Superbad Separated at Birth

On Thursday mornings, I volunteer in the Learning Resource Center at Evan's elementary school. Learning Resource Center, if you're not up on the modern educational lingo, is a fancy schmancy name for the school library. I check in books. I check out books. I shelve books. I listen to the various sad tales of why the students in two fourth-grade classes and one kindergarten class have managed to forget to return the books they checked out the previous week. There's always a lot of drama going on there, believe it or not.

Each week, after I sign in at the office, I head up the stairs to the second floor LRC (the hip nickname for the place). Often, teachers hang student artwork along the stairwell. This particular week, one of the older grades (I'm guessing 5th) had done self portraits of themselves in pastels. One in particular caught my eye.

Apparently, "Seth" from the flick, Superbad, attends Evan's school, as the kid wearing the red necktie in the pastel portrait is a dead ringer for that character. Here's a close-up. Excuse the exceptionally crappy quality of this shot. I was taking on the stairs in throng of jostling children, many who wanted to know what I was taking a picture of, why I was taking and what I was going to do with it. I've learned you don't give them much information.

I just really think this portrait looks like Seth. So much so that it made me giggle on the way up to the LRC and again on the way back down to the office to sign up. Sometimes, elementary schools can be highly entertaining places.

Good Dog Carl

]This is Good Dog Carl, otherwise known as Carl, for short.

He belongs to my friend Ty's inlaws. He's a Hurricane Katrina rescue. Apparently various rescue groups around the Cleveland area brought lost, abandoned Louisiana strays up here to find homes for them. Carl lucked out, that's for sure.

As you can see, Carl thinks he's a person.

I like that in a dog. He's one cool dude.

(editor's note... kudos to my first guest photographer, Ty, for providing me with cool Carl fodder for today's blog. I've decided from time to time to feature guest photos. Carl is a good start!)

Mike W., lying down on the job!

I didn't get enough sleep last night.

Apparently neither did my office compadre, Mike W.

I found him like this on my desk at the end of the day:

At least I managed to remain upright and function despite being more than a little sleepy!

Chimpanzees as Home Decor

Once again, I'm breaking my blog rules. After posting the pic of the chimp decor item from Steinmart, I wanted to share several others I have encountered over the past few months.

All were taken before I started my blog, which accounts for my rule breaking. However, all also merit viewing because they're just so weird and were snapped on my trusty Katana camera phone.

These two I encountered at the start of the inventory liquidation sale at the late, great Bombay Company at The Promenade in Westlake back in November. At the time both struck me as particularly hilarious because that same week I was having an email conversation with my aforementioned friend and colleague, Marketing Guru Mitch, about an old television program, Lancelot Link: Secret Chimp.

This show, a take off on the old Get Smart secret agent genre, features chimps dressed as people. Lance was the head PI and was supported by the oh-so-lovely, Mata Hairi. I have talked about this show for years, and no one ever seems to remember it. Most people, including my husband, said I was making it up. Mitch was one of the first ones to say he had seen it and admitted that he had it on DVD. (I headed over to Half.com after this chat and purchased the collection for my sister, who also loved that show...talk about a fruitful trip down memory lane).

So...while at the Bombay Company, I encountered these two dead ringers for Lance and snapped their photos, sending them to Mitch with a note saying that we now know what Lance does in his retirement. Working in the restaurant industry...just like Friday's Steinmart chimp. (Are we sensing a theme here?).

Although not all chimps work in food service, apparently. This piece of unique home decor (I THINK it's an end table) from Grace Brothers Furniture at Great Northern Mall in North Olmsted, features a chimp in the entertainment profession. A bongo player perhaps? Karen and I encountered him on our day-after-Christmas shopping expedition. He was in the main display window. And cost $299. You might be able to see it on the tag.

I'm baffled as to why there are furniture designers out there who seem to think furniture shaped like chimpanzees dressed as people is a good idea. But obviously someone out there is buying it, as it keeps turning up.

And when I encounter it, I'll share it...as it consistently amazes me. I am repulsed, yet I also cannot turn away. :)

Strangeness at Steinmart

Despite the bitter cold, the sun came out today. And after battling several days of cold, grey stir craziness, I knew I needed to get out and about...especially today...my day off.

My friend, Karen, and I decided to make the best of the weather, bundled up and headed out for a day of "errands," better known as aimless shopping, lots of talking and typically also eating some sort of high-calorie lunch. As we have noted to one another countless times before, we excel at frittering a day away. Today was no exception. We maintained our championship status.
At the start of our trip, around 10:45 a.m., we had a pretty heavy agenda...multiple shops in several west side suburbs plus lunch. First on the list, Steinmart. Karen had something to return...and they were having their major markdowns on clearance items. A can't miss.

Now here's the thing about Steinmart. It has great deals...and some really nice stuff. But...it also has some of the weirdest merchandise I've ever seen at a mid- to upscale-level retail establishment. And, actually, that's part of the fun of going there. You never know what kind of retail wackiness you might uncover.

Our first stop on what turned out to be a two-hour adventure there (we DID try on a number of fine clothing items...) was naturally the clothing department. I'm happy to report I found a work outfit, that while has my favorite color...black...in it...also has RED! I actually bought a RED sweater Color clothing for me. Is the world ending? Can you believe it?

But the fact I purchased a colorful piece of clothing isn't the point of this post...the point focuses on items I did not try on, did not buy and for the life of me, cannot figure out how they received such a prominent spots in the full-price merchandise areas.

Check out this lovely two-piece ensemble.

It's kind of a train wreck melange of Charo meets the 1980s socialite grandmother..puffy sleeved jacket combined with pink paisley. And a crinkly fabric, pearl-button-festooned blouse underneath the puffy Charo-esque topper. I'm all for daring fashion, but this complete combination baffles me. I am trying to figure out what was going through the designer's mind when he or she sat down at their drafting table to come up with this heady little Pepto-Bismol, Chiquita-Banana twist on preppy Victoriana number.

This sassy little jacket isn't much better. It kinda has a "Jackie Oh on 'ludes sort of vibe." The cropped little jacket with carries on the paisley theme, but it's more psychedlic than the Charo one...and the wacky beading, I would imagine, could make the wearer look a little "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane-ish." I mean I appreciate a lil' sprinkling of bling to liven up any outfit, but this is a little over the top.


What's best is that it was strategically hung next to the Charo ensemble. I'm wondering if there are women out there who, while shopping for their early spring cruisewear, feel that these pieces would be the perfect thing to wear to the gala captain's night dinner on their Carnival cruise to the Virgin Islands.

Eventually, I moved on into the home section. I have to confess, I rather enjoy that department. I bought a new bedside lamp for my room...Karen told me it was a bit too "Guido" (aka gildy) for her liking, but I dug it...and the price was right. But again...the lamp isn't why I'm writing this. It's the glorious find in the same department, just steps away from the lamp display.


It's remarkable. Stunning, really. What every home needs. A headwaiter chimpanzee wearing a chef's toque, bearing a daily specials board. My kitchen is so empty without it. (Plus, for those of you who don't know me that well, I have a fascination with chimps dressed as people...and really get a charge of the wide variety of chimps-dressed-as-people furniture items out there. There are more than you imagine! And I'll share them with you as I find them!)

While I was marveling at this wonderful item and trying to figure out exactly who would buy it..AND...what their interior decor must be like for it to effortlessly fit in with their scheme, my cell phone rang. It was Karen. Looking for me. She had wandered off in an different direction after we had a heartily amicable (and rather entertaining) catfight over a pair of comfortable, yet distinctly cute, pair of black flats on the shoe department.

(Author's note: I am on the phone with Karen right now...she wants to stress that I was a selfish, shallow beyotch in staking claim to these shoes. I, myself, told her that I have been wondering if it might not be easier to find a new friend who doesn't wear the same size of shoes that I do. She says anyone who reads this might not want to be friends with me.)

But we digress...(and yes, we are laughing as I write this). Karen called to locate me and let me know she had made it back to the front of the store and was browsing through the accessories department. I figured we had been there for nearly two hours and was getting quite hungry by this point, so I quickly took a look at the cool luggage they have there and then wandered up to accessories to find my compadre.

I found our cart...and lying on top of it was something that rather looked like a dead animal. I looked around for Karen, whom I found peering around a rack of earrings watching to see my reaction. I couldn't quite figure out what the thing was, so she willingly modeled it for me.

Can you figure it out? It's quite, er...um..., unique. It's a YORKSHIRE TERRIER handbag. Scaled to size, complete with a removable carrying strap that also can be used, if i can recall, as a headband.

Oh...the marvels of Steinmart.

And for the record, Karen did agree after seeing the lamp outside the store, that it really wasn't so "Guido" and probably would look rather nice in my room.

Winter Melancholy Sets In...Or I'm Feeling Sorry for Myself!

A couple of months ago, someone asked the esoteric question, "Where do you think you'll be in 10 years." My answer was effortless. "Somewhere where it doesn't snow," I replied.

I woke up this morning. Looked out the window, and realized...it had snowed again...just a little...over night. Much to my dismay. I felt the familiar stirrings of my annual midwinter funk settling over me.

Yes...I am well aware of the fact that I am a lifelong Northeast Ohio resident. I know snow is part of the deal one strikes with Mother Nature by living here. But that doesn't mean that I like it.

I never have liked the snow. I'm not a skiier. I don't enjoy winter sports. I hate being cold. As a kid, I would convince myself that I wanted to go outside and play in the snow. I'd have my mother help me get all bundled up to go out there, and without fail, within 10 minutes I would be crying on the porch, begging to come back in.

Winter puts me in a blue mood. Or rather, a gray one. Usually my funk doesn't begin until February, but this year, it's starting a little sooner. Maybe it has to do with the fact I got to enjoy some California sunshine a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps that little teaser of beautiful weather, and my return to icy temperatures and gray skies here jumpstarted the melancholy.

I think I'm going to start a sunny weather fund...and by this time next year, I should have enough saved up to take another trip, or two, to a nice warm sunny place as a cure for my midwinter blues.

Fortunately this year, I do have a trip to Las Vegas on the calendar in mid March. It's sunny there. And warm. And there's palm trees. I'm already counting the days. (and imagine the great blog photos, I'll score there...oh...the anticipation of it all!!!)

Jurassic Beach, the Sequel

It was suggested to me that the creature on the beach in my "Jurassic Beach" post was a real-life incarnation of a mythical Chupacabra.

So I Googled it. According to the Skeptic's Dictionary (http://www.skepdic.com/) "The chupacabra ("goat sucker") is an animal said to be unknown to science and systemically killing animals in places like Puerto Rico, Miami, Nicaragua, Chile, and Mexico. The creature's name originated with the discovery of some dead goats in Puerto Rico with puncture wounds in their necks and their blood allegedly drained. According to UFO Magazine (March/April 1996) there have been more than 2,000 reported cases of animal mutilations in Puerto Rico attributed to the chupacabra."

In my search I found pictures...lots of them...take a look. This one was found by Phylis Canion of Cuero, Texas, a couple of years ago. Mangy coyote or Chupacabra incarnate?

There are more pictures out there. Many look fake...but all have the BIG TOOTH that made the carcass on the Santa Barbara beach oh-so intriguing.

Maybe it was just a dead dog, as many friends who have looked at the pictures have pointed out. Maybe not. But it sure has generated a ton of conversation and debate.

And lots of hits for this humble blog!

The All-Day Sunday Brunch

A couple of days ago, my friend Steve called me up to see what's new and exciting.

We've known each other since we were in Mrs. Turnblacer's 6th grade class at Hudson Junior High back in the 1980s. I hadn't heard from him since the holidays and realized we hadn't got together since early October. We decided it was time to meet up and agreed to go to brunch today. An event I always look forward to and enjoy immensely.

He and his friend, Jarvis, picked me up and we went to Johnny Mango World Cafe, their favorite brunching spot...much to my delight. They have my favorite mojitos in town.

We settled into a booth with the Sunday Plain Dealer, ordered up a pitcher of mojitos, and some food (I highly recommend the chorizo and potato quesadilla big plate and also the miso soup) and started brunching.

Jarvis left at shortly before 2 p.m. to go play volleyball. We agreed to call him if we decided to walk somewhere else so he would know where to pick us up by 4 p.m.

After a couple of mojito pitchers, we switched over to some powerful blue margaritas...also very tasty...and managed to pass the next two hours there talking, eating (we ordered more food... nachos), drinking and just enjoying one another's company, catching up with each other. A nice mellow ending to an activity-packed weekend...exactly what I needed!

Jarvis came back to fetch us, amused that we never did leave there. We convinced him to drive us out to Crocker Park in hopes of touring models of the new townhomes there. No such luck...no models to be seen, but Steve did treat me to more deliciousness...a double chocolate cupcake at Barnes & Noble. YUM!

Baby's Got Sauce

Last night, my friend, Ty, and I went to one of the best live shows I have ever seen. G. Love and Special Sauce...opening act, The Wood Brothers at the venerable Cleveland Agora.

Despite the frigid (think 15 degrees F) temperatures and the fact Ty and I misguidedly decided to leave our coats in the car and make a run to the Agora front door only to enter a virtually unheated concert hall, we had the best time from the time we walked into the place until the show ended.

Although we did debate at one moment whether we should start offering cash to people to convince them to lend us their coats. Once G. Love got groovin' however, the body heat from the fans packed into the standing room show floor...and the dancing...got everyone warmed up.

It was a cold dash back to the car at the end of the show, though. It had dropped to 10 degrees by then.

hollA!

Pearus Erectus

Apple Corer/Slicer $3

Fresh Pear $0.35

Unusually Shaped Pear Core....

PRICELESS!

Jurassic Beach

I have made the executive decision to break my blog rules about posting brand new photos and today post a pair of photos that I took last Friday in Santa Barbara. There's something about the subject of these photos that have kept me and my tour guide for the day, Marketing Guru Mitch, discussing it all week long. We're hoping someone out there will help enlighten us as to what really is in those pictures, as we have absolutely no clue!

While there in lovely Santa Barbara on that aforementioned gloriously sunny afternoon, we noticed what looked like a battleship moored off the coastline. Despite the fact we were hungry and en route to a late lunch, we decided to stop and check it out. Turned out it was a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier, the U.S.S. Reagan. Very cool looking, complete with fighter jet of sorts on the deck.

As cool as that was, it couldn't compare to what Mitch noticed next. We were walking back along the beach toward the car, visions of lunch in our heads, when he said, "Hey, there's something dead over there" and pointed slightly farther up the beach to our left.


Sure enough, a flock of gulls were squabbling over some sort of carcass. We moseyed on over there to get a better look, expecting to see the remains of someone's fishing bait or something boring like that. After shooing away the gulls, including a rather large motley looking brown-and-white one that was visibly perturbed by our intrusion, we instead encountered this bizarre, reptilian creature.


We studied for several moments, saying nothing. Neither of us were sure of what we were examining. "It kinda looks like an iguana," Mitch finally said, and he was right. The tail was very iguana-like, and the skin was smooth enough. But something wasn't quite right about it. Iguanas are herbivores, right?

Well...take a close look at this creature's jaw...and at the HUGE canine tooth jutting out of its skull. No iguana I've ever seen has choppers like that. This thing definitely was a MEAT eater. A true CARNIVORE. An alligator crossed my mind, but the body isn't right. It's more iguana like...but that tooth. That creepy large tooth.

We dubbed it the "Baby T-Rex," and alternately, "Baby Velocioraptor," took these pics of it and then decided it was time for lunch. I did look around us to see if could spot a lifeguard or someone official looking to whom we could point out our discovery, but no such luck.

Does anyone, anyone, out there at all have any clue what we were looking at there on the sands of Santa Barbara last Friday afternoon? We can't figure it out...despite various Google searches for such things as "coastal Southern California carnivorous reptile," and other related keywords?

In an email on this subject earlier today, Mitch and I continued to debate what it could be. I mentioned that I showed the photos to my neighbor, Sue, a native Southern Californian. She said she never saw any creature like that there in her life. Mitch has lived there for more than 20 years and hasn't either. Nothing seemed to fit into a nice, tidy herpetological category.

Needless to say, we're still curious. We're also fearing that we might have walked away from what possibly could have been the most famously notable prehistoric discover of the 21st century. To think...if we had been bold enough to scoop it the slightly smelly, decaying mass, blow off lunch and take it to a museum or something, one or both of us might have had a dinosaur named after us...because that's sure what it looks like. Doesn't it?

Epilogue...

In the 1930s, a serial killer offed at least 12 victims in Cleveland, leaving their headless and limbless torsos in a gritty east-side area known as Kingsbury Run. The killer was never found, although the murders did stop as suddenly as they started.

Had it been closer to that era, I would say the "Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run" struck again...this time in the coffee kitchen at my office.

Poor Mr. Jingles. By 3 p.m., he had been pretty much decapitated. A few sizable chunks of chocolate head remained along with many shards. Only his body was left, and part of that was missing, as well.

I slipped in to take his picture and encountered our H.R. director, who noted, quite impassively, "Once we get through the chocolate, then we can start in on the white chocolate." I thoughtfully considered this, reached into the plastic bag, and I'm ashamed to say, snagged another hunk of Mr. Jingle's tasty chocolate remains.

RIP Mr. Jingles. You served us well.

Poor Mr. Jingles

I have a confession to make.

I succumbed to the temptation that is the broken remains of Mr. Jingles.

I foraged two large hunks of chocolate at his expense.

I couldn't help it. I skipped breakfast. I was hungry. He was there.

And...he was mighty tasty, too.

He's Dead...Wrapped in Plastic

There's nothing sadder to me than lingering reminders of the holiday season several weeks after the festivities has passed.

So, it's no wonder the plight of poor Mr. Jingles made me feel a bit melancholy today at the office.

Groggy from slight jet lag, I stumbled into our small coffee kitchen in search of caffeine and came across such a sad sight. Mr. Jingles. The sad, broken, well-eaten remains of a chocolate snowman, who had a Post-It Note affixed to him, pleading us to "Please eat Mr. Jingles."

At 9:30 in the morning, Mr. Jingles actually looked better than he did at 3 p.m. when I finally got around to taking his picture. When I first spied him, he had a face. Or at least most of one.

I didn't have my camera on me at the moment and planned to go right back and take his picture. I then got caught up in several projects and soon forgot about poor Mr. Jingles until after lunch when I passed by the coffee kitchen on my way into the conference room across the hall. In the time that had passed, someone had eaten off all of Mr. Jingles' face. I couldn't quite believe it!

Fearing there would be nothing left of Mr. Jingles by the time I got out of my conference call, I ran back to my desk, grabbed my camera and took a shot. And my instincts were right...as I was taking the picture, another office dweller, Tom A., stood behind me, eagerly awaiting a taste of the sad, broken snowman. A few moments later, another coworker strolled in and broke off more of Mr. Jingles' body.

Poor Mr. Jingles. To go from a triumphant culinary celebration of the season to a broken, devoured mess wrapped in plastic...the horror of it all. ;)

A Trip to the Land of Oz...and My Frosty Return

On Thursday afternoon, while it was still temperate here on the Northcoast, I hopped a plane for a brief visit to Sunny California.

Yes, the moniker "Sunny California" obviously is overused, but having spent four days there and witnessing just as many days of clear blue sky and sparkling, shining sun, I have to agree that it's an apt description. Regard this lovely photo of downtown Santa Barbara on Friday around noontime. Ahhh...palm trees. This picture simply screams, "Sunny California!" There's no way around it.

Or what about this picture of Ventura (I'm now in love with the place!) on Saturday afternoon, taken high up in the hills overlooking the city? Scenic view. Blue skies. Wave-filled ocean. Sigh. It got even better down on Ventura Beach as sunset crept upon the ocean and the miles and miles of sand.

Pretty much like paradise on earth, I must say. I sat down on a bench right here at this spot and watched surfers take on some nice-sized waves, as the sun set upon them, trailing its golden rays across the sea and the sky. And I didn't want to move from my perch because the sight before me was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. And it moved me to see such beauty, particularly something so natural and untouched.

The amazing...and I mean AMAZING...weather continued Sunday. High 70s, breezy, sunny. Blue skies framing the hills. Again, I stood outside, my face to the sun and soaked it all in. I needed to...I was returning home to C-town the next day, and rumor had it was snowing.

My suspicions were confirmed when my lifelong friend, Mary, sent me a picture of her snow-covered, suburban Cleveland yard to my phone that morning in retaliation for all of the gorgeous SoCal pics I sent her over the weekend. (Yes...I was gloating. I couldn't help it. I was so taken with how beautiful the days were where I was!)

I made a few calls on the way to the airport. Yep. Snow. Damn! I stewed about it during my flight, knowing I was going to have to face the inevitable in a few hours. I stepped out of the plane that evening onto the jetway and, quite possibly, gasped out loud as a rude burst of icy air hit me. I knew it was coming, but still I wasn't prepared for it. I got home, bundled up in layers and went to sleep under my warm covers. I awoke to more snow and encountered this scene on my way to the office. You should be able to see the downtown skyline from this vantage point. But you can't. All you can see is fog and snow and cars creeping along the shoreway into the city. I almost felt guilty for gloating. But not quite. Instead I felt slightly wistful knowing what I had left behind yesterday when I stepped onto that plane at LAX.

Back from Being MIA

Just a quick post to let ya'll know that aliens did not kidnap me and steal my camera phone. I have been traveling and had...GASP...limited internet access since Thursday afternoon.

I will be posting tonight. One to compare/contrast the weather in SoCal vs. here. Ha! And...another more traditional post...I am at work and already found inspiration in our coffee kitchen.

So, please, please, please hang tight...more camera phone to come! I promise!

Signed, Rested, Relaxed and Rejuvenated Robin (who is once again sorrowfully freezing her ass off!)

All Sorts of Wacky Contraband!

Ever wonder what TSA agents confiscate at airport security checkpoints now that it's common knowledge what and what isn't allowed in the wake of 9/11?

You're probably thinking..."hmmm....scissors, nail clippers, toiletries not in those quart-size Ziploc bags, the occasional water gun," right?

Think again. The fine folks at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport have provided travelers with a highly educational display at the security checkpoint at the middle of the airport, the one that goes to gates A, B and C. The cases display "just a small selection" of items confiscated at the checkpoint since 9/11/01.

Sadly, my crappy camera phone does not have a zoom lens, but even from the posted picture you can tell it's a whole host of crazy stuff. There are ninja stars, a plethora of knives, several guns, nunchuks and three things that got both the guy in line in front of me and me laughing out loud -- a bullwhip, a huge ammo belt complete with exceptionally large bullets and, in the top center of the case on the right side, a hand grenade.

You just have to shake your head in complete and utter wonderment at something like this.

Couldn't Help Myself...

Today's photo is one of those that I absolutely had no intention of taking, let alone posting. In a way, it's too much of a repeat from yesterday's shot, which I posted first thing this a.m. But...that said...it was one I couldn't resist.

As I sat tapping out public relations copy at my part-time day job, I noticed Mike W. out of the corner of my eye, peering at me intently around my telephone. For some reason the sight of this made me laugh out loud. My phone was sitting nearby, so I grabbed it, sized up the canvas and shot the picture you see here.

See what I mean? It's just too weird to let such a photographic moment slip on by without notice.

Collecting...

Our neighbors, Sue and Jim, are avid antique collectors. They particularly love the holidays and have one of the most fabulous holiday decorations collections I've ever seen. We visited with them last evening so we could see this year's display. Every room in their house is filled with all sorts of treasures. Truly amazing!

I collect some things -- I have a small collection of antique handbags ( I prefer ones from the Edwardian - 1920s eras); vintage compacts; flapper hats (only a few); and vintage pamphlet cookbooks. I particularly have a fondness for Jello cookbooks, but pretty much any entertaining one catches my eye.

While at Jim and Sue's house last night, I was examining the "cooking"-themed Christmas tree in their kitchen, when this decoration, delicately nestled among the branches, caught my eye. A pamphlet cookbook with the best sexist, vintage title I've seen: "Pies Men Like."

Why only men? Didn't women like pies back then? I did a little research on it...it was written by the the folks at GM in the 1950s, who apparently believed all the good wives of their execs and other personnel wanted to slave away on pies for their men.

It made me laugh.

Meet Mike W.

This is Mike. He lives on my desk. I rescued him from our garage sale this summer after misguidely thinking I could make a quarter off of him. No one bought him. I felt guilty. I took him out of the "quarter box" and let him move into my workstation.

Mike has been a regular photo subject of my camera phone snapshots. In fact, he's become so popular with my friend, Spice, that on the days I'm at the office, she waits to get the "Daily Mike." He has all sorts of wacky adventures at work. This shot isn't anything out of the ordinary for him. He's a nut!

At one point, I had thought about doing a blog called "The Daily Mike," in hopes he might become even more famous than Travelocity's ubiquitous gnome. But seeing that he's linked to one of the most inflexible (and likely equally as litigious) entertainment conglomerates in the world, I decided I didn't want the "mousy" legal eagles ferreting out my humble blog and sending me a cease and desist order on Mike's and my creative contributions.

He will, however, be a regular sight on this blog. Who knows where you will find him next. Or what antics he'll be doing.

Unpredictability in C-Town

Regard this photo. Examine it carefully.

Then...consider the date of the posting AND the fact I post pictures within 24 hours of taking them. Then consider where I live.

What's unusual about this photo, taken about 3 p.m. on Monday, January 7 somewhere in Greater Cleveland?

Besides the fact Marley, the little girl on the left, has lavender hair?

These three munchkins (the other two are Paige in the middle and her twin, Maggie on the right) aren't wearing coats. Not even a windbreaker! On January 7!

It was roughly 65 degrees this afternoon. And mostly sunny. Six days ago, we had a snowstorm and got multiple inches of snow. And it was DARN COLD!

Our spring-like revelry will be short lived. Within a week we're supposed to have snow showers again. That's Cleveland for you...the world's craziest weather.

A Quiet Camera Day

Today turned out to be one of those days where nothing tickled my fancy photowise. I'm not worried. Those sort of days happen, especially on mellow days where I spend much of the time in the house doing chores. Any shot I considered there seemed to planned and contrived.

When I did leave the house, I spent most of my time out of it at the movies. Went to see Juno with my friend, Kate. Highly recommend it. One of the best things I've seen in quite some time.

I thought about taking a screen shot or two during the film, but I didn't want to be accused of being a film pirate.

After the movie, we stopped for dinner at an Indian place, Cafe Tandoor. Again...nothing out of the ordinary to get my photographic creativity flowing...anything I considered taking seemed too premeditated. Tried to get a picture of the feast on the table...it was too dark in there...and frankly, I felt like I was trying to hard to come up with something. A creative block. It happens. I'll try again tomorrow.

I'm not going to force this blog. I'll post pics when something materializes that I think is worthwhile. I'm not going to go out and about with the sole purpose of finding the perfect pic. I'm all about photographic spontaneity.

Oh Dear...I Might Have Created A Monster...

Earlier today, I went for my regular visit to my favorite salon, Color Nation, to have my stylist, Katy, trim up my hair and fix up my color. It was time for a clean-up, especially because I am growing my hair back out longer after wearing it short for 6 months. And...if I waited much longer, the color police were going to put a warrant out for my arrest!

Katy and I got to talking about all sorts of things, as we tend to do during my appointments, and she asked me how Evan was doing. I told her that he, like so many elementary school-age boys at the moment, is adamant about keeping his hair longer and shaggy. He likes it so "it flops," he says.

Since this process started later last year, he and his father have been a battle of wills about it. His father is a firm believer in exceptionally short hair and has his cut far more regularly than I do. Evan has been avoiding haircuts after I mistakenly sent him with his father for one in August and he came back with a clipper cut, teary eyed and angry.

The last cut he had was at a local kiddie hair salon after he refused to go to what he calls "Worst Cuts" and "Horrible Clips," both scenes of prior scalpings. The cut looked great..for about a week. Since then, the kid's hair has been growing out of control. I have never taken him to a full-service, upscale salon, but today after chatting with Katy about options for his thick, insane mop, I booked an appointment for him later that day.

He always has been fascinated by my salon...namely because of the red velvet couches (he and George Costanza!) in the waiting area and also the fact that people working there talk to him while he is waiting for me.

What he didn't realize is that it's even better when you're having your hair cut there. They SHAMPOO your hair at a big sink ("Worst Cuts doesn't do this," he noted to me). The shampoo was the highlight of his first major salon experience. "It feels nice," he reported...looking more than a little smug. I think he could have stayed there all day as Katy rubbed shampoo into his hair.

I stood there watching amused, but it also occurred to me that I have started an evil cycle. The kid enjoys the pampering salon experience. And...he's only 8.

His love affair with the place grew as Katy started cutting his hair. She conversed with him, which he liked. And best, she asked him what he wanted to do with his hair. He explained his "floppy hair" requirements to her and then sat patiently as she worked on thinning down the shaggy mess on top of his head...much to his satisfaction. As we were leaving, he informed me that she is "so nice" and that he's coming back there for his next haircut.

Someday, 15 or 20 years from now, some woman is going to kill me...or maybe she will thank me. Maybe he'll become the kind of man who understands the special relationship a woman has with hair salon and hair stylist. :)

Photo adventures at Crocker Park

I knew from the start yesterday that it likely wouldn't be the kind of whirlwind photo opportunity day I had enjoyed the evening before, simply because it was going to be a quiet kind of day. It was my son Evan's last day of winter break, and we didn't have much planned other than spending the morning at home doing various chores and then going out to the movies later in the afternoon. Still, I knew that every day brings all sorts of picture possibilities and was confident I'd find something to shoot before I went to bed last night. (I went to bed so early, I never did get around to posting, hence the first-thing post today!)

My friend, Kate, who had the day off, too, decided to join Evan and me for our afternoon outing to Crocker Park, a nice lifestyle center on our side of town, in the somewhat tony sububrb of Westlake. Plenty of stores, decent restaurant selection and a large, modernized cinema. We opted for Champps for lunch and Evan picked the movie -- National Treasure. We started backing down the driveway, and I realized I had done the unthinkable...I didn't have my phone with me! THE HORROR! Glad I realized this before I got too far from home!

Arriving at Crocker Park, I noticed it was still all decked out for Christmas. We grabbed lunch and then had about an hour to kill until the movie, so we wandered around the complex for a bit. I kept my eyes peeled for a good photo moment. We were admiring the massive Christmas tree in the middle of the traffic circle when I noticed something funny about it: The star on top looked tired. It listed to one side rather than standing triumphant on top. It had been a long holiday season...that star had enough cheer. It needed a vacation. We got to giggling about this and all agreed it was a fun, end-of-holidays shot to post.

This picture, however, wasn't my coup de gras. I actually shot a much more unusual one about 10 minutes earlier at the Barnes & Noble. I had been inside the door for the store for no more than 30 seconds when I saw my true photo of the day. But it was going to take a little finessing, as I didn't want to draw attention to myself nor my camera. Although, I will note that I was not the only person who noticed this sight. Pretty much everyone in the store was taking a gander as well, trying to decide what, or rather whom, they were looking at.

I can tell you that I am not cut out to be a private eye. All that subterfuge is a bit stressful! As I quietly pretended to be writing a text message on my phone, I sized up my shot and clicked the shutter. Drat. It wasn't a good shot. Deep breath...and I tried again. with much more success, although the picture is a bit blurry...but I wasn't going to push my luck.

I think perhaps Evan summed up best the reason for this photo. I had been alone while taking it as he and Kate were upstairs poking around the kids' section. I didn't mention the photo to him, but as I was standing in line waiting to check out, he stopped...and he looked...and he looked again. He finally leaned over to me and asked, "Mom, why does that lady look like a man?" I mumbled some sort of unsatisfactory answer to keep him quiet.

But...all I can say is that sight of a gigantic pre-op transexual wearing leggings is a rare, very rare, one in Westlake, Ohio.

Cosmos + 80s Prom Dress = Happy Dog (aka, No! I Do Not Have a Foot Fetish!)

The headline above is the perfect summation of my evening. A night of good friends, post-holiday reunions, good fun and great music.

M friend, Ty, one of the mainstays of my group of friends, had been out of town pretty much for the past two weeks. We picked tonight to be the post-holiday rush reunion of whatever friends could make it out. The reason? Our friend, Dan, guitarist for the cool reggae band, Carlos Jones and the Plus Band, plays with friends on the first Thursday of every month at this great west side bar called The Happy Dog. He's a great guy, and we love to support him and his music. We hadn't been to "First Thursday" in awhile and decided it was high time to make a night of it.

First, however, we kicked off the evening at our friend Cathy's (not the John and Cathy, "Cathy" from New Year's...a different Cathy...aka from this point forward, Spice) house. She is a pro at mixing up Cosmopolitans that are the perfect blend of cranberry, Cointreau, good vodka and fresh lime juice. She had a pitcher ready when Ty, I and our friend, Jen, arrived at Casa de Spice. (Karen, the other regular besides Ty and I, is off skiing with her family...alas! And our mascot, KPR, also couldn't join us.)

Spice greeted us at the door because her employer's holiday party is this weekend at the glorious Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (jealous!). She needed crucial feedback. She had her dress on and also two different shoes...a hot, sparkly strappy sandal and a more conservative pump. Typically, I am a winter wimp and refuse to wear any sort of open-toe shoes in Northeast Ohio beyond October. But I saw the shoes...I assessed them with the dress...and the hands-down winner was the strappy sandal. Without a doubt.

We started drinking cosmos and nibbling on some light snacks, when Spice threw another fun variable into our evening. Her 1980s prom dress that her sister brought to her over the holidays. My girly-girl side went crazy...big flounces; a sexy, strappy, sequinned bodice...and when I peeked inside at the size tag...a hopefully perfect fit. I felt a completely irrational sense of glee...obviously cosmo induced...rise up. Suddenly...I had an idea! (yeah...you know where this is going...keep reading to see if you're right.)

Surreptitiously, I grabbed the gown and headed toward the downstairs powder room nearby. But...they noticed me and started cackling..."What are you doing," they asked. "You're not going to try it on, are you," they cajoled. Damn right I was. I had two strong, well-mixed cosmos in me and had fallen in love with the sequins. There was no turning back.

I slippped it on and...IT FIT. I couldn't believe it. A 20-year-old dress fit me. Ok, it didn't originally belong to me, but the fact that I could still work someone's teenage prom dress at my advancing age struck me as absolutely fabulous. I triumphantly exited the powder room, reached for my phone and struck a self-portrait pose.

Now here's where I break the rules of my "A Day in the Life of a Camera Phone" blog. I am allowing photos taken by someone else to be included. This is merely to show off the true 1980s retro glory of the dress...self portraits do not do it true justice! I decided, "What the heck," and opted to ham it up shamelessly for the camera. I mean, how many times does one, while slightly fortified by high-quality cosmos, get to model a mint-condition vintage prom dress that fits her despite the fact she is on the cusp of entering her "midlife crisis" years. (for those who are wondering, yes....I do still have a "3" leading off my age, but as of 1/9, I will have only 18 months left until a "4" replaces that).

Still it was kind of trippy to flashback at least 20 years (actually more... Spice is a couple of years younger than I am) to my youth and have a little trip down memory lane!

Eventually, I realized I needed to leave fantasyland behind and return to my normal clothes, as time was ticking away and we needed to get to the Happy Dog to see at least one of Dan's sets. We set off to the bar, which is only a few miles away.

The biggest challenge was getting out of the car from the on-street parking, clambering up the snow-laden curb to the sidewalk...and THEN...navigating the sidewalk into the bar. The joys of winter. While we had a clear, snowless day on December 31 (see very first post), the next day we got pounded with snow, and it's still here.

We got in the bar and had a nice time. The music was great, as always. We chatted briefly with Dan while he was on a break. And then it caught my eye...a glorious piece of kitsch behind the bar, amongst the liquor bottles. AN ELVIS lamp. Many years ago, when I was much younger, I used to eye such a gem in the window of a store called Big Fun in the Coventry neighborhood of Cleveland Heights, where my one of my best friends since my school days, Mary, used to live. I loved how it was so cleverly used at the Happy Dog. I could not resist taking a nice camera phone digital shot of it! NATCH!

And while I was taking my shot of the Elvis lamp, something else further down the bar, nestled amongst more liquor bottles, caught my eye. A pale ivory lamp shade, trimmed in familar black fringe. Could it be? Oh, could it possibly be...a miniature LEG LAMP.

I moved quickly down to the end of the bar to get a closer look so I could accurately identify my find. Yes. Yes. Yes! It was!

My third leg lamp in less than 48 hours. Is it Karma? Or something else unexplained and mysterious?

For Comparison's Sake....

The motif of my week? Leg lamps, apparently. I've encountered two today! What are the chances of that happening? Actually, pretty high in Cleveland, the home of the actual Christmas Story movie house. There are a lot of fans of the lamp here in town.

First, I wandered into the main conference room at work, and there in the center of the table was a mini leg lamp -- a nice replica of the original Christmas Story one. It even has the fringe! We had purchased it for our boss, Rob, earlier last month for his birthday. Apparently it has now become part of the permanent decor. I should volunteer to give it a home should he tire of it, however. It's rather cute.

Then at lunch, I saw what I had been hoping to see for the past week. The elusive leg lamp yard inflatable. I knew such things existed, as a friend sent me a text message last week saying he had driven past one in someone's yard. I specifically drove by the same house to see it the next day...but alas...it was not in the stars for me. It was a deflated heap of plastic. And, the next time I went past, it was gone! I felt so unfulfilled.

But today, my dream came true. I wandered into the FYE store at Tower City Center on my lunch hour in search of a headphone adapter for airplanes so I can use my own headphones instead of the annoying airline-issued ones when I am on long flights and want to watch those highly edited movies they show. No such luck on finding the adapter, but I wandered smack into inflatable leg lamp Nirvana. I paused to look at a rack of discount CDs near the entrance and saw, behind a very large, hairy dude, THE LAMP!

I wanted so badly to get a picture of the lamp itself, not with him in it, but he was loitering at a display of DVDs, carefully and oh-so-intently inspecting the descriptions on the back of each and every one of them. My lunch hour was ticking away, and I feared I might not get a photo if I waited until he finally managed to make his way through the entire shelf of selections. So...I surreptitiously slid my phone out of my pocket, sized up my shot, pretended I was writing a text message and clicked the shutter. Success. But I still wanted a picture of the lamp in its glory. Not to mention the 50-percent-off sign and the remaining inventory of such a glorious item, a distinguished "major award."

I lingered a bit, and sure enough, serendipity smiled upon me. DVD-lovin' guy finished his perusing and left. But wouldn't you know as soon as he moved out of the way, some slacker-type in a puffy ski coat moved into the same spot. Undaunted I pulled out my camera, resituated myself to take a shot of the leg without ski-coat dude getting into it and again snapped the shutter. Once again...SUCCESS!I had my picture of this quality holiday decoration.

For those of you thinking it might be a nice addition to your yard next holiday season, don't hesistate. As you can see, there only appear to be two left still new in box. The original price? $79.99, but one could be yours for the discounted price of $39.99. What a deal!

I don't need one. After all, I am the human leg lamp. Although, I will confess I need to replace my fishnets. They had a bad encounter with my beaded handbag in the early hours of New Year's Day. The handbag won.

Frah-gee-lay...

The human leg lamp.

In a moment of bad judgement and holiday cheer in the wee hours of this a.m., I promised my friends I would post this image.

So here it is. I am true to my word.

All you need is a lampshade and a pull chain.

Not a finger...!

Happy New Year! Welcome to 2008!

Martini Queens

My close friend, Karen, is not only the consummate hostess, she also reigns as the undisputed Martini Queen. She can mix up any powerful tasty concocotion involving vodka and other libations that's sure to satisfy. One of the benefits of being close friends with someone so talented is that you get plenty of opportunities to watch and learn. And believe me, I have. Thus, I have become the Martini Lady in Waiting...because even Martini Queens need a break every now and then from hosting and shaking up icy vodka beverages. New Year's Eve is one such night.

We all wind up at some point during this evening, or even the wee hours of New Year's Day, gathering at our friends John and Cathy's house at their annual shin-dig. Good food. Familiar faces. Good drink. Tremendous amounts of fun. And, best of all, everyone is welcome.

Apparently we've established a new tradition there over the past two years -- Karen takes a break from martini mixing, and when I arrive at John and Cathy's, I take over the shaker. The party "bar" each year is located in the terrific little breakfast room off the kitchen...and is the perfect gathering place for mixing drinks and revelry.Last year, I spent a good part of my attendance shaking up what I'm told were killer Cosmos (rumor has it several folks who enjoyed them didn't move from their couches all New Year's Day).

This year, we didn't get to the party until close to midnight. We first joined two of my work friends, Sue and Cheryl, and their husbands at Johnny's Downtown for a decadently delicious dinner. During dinner we got to talking about chocolate martinis, which gave Sue quite the craving for one. I promised her I'd make her one if the fixings were there at John and Cathy's. And, we set off for their house.

After ringing in the new year, we wandered back into the breakfast nook and sized up the bar. No creme de cacao or any sort of chocolate liquer. Can't do a chocolate martini without something chocolate. But...there was vodka. Lots of vodka. And Baileys. And coffee liquer. I decided to improvise. So, I threw some ice in the shaker, poured out the ingredients and began mixing, marking the occasion, naturally, on my camera phone:

The result: A strong, yet highly tasty, blend of complimentary ingredients...there's probably some official name for it in some bartending guide out there, but if anyone wants to coin a new one for it, let me know. Latte-tini, perhaps?

I also received kudos for a traditional vodka martini -- served up, very neat with two olives -- from another party guest. She came back for seconds. Perhaps I have missed my true calling?

The Martini Queen has taught me well and even got to enjoy the results of her fine tutelage...a well-mixed latte-tini that she didn't have to make.