I wanted to title this post, “Dear Parents With Special Needs Children Who Are Active In Their Children’s Lives and Advocate For Their Kids”, but that was a little too long. Rest assured, though, this post is for you.
All I want to say is, I think you’re rad.
Well, that’s not all I want to say, but that’s the overall theme of this letter.
I don’t hang out in the special needs parenting community terribly often, because I’m not a parent; rather, I’m an adult with an autism spectrum condition. Sometimes I click on special-needs-parenting things that catch my eye. When I do, I occasionally-to-often see heated arguments about topics like person-first language, various therapies, studies, treatments, parenting methods, et cetera. While I know that you’re all looking for the right way to help your kids, it makes me a little sad to see. I understand why these discussions happen and are necessary; this isn’t a plea to stop discussing these issues.
Rather, I was thinking that, with all of the debates that happen, it’s probably really easy to start being down on yourself because you don’t have all of the right answers and you know it’s really important to have as many right answers as you can. To doubt yourself because there are so many differing opinions, and even just because you’re human and prone to mistakes, tiredness, and emotional roller-coasters. In case nobody has told you lately, I just want to tell you that you’re doing an awesome job as a parent.
Really! You are!
My parental situation sucked when I was growing up. My dad was so un-invested in anything that wasn’t my report card that he actually turned me down when, in 5th grade, I told him that I was depressed and I needed help. Just flat-out said no. This could have been a significant turning point in my life if I’d actually gotten help (and maybe an early diagnosis), but *shrug*. He didn’t hesitate to tell me I was stupid or put me down if I screwed up something that most NT people would know to do or not to do. He always expected me to be “normal,” if not “excellent”; I constantly disappointed him because I’m not “normal.” I sort of grew up in the song “Daughter” by Pearl Jam.
(This letter may or may not have been inspired by the fact that “Daughter” came on while I was in the car on the way home from work. Okay, it totally was.)
Try not to have all the feels.
If you’re actually trying to make a good life for your kid and trying to do things that will be healthy and good for them? If you show your kids you love them? You’re doing great; never doubt that. I see so many parents that I know are great parents just because they care enough to be involved and to learn about their kid’s condition(s). No matter if you have off days, no matter if you don’t make the kind of progress that you were hoping with this or that, no matter if you don’t get it all perfect, you’re doing great. Believe it. (PS, this applies if you have non-special-needs children, too.)
And, thank you. Maybe your little ones can’t tell you that yet; maybe they never will be able to tell you that, but, it makes a huge difference. All the difference in the world. I see a lot of really happy kids and I’m really happy that they’ve had it better than I did. I’m also thanking you from me because you’re giving me a better example to live by when I have kids of my own… and partially for bolstering my faith in humanity in general, because lemme tell ya, I need that from time to time.
So, don’t get so bogged down in debate that you forget that you’re all already doing a great job, differences aside. Pat yourself, and each other, on the back. You deserve it.
Go hug your kids for me (if they like hugs), okay? Hugs are the best.
Recently, our beloved Community Manager, Christina, stepped down from her position. (We’ll miss you, Christina!) The position of Columbus Community Manager is a spot that, in my mind, only one person could possibly fill.
Meet Bryant Miller.
As a Yelper, I can’t imagine a better candidate for Community Manager than Bryant. Not only because he’s adorable (isn’t he adorable?), but because he has an amazing skill set that would translate perfectly into this position.
Bryant has a huge heart, a warm personality, and a great sense of humor–this makes him a great event host and a wonderful community ambassador! I may be biased as to Bryant’s general awesomity, being his friend and all, but his delightfulness is one of the reasons we are friends! I think the Yelp community here in Columbus will love him, too–I mean, most of us already do.
Bryant is already extremely active in the Yelp community and the Columbus community in general. A Community Manager needs to be “plugged in” to the city, and Bryant is more connected than anybody I know. He attends Yelp events, street fairs and festivals, openings of new local businesses (even if they’re expanding into other cities!), and community events such as Pride. He writes hundreds of reviews and goes out of his way to shop local whenever he can. Visit the albums of past Elite events, and you’ll see Bryant smiling in the photos.
Bryant is a Columbus expert and never quits adding to his knowledge. Want a recommendation for a new place to try? Need to know where to go in town to get something specific? Bryant can tell you! If there’s a hidden gem, he knows it. Even if it’s brand new, odds are he’s already been. He has the knowledge and the passion to be a great CM.
A good CM needs to be able to organize and plan events. Bryant can do that! Not only does Bryant thoughtfully plan events for friends and family–no friend of Bryant’s goes without a baby shower, birthday outing, or a feel-better brunch when they’re down–but he also, along with current Community Manager Christina and others, helped found Columbus SOUP, a local organization that puts on quarterly soup dinners and gives the proceeds to a local cause. The first SOUP event was packed! Over a hundred people attended (including yours truly). If he can help make an organization’s inaugural event such a smashing success, he can make Yelp events successful, too!
A great CM is creative and adventurous, and so is Bryant! Bryant isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty (sometimes literally!) planning a broad range of events for people to enjoy. He’s just as comfortable picking strawberries on a farm as he is with a locally-sourced cocktail in his hand. By planning events that many different types of people would enjoy, Bryant can help attract even more people to Yelp! His world travels (yep, world!) will also help bring interesting new ideas to the mix.
Yelp needs community managers who are social-media savvy. Bryant has experience in that! Bryant not only has worked for a large company’s social media division, he has managed a whole team of people who directly talk with customers via social media. Afraid of social media boo-boos? That’ll never happen when Bryant is there! He also knows how to use social media effectively and represent a major brand in public.
Bryant can write! And he has experience writing marketing materials for major companies! At his current place of employment, Bryant has been tapped more than once to put together magazines meant to be distributed to hundreds of people; keeping up with the Yelp newsletters and writing materials to promote events will be right up his alley! Bryant’s writing is full of genuine voice that is entertaining, sincere, sometimes funny and sometimes heartfelt. But you don’t have to take my word for it–he’s written 373 reviews (and counting) for Yelp that showcase his ability.
So, why am I writing this blog post in support of Bryant Miller as Columbus Community Manager? Admittedly, I love Bryant–but it’s still not that often that a friend writes a public love letter to try to get another friend hired for a job. It’s not just that I love Bryant; I also love Yelp! (I’m a Yelper, too!) And I love Columbus. And I love being involved in Yelp in Columbus, which means that I want the best community manager I can possibly think of to facilitate Yelp Columbus. That person is unquestionably Bryant, so I hope you consider making him the next CM in Columbus, Ohio.
Susie, a Columbus Elite Yelper
So, for starters, if this information is new to you, I AM FINE. I did not at all get hurt. I was not going much more than 25 mph (if over at all, but let’s be real, I could have been going like 28. I’M BORING AND I DON’T SPEED) even before I slammed on my brakes, which I immediately did. I AM OKAY.
I was driving to work this morning. The first big-ish intersection that I come to is my street (we’ll call it Avenue M), which is a one-way, and Avenue B, which is a two way. Avenue B is subject to a two-way stop; Avenue M is not subject to a stop at all. HOWEVER, this is a recent change. There once was a traffic signal–your basic red-yellow-green style traffic light–at that intersection. Now, the signals are covered in black plastic, and signs saying “This signal is under study for removal” were installed. Stop signs face the appropriate directions on Avenue B, with big yellow signs underneath that say “Cross traffic does not stop.”
I was cross-traffic and I did not have a stop.
Still, because people are not always super-bright, I generally keep a lookout for drivers who look like they might be creepin’ through the intersection. Or confused. Or whatever. This lady was totally stopped, she didn’t seem to be uncertain, so I was breezing through the intersection like it wasn’t no thang until she decided it was her turn. Just as I was entering the intersection.
Slammed the brakes, laid on the horn. Still hit the rear side panel of her car.
I stayed still for a moment, with about a zillion things going through my mind. Nothing panicky, for once–mostly, “Oh my god, I’m going to be late for work and I’m opening the store. I don’t have my managers’ numbers. What do I do?” Then I swung onto Avenue B and parked, found my insurance card, and got out of the car.
The lady was not OLD old, but older. She and her friend were from–Africa? The Caribbean? Their accents sounded tropical and strong. They both started yelling at me. “Why didn’t you stop? WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP?”
” . . . . because I didn’t have a stop?”
“BUT LOOK. Everybody else is stopping!”
” . . . . but I didn’t have a stop? You had a stop. See, it says ‘Cross traffic does not stop.’”
“BUT I DID STOP! I STOPPED!”
“Well, ma’am, you have to stay stopped until traffic is clear. That’s how a stop sign works.”
“But you came out of nowhere! I didn’t see you!”
“Well, you should have looked harder!”
These are all actual things that came out of our mouths. And yes, I had to explain, as patiently as I could, HOW A FUCKING STOP SIGN WORKS.
She called the police while her friend yelled at me some more.
“I walk here every day! People stop! EVERY DAY I AM WALKING HERE.” [because, living a block and a half away on the actual street on which I was driving, I'm NEVER there myself . . .]
“LOOK THEY ARE STOPPING THEY ARE STOPPING RIGHT NOW THAT PERSON JUST STOPPED LOOK LOOK”
“But. I. Did. Not. Have. A. Stop. I was under no obligation to stop. I didn’t have to stop and look for your friend because I DID NOT HAVE A STOP SIGN. SHE WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO GO UNTIL I PASSED.”
(Granted, if I’d had time, I would have stopped rather than hitting her. It’s not like I wanted to be in a car accident and be late for work.)
When the police rolled up, the ladies were sitting in their car, presumably calming down. We’d already exchanged information, and my stroke of luck was that I got to talk to him first, so we didn’t have to go through the arguing-like-five-year-olds stage of dealing with this accident again.
“So, what happened?”
“I was coming through the intersection on Avenue M. She went in front of me as I was passing through the intersection. I tried to stop but I couldn’t in time.”
“You didn’t have to stop.”
He took our information and let me leave. She didn’t have a current insurance card (she assured me that her insurance was current . . . frankly, I probably won’t get my piece of shit car fixed, so I personally couldn’t give two fucks about it), so she might have gotten a ticket or whatever. Maybe an additional one for running the sign. Don’t know, don’t care. Am out of fucks to give.
On the upside, Progressive Insurance as just been delightful to work with. I did get one person on the phone who sounded like working for them had sucked her soul out of her body, but the woman who actually handled my claim laughed at my jokes, which counts for pretty much everything, really. My insurance rate shouldn’t go up at all. I pretty much win at being in accidents, as much as you can win at being in an accident. Unless winning means you are in the worst accident, and then I lose, but I’m okay with it either way.
The downside is that my car has a gnarly splinter coming out of the bumper now. I just know I will find a way to injure myself on it and maybe give myself tetanus or something. I already had a little dent there from where I hit a stationary object once (cough), so it kind of all matches now. The paint scrape from her car really brings the scene together.
TL;DR: I’m fine, the lady I hit didn’t know how to stop sign, my car is not that much more shitty than it was, and life is going on.
The phrase “the customer is always right” is bandied around in a number of ways that may make it seem like… well… whatever the customer does, that is always right. Originally, that phrase was introduced to indicate to employees that they should do whatever they can to make sure the customer is satisfied, rather than sending them away frustrated and unhappy. This is good business.
One could, I suppose, if one were inclined, interpret the phrase to mean that customers can do whatever they want all the time and that they’re always right to do so. This reminds me of the saying, “If a person is nice to you, but not nice to the waiter, they’re not a nice person.” Abusing a customer service policy to act shitty toward real, live human beings isn’t the nicest thing, even if one is “entitled” to do so.
Wonder if you’re being a jerk when you’re in a store? Let’s find out.
Instead of putting something back where it belongs, or leaving it somewhere obvious where it will be found, you hide it to cover up the fact that you didn’t put it back where it belongs.
Ha, I bet you thought I was going to say, “You don’t put things back where they belong,” didn’t you? I’ve worked all manner of retail, and honestly, I’ve gotten used to the fact that as long as I work in a retail environment, I will be cleaning up after customers. In some stores, I’ve even left merchandise in the wrong places, myself, because honestly? I’m not trekking all the way back across a giant store to put one item back. Sorry ’bout it. (If it’s a smaller store or I’m still in the area, I will put it back, of course. But some stores are too damn big to make multiple cross-store trips.)
But here’s the thing: I expect, as a retailer, to have to clean up certain areas. When I worked as a bookseller, I always knew the kids’ area would be a disaster. I always knew there would be books piled up by the comfortable chairs. What I hated finding were the “surprises”: a stack of magazines hiding on the floor in the back of the business section, or sex books shoved behind some comics. I guess people do this because they’re uncomfortable being seen not putting away their stuff, yet they’re still too busy/lazy/tired to put away their stuff; but hey, if you’re going to leave your mess for me to pick up–and really, I realize some people will, I accept it–please leave it in a place where I can find it easily and not be surprised by it later when I may not have time to deal with it.
You get angry over mistakes that are easily fixed.
I used to work at a well-known coffee chain, and let me tell you, hell hath no fury like a person with a latte scorched. Many people whose drinks weren’t made right the first time got pissed. Off. We’re talking Incredible Hulk levels of pissed. Over coffee.
Look, it takes two minutes to remake your coffee, and most baristas are happy to do it if you treat them like human beings instead of malfunctioning mocha machines. Those baristas didn’t mean to screw up your coffee. The last thing they want is someone in their face about how their latte wasn’t hot enough, or sweet enough, or they didn’t get the dark roast, etc. They also just don’t want people to walk away unsatisfied, if they’re even halfway decent at their jobs.
The same extends to other retail jobs; a problem can often be fixed in ten minutes or less, and a mistake is just that–a mistake. It’s not something that anybody did on purpose to ruin your day. Promise. Plus–would you want your boss jumping your case every time you made a small, easily-fixed mistake? I bet not.
You get mad at me when I ask questions to make sure you are getting what you actually want.
My favorite example of this is the confusion over what a cappuccino is. Because a coffee house cappuccino is this:
which tastes like strong, deliciously bitter-as-fuck coffee and is not at all sweet. Many people who are new to the whole “coffee” thing, though, think of cappuccino as being this:
or sometimes this:
which does not taste anything like the same drink you’re going to get if you order a cappuccino in a coffee house.
When customers seemed to be hesitant about ordering a cappuccino, or they ordered a flavored cappuccino, we would try to feel out whether the customer wanted a real cappuccino or the faux cappuccinos that you get at 7-11. I had one teenage girl spit at me, “I know what I want!” when I politely inquired about her order for a french vanilla cappuccino. So I made a cappuccino with vanilla syrup. The one that tastes like bitter-as-fuck espresso.
It turned out she did not at all know what she wanted. I could tell by the look on her face when she took a drink. If she hadn’t gotten pissed at me, we could have worked it out and she could have gotten exactly what she wanted, which was probably something very sweet and milky and not coffee-tasting. After being a snot, she was too proud to ask me to remake her drink, so she had to suffer with what probably tasted, to her, like battery acid with a hint of vanilla.
The people who work at the stores you’re shopping in usually know quite a bit about what they’re selling, and if they don’t, another associate there does. If you’re buying something or ordering something you’ve never had before, it’s a great idea to ask questions. If they’re asking you questions, it’s because they’ve run into confusion or problems with this particular product many times before and are trying to help you get what you want. No need to be upset.
You don’t know what you want, and you get mad at me because I can’t figure out what you want.
Let’s say you have a problem. Your thingawhatsit is broken, and you read on the internet that if you use a jig-ma-bob in just such a way, it will fix your thingawhatsit. The site says you can buy a jig-ma-bob at my store. So you come into my store looking for a jig-ma-bob. But I have no freaking clue what you’re talking about when you ask me over and over for a jig-ma-bob. I can’t help you find it. You stomp off, angry at me.
I think a lot of people put this down to ignorance. “God, that person who tried to help me was an idiot! Didn’t even know about jig-ma-bobs,” you might huff later. Here’s the thing, though: you just read about the jig-ma-bob on a random website and you may not have all of the information that you need to help the associate help you find it. What if it’s not called a jig-ma-bob at all at my store, but a flargle-forn? And it’s used for something else entirely? And the person who made the website didn’t bother telling you that? But if you had described the problem and what you needed, I probably could have taken you right to the flargle-forn section–or, maybe the person on the internet was full of crap anyway, and what you really needed all along was a sneeble-bog, and I could take you right to those instead.
If the retail person doesn’t understand what you’re asking them for, don’t assume you’re talking to a moron. Try describing the item; or if they’re new, see if there’s a more experienced associate who can help you.
You’ve made a mistake; you still treat me badly as though it were my fault.
How many times have you gone into a store and read the sale signs wrong?
And then, when you got to the register, you didn’t have the right items or they didn’t ring up like you expected. Hey, it happens. Fine print can be easily overlooked. What’s not cool is taking your mistake out on the person behind the counter.
Because I want to be fair, I’ll give an example here where I was on the customer end of the transaction and I made a mistake. (Even retail-savvy persons such as myself–gasp!–make mistakes. It is true.) We checked into a hotel not long ago and I gave them my name–my married name, my current name–for the reservation. The guy behind the counter couldn’t find my reservation. The girl helping him couldn’t find my reservation. I waited patiently.
A supervisor ended up having to call Hotels.com to see what was up; she had them on speakerphone, and I heard very clearly when they said, “Well, we have a reservation for Susan [maiden name].”
Yep. I had totally, utterly forgotten ever to change my Hotels.com information when I got married. In 2009. Usually I print out the reservation so I don’t have to have them search it, which is how this has escaped my attention for almost four years. (Plus, we don’t travel a whole lot.)
Yep, I felt like an idiot.
And yep, I apologized for being an idiot. I wasted their time because I failed to take care of something. I caused them frustration and stress over something that I could have easily taken care of. Many people, out of embarrassment perhaps, not only won’t own up to their mistakes, but take it out on the person behind the counter. Don’t be that person.
You insist on getting discounts or complain about the price.
Hey, look, I have no issue really with people trying to get a better price for things. Ask me once, and I’ll tell you exactly what the deal is: no, I am not authorized to give you a discount unless you have a coupon or you buy a specific combination of items that allows me to give you certain discounts. No, there is no “better price” than what is listed on the tag. I cannot haggle, I cannot barter, I cannot discount other than what I’m authorized to do.
After I tell you all of that, and you keep asking? Dude. It’s not gonna happen–or if it does, if I cave under pressure, you’ll probably get me in trouble. You might even get me fired.
Complaining about the price will also get you nowhere. I don’t mind a little grousing–hey, I work retail, I’m on a budget just like you–but I have people get hostile with me over prices. Guess what? I don’t set the prices. I have zero control over prices. For that, you’ll either want to talk to an owner or corporate headquarters. And your feedback about the prices goes exactly nowhere after you get shitty with me about it; nobody’s acting on your complaint. Corporate does not call me up to chat and ask, “Hey, so, how are customers reacting to our prices lately?” This is a thing that does not happen. You’re blowing steam all over me when I have absolutely nothing to do with why you’re angry and cannot, in fact, fix your problem. Thanks a bunch.
You talk on your cell phone while trying to interact with retail employees.
Just don’t. Don’t. If I can possibly get away with it, I won’t even look at you if you’re on your phone. It’s not just that it’s rude, it’s that it’s SO difficult to keep up with a conversation when you’re talking to someone else the entire time. You’re either not listening, or I can’t tell when you’re talking to me or talking to the other person. Hang up the phone. Please.
You snap, with your fingers, at me to get my attention.
I’m not a dog, thanks.
You interrupt me when I’m with another customer.
Retail is first come, first serve. If you’re in a hurry, you’re welcome to come back later or another day; I will not, however, tolerate you pushing another customer aside in order to be served more quickly. You wouldn’t tolerate it if someone did that to you, I know it.
You pull a bait-and-switch by pretending you’re interested in buying something when you really want a different service.
The other day, a young man came in and wanted to buy a watch band for his watch. His watch was also broken; it was under warranty, so no problem, we could fix it. For some reason, he felt like he had to pretend he was super-interested in buying a $50 watch so that I would change his band and fix his watch.
That’s my job, yo. I’m going to fix your watch. You don’t have to pretend like you’re going to be a big spender to get me to do my job–and if you’re shopping somewhere where that’s the case, it’s a shitty place to shop and you should find another company that treats you better. And really, he wasted my time making me get out watches for him to try on that he had no intention of ever buying, which means it took longer for me to get the repairs done, so he wasted both of our time and created work for me later when I had to put all of the watches he tried on back in the case. He ended up spending nine bucks for the band, but it cost me a lot more than it should have in overall time. (This? Is the kind of thing that probably makes prices go up. Just sayin’.)
You don’t listen when I give you important information.
I hate opening in a mall kiosk because people hover. It’s not like in a full-sized store, where you can pull down the grate or lock the doors until you’re ready to open; nay, in a kiosk, you’re out in the open. Even though you’re clearly busy, people still come up to you and ask questions. And I say, because I’m under a time crunch and need to do things within a short time period, “I’m sorry, we’re not open until ten.”
Those people often come back within five or ten minutes. “Sorry, we’re not open until ten.”
“Oh. Well, when do you want me to come back?”
“Uh . . . after ten?”
[Actual customer interaction.]
Or, how about, “Your item has a warranty on this but not that; if that happens, you won’t be able to return it.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” (rings up transaction, customer pays) “So, if that happens I can bring it back, right?”
BONUS: You leave your children unsupervised, or refuse to handle their behavior, and give them the run of my store.
I had intended to include this but COMPLETELY FORGOT! (Thanks to elenafay for bringing it up!)
I have worked in a few places where people bring their children. I work in a mall now and see many, many young kids walking around unsupervised (I mean young, like seven to ten). Retailers are not baby-sitters. We don’t have time to keep an eye on your kids to make sure some creepster doesn’t snatch them up; we don’t have time to clean up the extra messes they make because they’re too young to know not to make messes or to curb their desire to TOUCH ALL THE THINGS; and, frankly, your unsupervised children make the store environment bad for other customers, who don’t want to deal with noisy kids or a messy store.
Also, I don’t want to discipline your kids. I worked at Walmart for a hot minute, in the toy department (yes, it was the worst); people would let their kids ride around the department on bicycles, even after I told them that they weren’t allowed. I explained why they weren’t allowed. Did. Not. Faze. Them. I finally located the mom, who just shrugged when I told her they weren’t allowed to ride the bikes. Really? You’re not going to do anything? I guess since I asked you multiple times, you can handle the brunt of the lawsuit when your kid smashes into some old lady looking for a birthday present for her grandson and causes her to break her hip. She’s in a Walmart, so, I’m sure she won’t want more than a million or so. Good luck with that.
There are many, many, many other ways that people are jerks when shopping; this post is clocking in at some pretty heavy word-count damage, and it’s only the tip of the iceberg. What about you guys? What ticks you off, as a fellow shopper or a retail employee, that people do when shopping?
We took an impromptu trip out of town this weekend, which meant that I was ill-prepared for today. For breakfast/lunch (I slept late), I ended up eating some wrinkly grapes and three tomatoes.
I have been so. hungry. all day.
I’m thinking that planning five whole days of raw food may have been a little extreme, especially since this salad I’m eating would be so much more satisfying with just one little chicken breast. I’m going to cut back to three days for the raw food cleanse, but today has shown me, if nothing else, that I needed to go cold turkey on some stuff. I’ve practically been doing the junkie shuffle all day for a friggin’ cheeseburger.
Which, of course, made grocery shopping hell. Ever since I decided to do this challenge, I’ve been noticing exactly how much crap they sell in grocery stores vs. real food. I’m not saying people should never, ever, ever eat junk food–but if the proportions of processed food to real food that they sell us is the same proportions that we generally eat, it’s easy to see how Americans are fucking ourselves over healthwise.
I also had a moment at the farm stand when I was loading my groceries into the car. I popped a grape tomato in my mouth and . . . it was awful. Like, awful. It took my brain several seconds to comprehend the difference between what I was tasting and what I was expecting to taste. As it turned out, I had simply plucked up a bad one that was rotten in the middle, but for that moment before I spat it out, I wondered not what was wrong with the tomato, but what was wrong with me that the tomato didn’t taste right. I didn’t trust myself at all. I hope that isn’t the case by the end of this month.
I still really wish I had a piece of sj’s cake, though. (Edit: Not that her cake isn’t real food, it’s just that, this raw cleanse thing. And also she is kinda far to give me cake.)
I’ve been thinking about how I want to attack real food month. Like I have said elsewhere, (in the previous post, on Facebook, and on Twitter, specifically) everyone can adjust this challenge to fit your own needs and desires; for me, I have had the realization that my eating is so shitty that I think it would be good for me to start off with a cleanse of sorts. Not so much to cleanse the junk out of my body (although that’s a major side benefit), but to reset my palate. Because zomg, my palate, it’s been so abused.
So, so abused. I’m sorry, mouth.
For the first five days (July 7 – 11), I’m going to go raw again. This will be much better than the time I did this in winter because 1) it’s hot so I am not so fashed about having hot food, 2) it’s summer so I can get good stuff from the farmers markets, and um . . . yeah, I guess that’s about it really. I’m pretty much just going to do fruit, fresh juice, and salads, I think. I’m going to cheat and use vinaigrette for my salads, because I can. My hope is that five days of just eating delicious fresh stuff will be inspiring to me. (Oh, and I’m also going to kick iced tea for the week. I drink it unsweetened and it’s not THAT bad . . . except that I want to get used to enjoying just water again.)
What about you guys? Do you have any plans or goals for real food month?