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Tourism Fail

March 8, 2013

Klondike and I recently spent a few fun- and friend-filled days in my favorite big city, Chicago. We had a marvelous time; how could you not when there’s theater and deep-dish pizza and the original Marshall Field’s store (which I refuse to acknowledge is now a Macy’s)?

It was a thoroughly marvelous time, with one glaring exception: our trip to Shedd Aquarium. The aquarium is wonderful, and we had a splendid time once we got tickets, but actually getting tickets was beyond absurd.

I had scoped out the situation online a few weeks before our trip, but I actually found their site sort of confusing and couldn’t determine what level of ticket we would want, so I figured we would just buy them when we got there, understanding we might have to stand in line for a bit. A bit? HA!

There’s a big plaza in front of the aquarium. When we got there around 12:30 on Saturday, the line extended down the stairs from the entrance, up one side of the square, across, and then back up the other side, in a giant U. I caIMG_4047n’t even begin to guess how many people were waiting. But the line was moving, slowly but steadily, so I felt pretty optimistic in spite of the chilly temps and biting wind. Forty minutes later, we had made it up and across and just had up the last side and up the stairs until the promised land of INDOORS. That’s about when the line stopped moving. Every once in a while there would be a brief forward surge. Slooooooowly across the plaza, finally to the stairs, where there was a tent so we had a little shelter from the wind. Very, very, very slowly up the stairs, and into….the vestibule! More waiting, with no idea what lay beyond. Eventually through the revolving doors into the lobby where we were met with…a rat maze to wait in to buy tickets! Oh, yes, and we were greeted with a sign telling us that all the aquatic shows for the day were sold out. Total time to get in and buy tickets? Approximately 2.5 hours.

The facility kept throwing salt on the wound, too. We went to put our coats into a bank of lockers that only accepted quarters, and the change machine was out of service. We wanted to buy a soda, and the machine wouldn’t accept cash (out of service) – we had to use a credit card. To buy a soda.

In the end we had a great time; the jellies exhibit was super cool, and how can you not love seeing dolphins and beluga whales and otters and penguins and turtles and sea horses? But it felt like perhaps the least tourist-friendly tourist attraction I’ve ever been to. Oh, and did I mention that if we had purchased our tickets online the day we went, there would have been a FIFTEEN DOLLAR SURCHARGE? Each. I live someplace where everything is cheap, so maybe I just had Big City sticker shock. To find out, I did a little comparison shopping of the other big attractions in Chicago.

Art Institute: $23 ($2.50 service charge for online purchase)
Museum of Science & Industry: $18  (add ons for special exhibits = $8 each)
Field Museum: $15 basic / all access $30 ($2.50 online order fee)
Adler Planetarium: $12 basic (all exhibits, no shows) or $28 full access plus two shows (can’t buy online?)
Shedd: $8 basic, but that doesn’t include half the exhibits and you can’t add the jellies exhibit (which costs more) to that ticket. $28.95 for all exhibits PLUS $3 for jellies. Also, $4 for aquatic show, which was sold out.
Total experience = $34.95, but IF PURCHASED ONLINE THE SAME DAY AS YOUR VISIT it’s $49.95

So yeah, Shedd is steep. To feel so under-appreciated as a visitor was a drag for almost seventy bucks.

A reasonable person might be thinking right about now, “Hey, it was Saturday, they were busy, good for them, how could they help how long the line was?”

I’m so glad you asked!

Here are some of the ideas that occurred to us during our hours-long wait that they could have done to improve the experience. To those of you at the Shedd who are surely reading this, please feel free to claim these ideas as your own. Be a hero in the office.

  • Encourage more people to buy tickets online ahead of time. If the website had told me to expect a 2+-hour wait, I would have worked harder to figure out which tickets we wanted.
  • You know those signs they have at Cedar Point and probably every other amusement park in the world that say, “Your wait from this point in line is 8 million years”? GET ONE. If we had known what we were getting ourselves into, we might have bailed. Of course, we’d just paid $19 to park the car, so maybe not. But at least we would have been informed.
  • You know those aquarium employees or volunteers or whoever they were who walked around outside periodically surveying the line? They could share information, like announcing things like the aquatic shows being sold out, in case that was a deal-breaker for anyone. Or, ‘’Hey, we know it’s cold, we’re glad you’re here, hopefully you’ll be inside soon (although we really have no idea because we run an inefficient operation).”
  • You could give out wristbands or tickets or numbers or something so we could go sit in our car to stay warm for the first hour or so.
  • Make us aware of the Go to the Head of the Line option sooner (rather than after you’re already 2/3 of the way through the line), especially if you’re going to charge 50% more for that option.
  • You could – hold on, this is a wild idea – HAVE MORE PEOPLE SELLING TICKETS ON BUSY DAYS, like, say, Saturdays. As far as we could tell, the only reason it took so long to get in was because it took so long for tickets to be purchased. Perhaps you were at capacity at some point. I have absolutely no idea because you provided zero information.
  • Act like you’re happy to see us. When we finally make it to the person waiting to take lots of money from us, have her acknowledge how nice it was for us to wait so long to see your fishies.
  • Make sure once we’re inside, everything is PERFECT. If that means loading more quarters into the change machine by the lockers midway through the day, do it. It’s not rocket science, people, it’s customer service.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s when someone treats a captive audience like that’s what they are. Be better than that. Wow me with how well you handle the situation rather than shrugging your shoulders and letting us stew and fret. In the end, we spent as much time waiting to get in as we did enjoying the exhibits. And we did enjoy the exhibits. Really, truly. I highly recommend the aquarium. I also highly recommend buying your tickets in advance. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

And here are some pretty pictures to offset my angst. 🙂

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Category:

Soapbox, Travel

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“They move around a lot.”

February 20, 2013

The Avett Brothers were in town last week, and as you may or may not recall, I got tickets for Klondike (and me) for Valentine’s Day. (He was totally fake-surprised.) Some might say, “Gee, she got HIM tickets for a concert SHE wanted to see….”  Fortunately, Klondike likes it that I’m selfish. Wait. No. That’s not what I meant. Never mind, that’s not what this post is about. 😛

Anyway, I was right, back in the last post when I was supposing that the concert would be something to see. They put on a spectacular show. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.

A friend who has been a long-term fan of the Avetts had said something a few days before the concert that I thought was kind of odd. “You know, they move around a lot.”  Um….ok. It’s not as though I haven’t been to a concert before. I’m familiar with the idea of a live performance compared to….I don’t know, the radio?

Yeah. No. They move around a lot.

I have been to concerts where they put on a good, lively show. I feel like I saw Billy Joel climb partway up the rigging or something many moons ago.  But I have never seen someone gambol about a stage while playing a freaking cello. Not a guitar. Not a banjo. A CELLO. Well, never until last week. There was much bouncing and dancing and wild hair flinging and general music-making mayhem by all. With some low-key, pretty songs interspersed. In short, it rocked.

I will say, there were some other things that set this apart as a unique concert experience for me. I sort of felt that they let us in by mistake. I’m pretty sure everyone else in the sold-out audience was president of the fan club, whereas Klondike and I just enjoy their music and a good show. It seemed that every song they played was everybody’s favorite.  You know how everyone sings along with Billy Joel when he plays “Piano Man”? Every. Song. was a singalong. Almost to the point of being annoying – I didn’t come to hear you sing, I came to hear them sing. EVERY SONG. It was so peculiar. (ps, I tried to come up with an example other than Billy Joel to show some diversity in my concert-going history, but nothing captured it better than “Piano Man” did. Trust me when I say I’ve been to lots of concerts across a wide spectrum of musical genres.)

This also was an evening to be reminded that I am old and out of practice. I haven’t been to a concert in, oh, a while. I forgot that they don’t necessarily start on time. The other things I buy tickets for, like theater and sports, are pretty precise with the timing. Concerts, not so much. I also forgot that there is always an opening act, even if they don’t tell you there will be. And the standing – it never once occurred to me that we would stand the entire time. Old. Out of practice. Sigh….

But all in all, an outstanding (snicker) experience, and I’m quite happy that I didn’t miss the boat.

For your enjoyment.

Please note, they’re quite restrained (and short-haired) in this clip. It’s not to illustrate my points, I just really love this song. 🙂

Category:

Music, Relationships

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What’s on tap?

February 13, 2013

Until yesterday, I had never taken a dance lesson ever my life, unless you count things like when you’re forced to square dance in gym class in grade school.

Oh my god, that is a total lie. Before we were married, my ex-husband (of course, he was my fiancé then – I really get tripped up on terminology talking about someone whose status has changed) and I took ballroom dance lessons for about a year. I can do approximately two steps in each of the following: waltz, fox trot, cha cha, rumba, samba and polka. I can do maybe six swing steps – enough to show off at weddings. I can’t believe I forgot about that.

Let me try this again. I never took dance lessons as a kid. I’m not necessarily what you would call coordinated, or full of rhythm. And it wasn’t anything I had a burning desire to do.  I tried (and quickly abandoned) gymnastics, took lessons and played lots of tennis, went to photography and journalism summer programs, but don’t ever recall asking for dance lessons. (You’re welcome, Mom.)

As an adult, I have developed a fascination with tap. I just think it’s super cool. How can you not love the click click click?  So when Sunshine emailed some of the girls and asked who might be interested in exploring tap lessons, I was STOKED. Me, me, pick me, I’ll do it!!!!! I don’t even know what sparked the idea for her, but I’m so glad it was tap she wanted to try and not….anything else.  A crew of 5 brave souls was assembled. We purchased shoes. (I AM GOING TO WEAR THEM EVERYWHERE!!!!) And last night, we had our first class with Miss Anna.  (I’m not 100% positive her name is Anna. Let’s just say it is….nope, it’s Donna. Sorry Miss Donna!)

I was stupidly excited as I cruised across town to the school where our class is. How often do you get to do something new and goofy and fun, with a gang of cool peeps? Not often enough, in my world.

It was such a hoot; I had a total ball, and I can’t wait till next week’s class. As soon as I got home I put my shoes back on so I could bop around the house practicing what we’d learned. And fucking it up horribly. 😉  I’m really good at pretending I know how to tap, though. Just ask Ruby. I can make a lot of clatter with my tap shoes. I’m pretty sure that’s a sign I’m going to be awesome. Plus, tap dancers often look kind of stiff and awkward in their upper body, and I already have that part down pat. I’m totally a natural. 😛  In fact, I’m so good at holding my upper body still – some might say clenched – that my neck and shoulders were totally stiff and sore. I think it was from concentrating so. dang. hard. on what my feet were doing.

Anyway, this is my new adventure. I’ll keep you posted on when and where we’ll be making our big performance debut – bwahah!

Jon, one of the troupe members (yes, we’re a troupe goddammit!), sent me this video. I’m pretty sure this is where I’m headed. Ruby is a little more dubious.

 

(Can you believe how patient that dog must’ve been to learn that????)

Tap on, my friends!

Category:

Friendship, Just W

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Let there be soup!

February 10, 2013

My mom does not cook with a crockpot. There is no commentary in that, it’s just a statement of fact, by way of explaining that I don’t know how to use a crockpot. Most of my cooking foundation comes from what I grew up with, which I assume is true for a lot of us.

When I got married, he wanted to register for a crockpot, so we did, and we got one. I still didn’t know what to do with it. Amazingly, he did. He would throw some things into it before leaving for work, and when we came home at the end of the day, presto, the house would smell amazing and there was a roast with yummy carrots and potatoes. Like magic! During the treaty discussions of The Great War I certainly never made a play for the crockpot; clearly it belonged with him, when he could wrest such deliciousness from it and I had yet to unlock its mysterious charms.

Jump to Thanksgiving night a few years ago. I was chilling on the couch in jammies (duh) flipping through the Black Friday ads just to see what the popular deals were that year. I am not a Black Friday shopper. I don’t get up at four in the morning for anything, certainly not to stand in line at Big Box Nation to get a good deal on something electronic. I used to joke that Black Friday discriminates against night owls – I wouldn’t get up early to shop, but I might stay up late to shop, if there were any reason to. And then lo and behold, I discovered that Walmart (I know, I know – trust me, I only shop there about once every two years) had midnight deals. Nothing too exciting, just something to keep people occupied and in the store till the actual deals kicked in. Including a crockpot for $9.99. Also a coffeepot for $9.99, something else I didn’t have (or have much need for, because coffee is foul, but sometimes I have company).  So I decided what the hell, pulled on clothes (even I don’t wear jammies to Walmart), and ventured out. They were handing out maps showing where in the store to find the deals – crockpots, for example, were on a pallet in the middle of women’s clothing – wha ha? Maybe this is a typical Black Friday tactic to confuse and make people move throughout the store? Whatevs, map in hand, I found the pots, coffee and crock. I picked up a baby crock for another $3.99 – what the hay. I was back in jammies on my couch by 1. Not too shabby.

Fast forward again to 2013. My lovely crockpots are sitting in the basement, still waiting for some action. I have used the big once or twice to warm up things like cocktail meatballs for a party, but that doesn’t count. I want the magic of food that makes itself! Conveniently, one of the recipe enewsletters I subscribe to sent me a recipe for a magical self-making chicken taco soup that sounded like a good first adventure. And guess what – it worked! I threw a bunch of stuff into the crockpot, I left it alone all day, and poof! it made dinner! It was not too shabby, either. A little spicier than I like my food, but I’m a wuss. I don’t eat sour cream (gack!) but I can understand how it would go with this. I froze a large bowl for another day, and took to some over to a friend’s house too. (Finding crockpot recipes for one might be a challenge – any suggestions?) But I like sharing food so I can roll with it.

The recipe comes from allrecipes.com, but here it is for your lazy bastards who can’t do your own internet searches. 😉 In case you want it.
 

Slow-Cooker Chicken Taco Soup

  •     1 onion, chopped
  •     1 (16 ounce) can chili beans
  •     1 (15 ounce) can black beans
  •     1 (15 ounce) can whole kernel corn, drained
  •     1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce
  •     1 (12 fluid ounce) can or bottle beer
  •     2 (10 ounce) cans diced tomatoes with green chilies, undrained
  •     1 (1.25 ounce) package taco seasoning
  •     3 whole skinless, boneless chicken breasts
  •     shredded Cheddar cheese (optional)
  •     sour cream (optional)
  •     crushed tortilla chips (optional)
  1. Place the onion, chili beans, black beans, corn, tomato sauce, beer, and diced tomatoes in a slow cooker. Add taco seasoning, and stir to blend. Lay chicken breasts on top of the mixture, pressing down slightly until just covered by the other ingredients. Set slow cooker for low heat, cover, and cook for 5 hours.
  2. Remove chicken breasts from the soup, and allow to cool long enough to be handled. Stir the shredded chicken back into the soup, and continue cooking for 2 hours. Serve topped with shredded Cheddar cheese, a dollop of sour cream, and crushed tortilla chips, if desired.

chicken taco soup
THAT’S IT! TWO STEPS! Presto, soup!!!! (Yeah, my mind is easily blown.)

Next time I make it I’ll try some modifications. No chili beans. Maybe some additional black beans, or another bean. Maybe tomatoes without the chilies – I like my food flavorful, but unspicy.  🙂

If you have any favorite crockpot recipes, please share!!

Oh, and ps, the $10-coffeepot was shit, at least according to the people who were served its coffee. My coffee-fiend father had a spare which now lives at my house.  I don’t know how to use it, but it’s here if you want coffee. 😀

Category:

Cooking/Recipes, Food, Kitchen Adventures & Mishaps, Relationships

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Things that annoy the crap out of me

February 7, 2013
  • People who slow down wayyyyyy too much for speed bumps. (As in, almost to a standstill.)
  • The french fries at Steak n’ Shake
  • Nicki Minaj
  • Raspberry seeds. Also, when I get obsessed trying to dislodge a raspberry seed, and I keep trying even when it’s long gone.
  • When I forget that my bra has a teeny, tiny hole in it that allows the underwire to stab me.
  • Anytime someone on a reality TV show references his/her “journey”. Unless it’s The Amazing Race, where they are, in fact, “traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time,” as in the actual definition of the word. Not when they are idiots going on fake dates or quasi-famous people learning to dance.
  • When I don’t throw away the bra with the teeny, tiny hole in it, putting it away to wear again someday.
  • People who treat Facebook like Twitter
  • Twitter
  • When autocorrect changes an ACTUAL WORD to another, no more superior, actual word. (Examples: gave/have, toes/ties, dog/dig)
  • That the laces on that one pair of cute black shoes won’t stay tied. It’s actually just the right shoe. WHY won’t it stay tied??
  • People who talk excessively about gluten.
  • People who are late for yoga on a regular basis.
  • My stupid flipper-shaped size 10.5 feet.
  • The fact that women’s shoes run in half sizes until you get to size 10, at which point they only come in whole sizes.
  • Nicki Minaj. I know. I already said that. But seriously.
  • That some passwords have to be no more than 8 characters long and some have to be at least 13 and some have to have special characters and some canNOT have special characters. How on earth are we supposed to remember which is which is which?
  • When people don’t turn on the turn signal until they’re already turning. It’s so I know you’re going to turn, not that you already are turning – I have eyes.
  • People who invade my space bubble.
  • People who say “wah lah” when they mean “voila”.
  • Couples who share a Facebook profile. Or an email address. Um, hi. Codependent much? THEY’RE FREE. Get your own, you lazy bastard. You’re married, not conjoined.

This list is by no means exhaustive. I’m confident I’ll think of five more things as soon as I hit “publish”. 😀   And I promise I’m not really a cranky bitch; I just needed to share.  (Plus, Nicki Minaj is dreadful and like nails on a chalkboard.)  What’s’ on YOUR list?

Category:

Humor, Just W

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Woot! Spontaneous pie!

January 23, 2013

Today, January 23, is National Pie Day. Says who? Says the American Pie Council. (I know, right? American Pie Council??) I learned this from the morning newspaper. (Yep, a few of us still read the paper. On paper.)

This is not to be confused with National Cherry Pie Day. (February 20)

Or National Banana Cream Pie Day. (March 2)

Or National Blueberry Pie Day. (April 28 – also, the birthday of our Irish Setter when I was a kid )

Or Pi Day. (March 14 – duh)

Today is a day to celebrate all pie, rather than to discriminate for or against a particular flavor. I’m not even a huge fan of pie – I mean, I like good pie, don’t get me wrong. But I would usually default to a really good cookie or piece of cake versus pie. However, seeing as I am completely susceptible to Jedi and American Pie Council mind tricks, as soon as I saw it was National Pie Day, I knew I had to have some.  (I don’t know why the Jedi want me to eat pie, they just do.)

While I could give you a list of places to find outstanding cookies, and some very good cupcakes, I am not aware of any really awesome local options for pie. Please, someone, anyone, enlighten me if I’m missing out. (If coconut is mentioned in your response you will be automatically disqualified, so answer carefully.)  So this means I was craving pie, with no pie to be had. Clearly, the only logical solution was….make one. Woo hoo, spontaneous pie!

I don’t always have a well-stocked pantry in terms of throwing together a meal, but when baking is the name of the game I usually have the basics, and today was no exception. A quick Google search for some simple options led me to a butterscotch recipe and the only thing I needed was milk, which I was already planning on picking up on my way home from lunch out. Perfecto.  And as long as I had to get milk, I also got a half-pint of whipping cream to top it off.

The recipe origin is Paula Deen, and she annoys the crap out of me, but she’s less irritating on paper than she is on tv. And it didn’t call for lard, so I was willing to give it a go.  It called for a pastry shell, however,  and I prefer graham crackers crusts both to eat (with the appropriate filling) and to make, so I modified. It was also the only way it was sneaking into my day – no time for full-blown pie crust.

Graham cracker crusts are super easy. It can be fun to smash the hell out of the crackers, but today I had a container of crumbs on hand from some prior baking adventure.

Graham Cracker Crust (thank you allrecipes.com)
1-1/2 cups finely ground graham cracker crumbs
1/3 cup white sugar
6 tablespoons melted butter

Mix everything together. Press mixture into an 8 or 9 inch pie plate. I read a little trick today to use the back of a spoon to press the crumbs into the pie plate, and that worked nicely. Bake at 375 degrees for 7 minutes. Cool.

pie crust

Butterscotch pie
1-1/2 cups packed brown sugar
½ cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cornstarch
½ teaspoon salt
4 cups milk
2 egg yolks, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 9-inch pie crust
Whipped cream

Paula mixes butterscotch chips into her whipped cream, and sprinkles more on top. That seemed unnecessary to me (although I did have some in the pantry) so I ignored that part.

In a large saucepan combine sugar, flour, cornstarch and salt. Slowly stir in milk. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until it thickens. This is boring, and it takes a while. But keep stirring, otherwise it might get lumpy or scorch on the bottom. Be patient, this is what makes your pie luscious. I would suggest that you download Ruzzle onto your phone and challenge me to a game while you’re stirring, but I found it hard to focus on the game and maintain good stirring motion. 😉  It took maybe 10-15 minutes for it to thicken. And you will just know – oh, look, it’s thickening! When it happens, it happens quickly. I turned the heat very low at this point so I didn’t have to worry about neglecting it for the next minute or two. In a separate bowl temper your 2 egg yolks by whisking in a small amount (a few spoons full) of the hot mixture. Stir in the eggs, butter and vanilla, and allow to cook over low heat for a few minutes. At this point, Paula recommends pouring into a dish and cooling in the fridge. My crust had cooled, so I poured the filling straight into the pie plate. The whole thing is in the fridge now, chillin’ like a villain.

Should you want to make whipped cream to top it:
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup powdered sugar
Using a hand mixer, whip together the heavy cream and sugar until light and fluffy
(seriously, whipped cream is the easiest thing to make ever)

Um yeah….I’m gonna need to go eat some of that now….the verdict is in….yum!

pie

Happy Pie Day!!

Category:

Cooking/Recipes, Humor

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Doh!

Image

measuring cup

 

In case you missed it….

Written

on January 20, 2013

Oh where, oh where has my measuring cup gone?

January 18, 2013

I am so confused. So very confused.

I cannot find my 1-cup measuring cup. I have a set of four nesting cups and I even keep them on the stupid annoying ring so they all stay together. And I just went to put away the 1-cup cup that I used earlier when I was preparing dinner, and I noticed as I put it back on the stupid annoying ring that it was actually the ½-cup cup. Which makes no sense, because I haven’t used the measuring cups in days and there is nothing else in the dish drainer or the dishwasher and I have no clue where it is.

It also means that in my haste this afternoon, when I was throwing ingredients into the crockpot, I only used one cup of something instead of two.

Sigh……

Dinner….let’s figure that out first. I think if I throw in the other cup now, it’ll be ok. It’s still got at least an hour to go and instinct says it’s ok for this particular recipe. (Instinct. Ha! This is the first time I’ve ever made this, so we may be ordering pizza later. I already told Klondike we don’t have to eat it.)

Done.

Now. Where is the freakin’ cup?

I have no idea. I have looked in every logical place and some illogical ones.

Here’s what’s super annoying and weird.

I bought these measuring cups because I had a set I really, really liked, except after I moved into my house, I couldn’t find……

THE 1-CUP MEASURING CUP!!!!

And to this day, I still haven’t found it.

I think maybe my ex kept it.

(I don’t really think that. But where the fuck is it?)

And now, another cup grows feet and takes a hike and AGAIN IT’S THE 1-CUP CUP?????

Sigh……

I know. I can use what I have to achieve one cup. But it’s kind of annoying to have TWO SETS BOTH MISSING THE SAME STUPID CUP!

I will keep looking. And I will buy another set if I have to, because I use the 1-cup cup a lot.

Wherever they are, I hope the missing ones are together, having some sort of party or something.

Because seriously. WTF????

Category:

Food, Humor

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Paleo Schmaleo

January 16, 2013

Me
11:13am
I will shove processed carbs down the throat of the next person who says “paleo” around me.

Her
11:13am
omg. dude. that made me laugh so hard i almost peed.

 

Ok, seriously. Can we please give it a rest with the over-sharing of food choices, dietary restrictions, fad diets, gastro-intestinal issues, food allergies, all of it?

I support healthy living, even though I don’t always act upon it myself. I am all for learning about food and nutrition and taking an active role in your own well being. I am sorry you are allergic to nuts or are lactose intolerant or have celiac disease. I am glad you have discovered that eliminating carbs from your diet does whatever you wanted it to do. I support your choice to be a vegetarian. But sweet fancy Moses, do we have to listen to you talk about it all the fucking time?

(And by “talk” I mean Facebook, but also the real world.)

Let’s keep whether or not it’s boring out of it. I find it so obnoxious when people go on and on about whatever life-altering change they’ve made in a manner that suggests we should all make the same change immediately. We are all different, and what’s good for you might not be good for me. We all have different needs and different bodies and different tastes. And quite frankly, one person raving about how she is now eating nothing but dirt and we should all immediately start eating nothing but dirt starts to feel a little bit like someone suggesting her church is the one we should all join.  Please stop proselytizing your food. I am begging you.

Because also, it gets kind of boring after a while.

 

And ps, my dad hasn’t eaten meat in something like 35 years, and many in  my family have some kind of health-driven dietary restrictions, so I know it’s possible to not talk about it all the time, because we don’t.

Category:

Family, Food, Soapbox

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My mom is the Rain Man of the grocery store

Aside

Mom, aka Rain Man

 

Klondike says this will be our million dollar idea: the “ask Fran” grocery app.

Written

on January 12, 2013

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