Free Samples!

Of what? Empty cupcake papers?

I don't see any lemon pudding cake, do you?

I think the sign is somewhat overselling its promise.

On A Clear Day in Cleveland...

There still are clouds.

Seeing that we're in a middle of a snowstormy sort of day, I thought my local readers would enjoy seeing a picture I took on Saturday (from a moving vehicle...I wasn't driving!) of the city's skyline silhouetted by a crystal blue sky.

And...a big low-lying cloud obscuring the top of the tallest building between New York and Chicago. (Key Tower for those of you who are Cleveland ignorant.)

Would we Clevelanders expect any less?

You Know You're at a Fine Dining Establishment When...

You walk into the restroom stall and discover complimentary tampons right there in their own special holder.


Talk about quality service and thoughtful touches.

No need to frantically dig around in your purse for a quarter to drop into that unsightly metal dispenser box on the wall.

No sireeee. Morton's is a far classier establishment than that.

There even are little bags for the tasteful disposal of unmentionables.

And, what's more...the $5 Happy Hour Bar Bites menu with the mini cheeseburgers, bleu cheese fries and crabcakes is outta this world!

I dont' think we're at TGI Friday's anymore, Toto...

Gettin' Down with Brown...

Or at least my friend, Ty, is.

Check out this lip balm. It's from UPS.

She says she picked it up this summer while visiting the Minnesota State Fair en route back to Ohio from a trip out west.

Funny. I happened to be at the same fair this summer, too, and I didn't get no stinkin UPS-branded lip balm.

I want my admission money back!

Cheep...cheep...cheap...PEEPS!

Yes...indeedy...it's that time of year again. Easter candy! Yay!

Time for the blast from my past...plagued by a chocolate allergy in my youth (thank GOD I outgrew that!), I had to seek my sugar-high jollies from alternative candies. No chocolate Easter bunnies in my basket...I got waxy "white" chocolate, jelly beans and...best of all PEEPS! Nice, fresh Marshmallow Peeps...bunnies and chicks in the traditional shades of yellow for peeps and pink for the bunnies.

To this day, as gross as it might seem to some, I cannot resist a freshly opened pack of those sugared, chemically marshallows. Even now when they come in such bizzare shades as lavender, green, toxic red and...the worst...blue. (I don't trust blue food and truly believe blue M&Ms were a really bad marketing decision.)

Today at Target, Evan and I came across the Peeps display and decided to take our maiden voyage this year into the heady delight that are Peeps. I tend not to buy the newer "seasonal" Peeps at other times of the year...there's just something so nostalgic about the Easter ones.

I let him pick them out...I prefer the bunnies...in traditional pink. He went a bit wild. Chicks. In Toxic Red. The picture does not do the color justice. They look pink. They aren't. They are a deep muted red.

That didn't stop us from eating half a carton this evening. I'm waiting for social services to arrive and haul me away for feeding my kid such crap.

But...c'mon...it's a slice of my sugared-up childhood. A part of my past. And still tasty.

Although I think I forgot to tightly wrap the package before retiring upstairs for the evening, and I'm too tired to go back down and do it. My 98-cent investment will be tough and chewy in the morning. While there are some Peeps afficianados who like them that way...I don't. I'm all about the soft sugary marshmallow sensation.

I guess I'll have to go get a new pack.

And maybe I'll pick up a Cadbury Cream Egg while I'm out, too...

Chicken Little! The Prices are Falling!

At least they are on fine home decor iteams at the Marshall's at Chagrin Highlands, where I do believe the photo of this folksy chicken accent piece was shot by guest photographer, Mary, otherwise known to you regular readers as the Duran Duran uberfan.

Knowing my penchant for weird animal themed furniture and decor pieces (members of the primate family being my favorite), Mary sent me this classic shot via her camera phone to my camera phone today.

I was at work, but it didn't stop me from laughing out loud. The chicken, by the way, is a steal at $10. Don't miss out on this one-of-a-kind curiousity.

I wonder if the Marshall's by my house has one...

It's the End of the World as We Know It...

Last night I went to see Wicked at Playhouse Square.

While wandering around the mezzanine during intermission, hoping the line for the ladies' room would die down... I saw the most remarkable sight.

At first, I couldn't quite believe my eyes...a line of men. I knew they couldn't be waiting for the bar, as there was none in the general vicinity. I kept looking at them, trying to place why they would be standing in line like that.

Then it dawned on me. They were...GASP...waiting to the use the restroom, or as the sign shows the facilities deemed for use by "Gentlemen."

This was the middle part of the queue, which continued on inside the men's lounge, extended out past the gentlemen so ill-fated to make it into my snapshot and halfway down the mezzanine seating rows of doors. In fact, the line was so long, the fellas at the end were practially standing back to back with their female counterparts waiting patiently in line at the "Ladies" room.

How many times in lifetime do you truly see parity in the restroom line at intermission?

I had to take note.

Don't It Make My Pancakes Blue...

I am not a pancake eater. Never have been. But Evan...that's another story. He loves pancakes and loves to help make them.

Thing is, plain ol' lightly browned pancakes just don't cut it with him.

He needs a lil' more glam with his Saturday breakfast. Thank goodness for neon food coloring.

This morning, he and his dad mixed up this rather unique batch of pancake batter.The little man was quite pleased with his color selection. So much so that he yelled for me to come down and bring my camera phone.

The color wasn't quite as muddy looking in real life. This muted TEAL.

Yep...teal pancakes. I can't decide which looks less unappetizing, the bowl of batter or the actual product in the skillet.

It's not helping my lifelong aversion to them. Give me French toast or an omelette any time, hands down!

On "Sick" Leave...

I've been felled by the flu. Headche. Sore throat. Fever. Chills. Achy. I missed work today. All I did was sleep. Thus...my picture taking abilities were a bit stunted since I've been a shut-in all day and haven't spent time out and about in the world. Didn't think anyone would really want to see a sick-day self portrait of me with my sweaty, matted bedhead.

A little frightening, to say the least!

Oddities at the Cleveland Home & Garden Show

Each winter, I head out to the Cleveland Home & Garden show at the IX Center where -- by the time I leave -- I hate my 100-year-old home, realize I need to make more money to do the REAL decorating and updating I want and...I also come home with some sort of needless purchase. (This year i t was a quart of Ohio maple syrup and a $20 set of 400TC Eqyptian cotton sheets...we'll SEE how they hold up after one round in the washing machine...)

Also, no matter what week it is, it's always bitter cold. This year, however, took the cake. Single digit temperatures. Negative double digit wind chills. A big open parking lot that sits right next to the flat runways of Cleveland Hopkins International Airport...you freeze going in...and going out this year was somewhat like being caught in a major blizzard.

But each year, I wind up having a great time and always go back.

This year I learned about a granite countertop product that has polymer blend in it to make it more durable for spazzes like me. I also learned that while I couldn't live daily in a floating home on Lake Erie, I could probably hack it as a weekend home, if I had the money to buy one.

I also learned that the Home and Garden show if full of interesting things...some useful...some...well...just interesting.

Within 10 minutes of arriving, much to my delight, I saw something...or rather someone...I had spotted out and about before. An honest-to-goodness Abraham Lincoln lookalike. I've seen him before...the very same guy...at Trader Joe's in the spring. Then he was wearing white pants, white bucks and a Hawaiian print shirt. This weekend he was dressed a bit more appropriately for the Arctic weather that blew into town.

I debated taking his picture...the whole invasion of privacy issue...but the fact I've seen him twice in different places in less than six months seemed like a sign to me. Plus, isn't it fitting that his birthday is tomorrow? Or at least Honest Abe's birthday is tomorrow. The picture is blurry, as I'm still improving my paparazzi skilss, but you can see the resemblance.

I continued to wander the aisles, looking for things that truly caught my eye from a home improvement standpoint but also things that piqued my interest from the sublime to the ridiculous. Such as this lovely, unique, large-mouth-bass area rug -- which apparently can double as a stunning wallhanging. The picture does not do it justice. I just stood there looking at it with my mouth open (much like the fish) for quite some time before I decided to snap a photo memorialize such an item. I know people decorate rooms of their home in fishing themes, but isn't this going a LITTLE overboard? I wonder how many orders that vendor got this past week during the show.

I continued my wandering, lusting after several sofas, some lovely Berber carpeting, entire "woman's study" done up in soft vanilla and black with toile furnishings and a number of fabulously stylish kitchen layouts that put my aging cooking area to shame.

Suddenly, I stopped short at the sight of a frightening little woman who appeared to be handing out leaflets at a booth. She was elderly but clad in skin-tight leopard print leggings with a sort of "Sandy" from Grease vibe.

Then I realized, she wasn't alive. She was WAX. A scary, Madame Tussaud's likeness of a sassy old woman. I had to go in for a closer look...and a close-up shot.

The realism is uncanny. Enough to make you stop...and take a picture so you won't forget it.

The Horrors of the Freeze-Thaw Cycle

Old Man Winter has claimed a victim.

My favorite lime green ceramic herb planter.

I left several planters out on the deck because they had perennial plants in them.

Here's what's left of the one with my chives and oregano.

Another stumbling block in my fruitless quest to develop a green thumb, when in reality I truly have a black one.

Although this wasn't my fault. But still...

Sigh...

I'm quite done with winter, thank you very much.

It's Da Bomb!

Astrobomb, that it is.

A decadently beautiful...not to mention TASTY...creation from the cocktail mixing of my friend, Darren.

Vodka, melon liquer, raspberry liquer...working on the theory that the raspberry is the heaviest liquor, the melon the next heaviest and the vodka the lightest. It all aligns in the glass beautifully...as it should. And tastes just like the real thing.

True genius.

Red-Hot Rivals

Two Cleveland boys. Two jerseys.

Two completely different ideas of what team should rule the NFL.

Can this friendship last? Or is it doomed from the start?

Is intermingling between fans of these teams even allowed?
Anyone care to share a verdict? :)

Diving into an Extra Dirty Martini

This is the remains of the delicious extra dirty vodka martini (with three sizeable bleu cheese-stuffed olives, thank you very much!) that I enjoyed during a pre-dinner cocktail hour at my friends' Darren and Missy's house last night.

THIS is where some of it ended up.

Typical.

You can dress me up, but you can't take me anywhere. At least not without one of my trusty Tide to Go pens in my posession.

Double Double Toil and Trouble

This...is my coven.

We can magically make tasty appetizers, several bottles of delicious bordeaux and Harry & David Moose Munch disappear into oblivion.

ABRACADABRA!

I've been a bad, bad girl...

I've been careless with a responsible day!

I woke up under the weather. I was going to stay home all day and catch up on freelance work.

And, while by the end of the day, I had accomplished this mission, my original good intentions did get somewhat derailed at the start.

I went shopping instead.

I bought a pair of the jeans pictured. And a ridculously marked-down cardigan sweater.

I did not buy the weird little bear on my shoulder.

Ty and I found him on the floor. We thought he needed to be cheered up.

Now he's famous. Well...almost.

Duran Duran, Part 2: A little UberFAN backstory

First, I wanted to share this. I discovered this hilarious (at least it is to me) picture on my camera phone from the Monday Duran Duran meet and greet.

It took me a minute to figure out what it is.

The brown shape is part of Mary leaping out of her seat to hug Simon Lebon. You can somewhat see the top of his head next to the radio station employee in the red blouse. I had been trying to snap his picture when the commotion next to me began... and Mary got her long-dreamed about hug. It's blurry because I nearly dropped the camera when I realized what she was so brazenly doing. You go girl!

While at happy hour this evening with some work friends, I was sharing this story and the pictures over appetizers and drinks. And...I revealed to them one fact I didn't mention in my earlier post: I actually was the one who got the whole ball rolling for this adventure.

Last Thursday afternoon, I got my weekly email of events from the radio station. The subject line had something to the effect of "Meet Duran Duran." I opened it out of curiosity. Those who wanted to meet the 80s heartthrobs could write an essay saying why. I forwarded on to Mary in jest.

Well...guess what...the next morning, I got this email:

From: Mary

Date: February 1, 2008 10:01:44 AM EST
To: Robin S.
Subject: Re: Wanna Meet Duran Duran?
I entered the contest. If I win I'll shit my pants. I need to lose 30 lbs. by Monday.

So then, later in the day, I get a text asking me what I was doing on Monday. Turns out she mentioned her entry to her friend who works at the station. Her friend said she would put Mary and a friend on the meet and greet list for sure, and Mary then pulled out of the running in the essay contest to allow another fan the chance to win. However, we did learn that she was indeed a contender. Apparently her testimonial as to why she needed to meet Duran Duran was quite convincing. Not surprising. She was an English major.

And now you're probably wondering, "What on earth DID she write." So, here...on the suggestion of my work friends who admit they are dying to read the essay and Mary's good nature, is her original entry:

-----Original Message-----

From: mary

Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 09:34 PM Eastern Standard Time

To: RADIO Promotions

Subject: PLEASE LET ME MEET DURAN DURAN!!!F

I have been a loyal fan of Duran Duran since they released their first album back in 1981.

When I was 14, I had each of the four walls in my bedroom entirely covered with pictures of each band member that I had cut out from magazines like "Tiger Beat" (except Andy, because I didn't like him). Nick Rhodes was always my favorite - his image was plastered all over the wallright next to my bed, so I could kiss him goodnight. John Taylor, SimonLeBon and Roger Taylor each had walls devoted to them as well.

I was absolutely certain, although I was barely a teenager at the time, that Nick Rhodes would instantly dump his model girlfriend/wife at the time if he'd only met me! Maybe this is still true?! :-) Unlike many of my teenage pop star and celebrity crushes, however, I never outgrew my love for Duran Duran. I am now happily married to a wonderful man and have two young sons, but whenever I hear a Duran Duran song on the radio, or catch one of their videos on television, I turn into a giggly mess again. I love their new album, Red Carpet Massacre, and I'm so grateful that they're still making great music.

PICK ME!

After reading this, I am even more glad I went down to that station with her early Monday morning and could share in her glee. We've gone to many a Duran Duran concert together...this was the icing on the cake of our 25+ year friendship.

Ankle Deep in "The Red Carpet Massacre"

My childhood friend, Mary, has been a die-hard Duran Duran fan for almost as long as she has had double digits in her age. I, too, have been a fan over the years...I still go see them when they come to town, have upgraded my scratchy vinyl LPs and battered cassette tapes for CDs of their albums and secretly wish I had kept my "7 and the Ragged Tiger" tour t-shirt.

But...Mary is a FAN (note the all-capital letters). So when we found out two of the band members, lead singer Simon LeBon and keyboardist Nick Rhodes (Mary's all-time favorite) were going ot be a local radio station doing promo for their new album, The Red Carpet Massacre, as well as a meet and greet, Mary knew she had to be there.

And we were! Turns out her next door neighbor and friend works at the station. She got us on the list for the meet and greet. When we got there, we were herded into a little conference room at the tiny station offices with about 10 other people...various contest winners and their friends. We were the outcasts in the waiting area, as we KNEW someone at the station and obviously used this connection for our own greater good.

As we waited, Mary got increasingly nervous. Her neighbor came in and asked her if she wanted to go into the live studio with them, and panicking, she said no. The meet and greet would be enough for her to handle. Mono y mono was far too intimidating.

After the better part of 90 minutes, a promotions guy comes in and says, it's time. Simon LeBon bursts through the door and says, "Well, hellooooooo...what can I do for you?" Very charming guy, by the way. Anyhow, Mary immediately comes out of her stunned coma, leaps out of her chair and says, quite boldy, to the envy of all the other aging fans there, "Well, you can start by giving me a big hug."



So he did. And here's what she looked like afterwards... classic. Completely stunned. Completely starstruck. And believe me...she has dreamed about this moment since we were in junior high school together. "He hugged me," she said. "He hugged me." I couldn't stop laughing because I was still seeing her leaping out of her chair when he walked in.


Patiently, we waited our turn in line to have our one item signed. I had my Rio CD in hand (long since upgraded from my scratchy vinyl album, which has gone MIA at some point over the years) and Mary had the new CD. We also got to have a snuggly (and believe me, Simon was a little too snuggly for his own good) photo opp...but again, oh-so-charming. My brush with teenage fantasy come to life, 20+ years too late!

We were only allowed one photo each, so I am breaking my camera phone-only rules here so I can post the group shot, which was taken on my much-higher-quality 7 megapixel digital camera.

Simon, me, Mary and Nick. We've come a long way from Hudson High and our DD pictures in our lockers, baby!

Squeal like a Guinea Piggie...

Evan and I have decided guinea pigs are the world's most useless pets.

We've arrived at this conclusion after visiting countless pet stores and attempting to pet the cute little things. You wander over to the bin where they all hang out. They see you and start uttering these terrified little squeals. WHEEEEET! WHEEET!

Then...you stick your hand in the pen in the attempt to pet one. I mean, after all, if you are going to shell out the $15 or $20 one of these ridiculous things cost, don't you think you should get one that likes to be held and pet and lavished with affection?

To date, I have not met one that does. They see the hand and go completely insane. Squealing horrifically loud. Running like crazed little rats.


Look at them!Climbing over each other. Tripping. Trying to hide. Who wants a pet like that? Look at them...running from Evan's hand. Pure terror. They think he's going to kill them. That he's going to put them on a spit and roast them over a fire.


Do we want a pet that is afraid of us? No way. Give us a dog any old day. We'd even take a cat, and we're not cat people!

Maybe I'm being too harsh, but I have yet to meet a guinea pig that has prompted me to change my firm opinion: They are worthless, unaffectionate pets that certainly aren't worth the $20 bill I'd have to shell out to get one!

Even a hamster's friendlier than a guinea pig. It's a better pet, and from me (not a hamster fan) that's saying a lot!

A Startling New Era

For years, Evan has only ordered chicken tenders at restaurants

It doesn't matter where we go -- Asian, American, Mexican -- chicken tenders. The only deviation from this is at Italian joints. There he'll get cheese sticks and a pizza.

All of the baby books I read while pregnant said if you are a good eater and introduce your baby to a variety of foods at a young age, they'll be good eaters. What a bunch of crap. I'm a good eater. My husband is a good eater. We gave Evan all sorts of food, which he ate and liked. Until he turned 2. Then it became all about chicken...tenders. I have consistently felt like I have failed as a parent in that arena.

Recently however, we've had an interesting development...he discovered the beauty of burgers. Now granted, a good burger to Evan is one that is a patty, bun and ketchup, but still...it's not chicken tenders. And I fully realize it's not steamed broccoli, a crisp green salad or something else remarkably healthy. But it's something different...and that's a big thing.

Last night, we had a remarkable turn of events. We went to dinner. He got to choose the place. He picked Chili's (we had a gift card for that/Macaroni Grill so the options were limited). He examined the menu...and chose a burger! I nearly fell out of my seat in surprise, as I figured he'd go with the usual there or anywhere we would have ended up.

Now...I will note that he pulled off the top bun, ate the patty with a knife and fork, a la George Costanza, and then ate the top bun separately, leaving the bottom bread in the little serving basket.

We can work on that. I'm just thrilled the liberation from chicken tenders has begun.

I wonder when I can start pushing salad or veggies? Or would my luck be the only thing I'd be pushing?