come on now, show off that cute Easter dress you’ve been saving — and after Saturday night, that goes for girls and guys. (And in case you’re at all confused, this is a kid-friendly event.) There are awards to go around, and you’ll be able to impress someone by telling them you’ve been to a real, actual, Henri David (pictured) party, since he emcees the event. (Congrats, you can almost call yourself a Philadelphian now.) But my advice? Take the road less traveled: It has friggin’ zombies on it, which is always a good thing. Sunday evening is the third annual Philly Zombie Crawl, the bar hop for the undead. (If you can’t possibly understand what a Zombie Crawl could be, just stay home, for your own good.) After everything that has the potential to go on this weekend, you’ll have plenty of good stories to tell on Monday, none of which involve pineapple soufflé.

Eleven-year-old Amanda Bronte-Balon, who’s playing Annie in the touring Broadway production of, uh, Annie, called from a stop in North Carolina to talk typical tween stuff — recent birthday presents, cute dogs and the collapsing American economy. See her (and her itchy red wig) at the Academy of Music this weekend. — Amy Strauss

Happy birthday! What’d you get?
A lot of stuff. A Coach purse and a Tiffany’s bracelet.

Ooh, high roller! Which Tiffany bracelet was it?
I have no idea.

Didn’t you ask for these things?
No.

I see. So, does showbiz run in the family?
A little bit — my mom has always wanted to do it.

Yeah, that seems to be the norm. So, what do you like most? Singing, acting, dancing — you do it all. Or is performing like a box of chocolates?
Yeah, that’s basically it.

[Long pause]

OK … Moving on, how does it feel to be a part of such a great show like Annie? You’ve been doing it for a couple of years now, right?
Correct.

[Long pause]

OK …

[Long pause]

It’s a great show. It’s educational because it’s about the Great Depression. And it makes you feel really good. I love it.

You mentioned the Great Depression — are you worried about how today’s economy is going to affect the show?
Yeah.

You are? OK! Tell me, who are your role models? Are you on Team Lohan or Team Britney? Maybe more of a Miley girl?
I like Carrie Underwood.

Have you met her?
No, but I really want to.

Back to Miley — have you heard her new single?
The rock-star one?

No, the techno one, “See You Again.” It’s pretty hot.

[Long pause]

Um, any rituals or things you do before the curtains rise? A little jujitsu session? Sudoku?
I pray.

What do you pray for?
A good show and to make people happy.

That makes sense. But while you’re also backstage, do you have any demanding requests, like only green M&Ms? What do you ask for?
Nothing, really. When I go back to my dressing room, I don’t really ask for anything.

No sprinkled Pop-Tarts?
[Laughs] No.

Yeah, sprinkled Pop-Tarts are da bomb. I like the cherry ones the best.

[Long pause]

So, you must be so busy touring — how do you find time for a boyfriend?
I never dated on tour. I don’t know. Nobody really does, not even the adults.

So you’re saying there aren’t any cute boys in Annie? C’mon, who’s your Daddy Warbucks?
No one.

What about the dog? He’s cute, right?
Yeah, he’s pretty cute.

How is it wearing that red wig?
Really itchy.

I bet. Is it flame-retardant?
Ha-ha. Probably not.

I guess some people do have a bit of disposable income … Not so long ago, the idea of driving to Atlantic City for a concert not featuring an almost-dead person was absurd. But tonight alone you’ve got Carrie Underwood/Keith Urban at Boardwalk Hall and Alanis/Matchbox Twenty at the Borgata, both of which are utterly sold out, though your friendly neighborhood scalper is surely well-stocked. Should you prefer to see the almost-dead, the the Commodores are at Trump Plaza. Well, actually, it’s the Commodores without Lionel Richie,, so I’m not sure what you call that, other than totally not worth the $50 ticket price.

Won’t this false holiday ever end? … It’s possible that you, like a lot of people, don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day on Valentine’s Day because you know that’s for suckers. So I asked Philly Mag super-intern Andrea Carayiannas (we just call her “Andrea”) to come up with some Valentine-specific suggestions for the sensibly belated among you, and here’s her short list: Hunky New York jazz vocalist Jack Donahue on unrequited love at the Art Museum’s Valentine’s Cabaret; nudity and adult situations abound in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Aspects of Love at Plays & Players; and, uh, for the “knotty couple,” as Andrea puts it, adult-oriented Passional Boutique in Queen Village offers a two-hour “Bound for Pleasure” workshop. Hey, we don’t make the news, we just report it.

Wait a second — it’s not First Friday … In case you feel completely disconnected from the city’s visual art scene, you might want to check out Art Glut, featuring nearly 50 Philly artists. It’s not at PAFA. It’s not at the PMA. It’s not in Old City. It is, of all things, in the South Philly rowhome (aka My House Gallery) of UArts grad Alex Gartelmann. Really. There’s not even a website. Friday 5:30 to 8:30 p.m, Saturday and Sunday 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.; 2534 South 8th Street; 908-370-1656.

This week, guest writer Brian James Kirk steps in with some suggestions on how to (and how not to) hold Monday off for as long as humanly possible …

In case the idea of body paint brings back fond memories of a personal nature … The Blue Man Group still exists? By now, I figured they’d have cashed their checks and started an art commune in North Dakota, suddenly inspired by Dada, post-modernism and the “alternative space” of performance art. But not so. Expect droves of confused ticket-holders to show up at the Wachovia Center tonight, wondering what the hell it is that the group really does on stage. Regardless of what that may be, it has to be more entertaining then the Wachovia’s big Sunday show: Dancing With the Stars — The Tour. Or not.

Yeah, so he’s responsible for “Memories,” but still … If you’ve ever doubted Andrew Lloyd Webber’s prolificness, just look at area theaters. Luckily, you missed Cats last night at the Sovereign Bank Arena in Trenton, but the less-revered Aspects of Love starts tonight at Plays & Players. On Sunday, a few blocks over, Whistle Down the Wind closes at the Merriam. The man probably just wrote three more Tony Award winners while you were trying to get that stupid song out of your head.

Assuming love, in your case, is not dead … As much as you hate to give into Hallmark this Valentine’s Day, you do have a special someone to tend to (and if you don’t, I apologize in advance for making you feel like shit). This time around, send a “till death do us part” message to your sweetie that truly means it. Creepily beautiful Laurel Hill Cemetery presents their Tim Burton take on lasting love: The Love Stories of Laurel Hill, with tales sure to titillate via toe tag. There will be plenty of hot chocolate and red wine, but if you have plans to duck behind a mausoleum and get a little early V-Day play, I suggest extra layers.

Who is it, exactly, that actually finds this guy funny? … The peak of your career was spent playing a gimmicky character on the Drew Carey Show. You could argue that the Late Late Show, which you host on CBS, was a step up, but then I would have to ask you, “Have you actually watched it?” Sorry, Craig Ferguson. Here’s hoping your stand-up tonight at the Keswick is phenomenal … Unless you’ve already changed the channel, viewer, you could save some cash and see Vince Vaughn’s new movie, which opens today. I’ve heard it’s not all that funny, but that new movie about the illegal abortion is probably funnier than Craig Ferguson, so the bar has been set pretty low.

What can I say, I’m a MILF-loving stoner … And there’s always Aaron Lewis of Staind, doing his solo thing tonight and Saturday at the Borgata, but personally, I’d have to opt for staying home and catching up on my Weeds episodes. One day, Mary-Louise Parker. One day.

CLASSICAL MUSIC
Grammy-winning concert pianist and recipient of the coolest name award Emanuel Ax (pictured) and his also-pianist wife Yoko Nozaki team up with the Orchestra and special guest conductor Alan Gilbert (NY Philharmonic, Royal Stockholm Philharmonic, and Hamburg’s NDR Symphony Orchestra, whew!…) at the Kimmel for a bit of Hillborg and Bartok. If you’re not convinced, go for the $7.50 tickets (plus, some people say that the sound is better in the nosebleeds…).

THEATER
No matter what you may think about the beleaguered little town of Bristol, the Bristol Riverside Theatre (with over 50 Barrymore nominations), should not be dismissed. Their current show, Welcome Home Marian Anderson, about the groundbreaking Philadelphia contralto, ends on Sunday.

SPEAKING OF LAST CHANCES
Also ending this weekend: the Auto Show at the Convention Center, Avenue Q at the Forrest, John Francisco’s photography exhibit “Far from Zion: Jews, Diaspora, Memory” at the University of the Arts, Whistle Down the Wind (music by Andrew Lloyd Webber) at the Merriam, and Yasmina Reza’s Art at Delaware Theatre Company.

THEATER
Pulitzer- and Tony award-winning playwright Edward Albee’s (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?) newest work, Me, Myself & I, closes soon at Princeton. Toby called lead actress Tyne Daly (yes, yes, from Cagney & Lacey) “brilliant.”

If Princeton is out of reach, Avenue Q’s run at the Forrest ends on Sunday.

PARTYING
There used to be a time when Fat Tuesday meant something in Philadelphia. Sure, that meaning basically boiled down to South Street turning into a river of regurgitated alcohol, bosom beads, and mounted police, but that was long ago. Tonight, grab a a friend and a drink (or several) and make it mean something again.

COUCH SURF
Hey, it is only Day 2, and there’s plenty of week left, so sitting on the couch and watching Super Tuesday returns during American Idol commercial breaks could also make perfect sense.

Should you wish to postpone your trek through the Wissahickon, here are some alternate ideas …

Because she has such great genes … So her birth name is Lisa, but her stage name is simply Simone, a nod (and marketing gimmick, of course) to her mother, the late, great singer/pianist/civil rights activist Nina Simone. (Whose own name, it must be said, was not Nina Simone but Eunice Kathleen Waymon.) But the living Simone is no Frank Sinatra Jr. She’s got talent and individuality, not to mention killer looks (at 45!) and a successful Broadway career, having starred in Jesus Christ Superstar,, Rent, and Aida. Still, she doesn’t exactly shy away from the comparisons or connection to Nina — a cover album of her mother’s songs is due in April. She brings her lovely self and her mini-orchestra to World Cafe Live on Saturday.

Because it’s not just the day you get paid … This being the first Friday of the month, all the galleries are doing their regular thing. But it’s way too miserable out to contemplate a casual stroll, even if there is wine and cheese along the way. If you have the stamina for only one event, make it the Corsets for a Cure auction/gala featuring those oh-so-snug fitting under- (or over-) garments, designed by local corsetier Delicious Corsets and hand-painted by some of the area’s most talented artists to benefit the Linda Creed Breast Cancer Foundation.

Because the parking garages around the Convention Center clearly need your money … In case you somehow missed hearing about it, the Auto Show opens to the public tomorrow — and you know you want to check out that SmartCar, even if it is the death trap that a lot of people are saying it is. (For the record, my friends in Spain love theirs, and whenever anyone says anything about the safety issue, they go off on this whole Bush-oil-SUV-conspiracy thing.) This evening is the $200-per-person preview affair, with lots of swilling and Stephen Starr grub. I’ve got $500 for anyone who gets ejected tonight for indiscretions in the back seat of the Rolls Royce Phantom.

Because you only watch it for the commercials, and last year they pretty much sucked … I’m going to go way out on a stereotyping limb here, but if you’re the type of person who has absolutely zero interest in watching the commentators slobber all over themselves, I’m guessing that you’re probably also the type of person who enjoys a quiet night at the theater. Some suggestions for Sunday night: the closing night of Vivien (the story of Gone With the Wind star Vivien Leigh) at the Walnut Street’s Independence Studio; Avenue Q (profane puppetry) at the Forrest; Arthur Miller’s The Price on the Walnut’s main stage; and Wittenberg at the Arden (somehow they made Martin Luther and 1500s Germany funny).