Put the Screwdriver in the Coconut...

I thought this challenge, posed by Christie, would be easy as pie. And, with all of the recent LSAT studying/ back to school/ why-is-the-work-never-over stress, I could use a little quality time with a hammer. So as I was in BiLo early Sunday morning in a desperate and groggy search for coffee, I picked up a coconut.

This was not my first coconut rodeo. Freshman year of college I lived across from a slightly sketchy, but highly ethnic supermarket, and in addition to having things like lengua (read: tongue) in the meat department, they also had a wide and fresh selection of coconuts. For anyone interested, first you puncture the little holes in the top of the coconut and drain the water. Then a good solid crack to the middle, like the above, should do it. However, if you do not live near a place coconuts logically come from, you may end up with a situation like this:

Wary as I now was of the freshness of coconuts in the south, I went to my local Whole Foods. The three brown coconuts they had there had blemishes, cracks, and I didn't hear the coconut water sloshing around when I shook them. These are all not good signs.

And then I saw them: a cluster of young coconuts sitting over by the guacamole! I snagged one and brought it home, where both the Second Lieutenant and my mother promptly asked me what the hell it was. Sometimes I forget that not everyone has seen a young coconut.

I was first introduced to young coconut meat by my roommate, Nicole. She would eat the gelatinous meat for dessert. When she later came out to visit me in California, we went to an excellent raw food place in Santa Monica called Euphoria Loves Rawvelution, where they serve young cocnuts exactly like I'm about to show you. (The Young Coconut, scored and sitting next to the best rice in the world.)

If you look closely in the above picture, you will see a pentagonal scoring in the top of the coconut. At Rawvelution, they take a cleaver and chop said pattern. Then they use the blade to pry the top open, and voila!

Think like this, but... slower. I like my fingers.



I have accomplished the same thing with the base of the blade of my cheap WalMart knives in California, but for some reason (saftey, I expect), my Dad's "good" knives would not replicate this feat.

So, the trusty screwdriver and hammer made a reappearance. Stress release galore:


And Yay! Mission accomplished. I got to drink coconut water while I studied, and then I took all the meat out and froze it for my breakfast-protein smoothie the next day.

FAIL....

Um. So yeah.

I thought I would knock out Lauren's theoretically-worst challenge: to give up all of my "liquid indulgences" for a week.
I have a feeling she posed this for the following reasons.
-When I gave up drinking diet soda, I started chugging coffee
-When I stopped drinking coffee, I started drinking tea a lot
-Then my 21st birthday hit, and I drank a glass of wine/other alcohol with dinner
-Then in an effort to maintain a non-Jabba-the-Hutt waistline, I started to drink a lot of sparkling water. See, it's like soda, but without the aspartame! And I would drink that generally instead of wine at night. During this time period, the tea lattes also made a comeback.

So... I have a beverage problem. I like to ALWAYS have a beverage around me, but especially while studying or writing. I know some people would say I have caffeine issues, but I've gotten so used to giving that up cold turkey that I don't think that's the problem anymore. I think it's essentially just the habit of drinking (again, especially while studying/reading/writing).

So, as per Lauren's challenge, I tried to give all of the above named beverages for a week, and make due with only water and the smoothie-with-powder I choke down in the morning to ensure I get enough protein. I made it through Wednesday and Thursday just fine. Then yesterday I found myself drinking straight from the 2 liter bottle of cream soda that has been sitting on the counter all summer before I even knew what I was doing. It kind of reminded me of a story my grandmother tells about the time she fell asleep smoking and lit the couch on fire. As my grandfather put the couch out she was crying hysterically, panicking, and swearing she would never smoke again... as she lit another cigarette.

This will be attempted again. Maybe after a better battle-plan is formulated.