I’m Becoming A Nut For Coconut

There are certain foods that I hated as a child that I simply love now. Since our taste buds change every seven years this makes sense to me.  I used to hate popcorn, asparagus, Mexican food, lime anything, Cocunut, and  avocados; to name a few. I now love them all, except avocados; I still don’t like those.  

But, when it comes to Cocunut I am a huge fan now and not just for eating.  I love to use coconut in so very many different ways. A long time ago, a good friend of mine told me she used Cocunut oil as a lubricant during sex.  It is all natural and taste good.  It doesn’t work well with toys but I’ve employed its usage for that a few times and found it very nice.  

Another friend who is my age was looking really young to me and I said, “you look great honey, your older than me and you smoke; what’s your secret?” 

“Coconut oil” she responded. ” I put it all over my body” 

I didn’t start using it until I realized the lotions I was using was filled with chemicals.  I’ve been using it as my dailie moisturizer for about a year now and I’m very happy with how my skin feels.  I also save a fortune on body creams. 

I love to eat it to. I make a smoothie every morning and I HAVE to have shredded coconut in my smoothie. If I don’t have little chunks of coocunut to chew on as I suck down my veggie and fruit concoction, I’m not satisfied.  I love it, it actually brings me joy. 

Now I’ve started a new work out routine that comes with a diet plan and one thing they feel speeds up your metabolism (which helps burn fat) is drinking 1 to 2 tablespoons of coconut oil a day . 

Today I discovered the most amazing coconut chips.  Sun dried coconut in coconut milk, with a bit of sugar added. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.   I want to go get more because I already ate the entire bag!

I guess you could say I am nuts for coconut. I can’t think of another use for it but I’m sure there’s something I’m not thining of.  It’s one of those items that I would want to be stranded on a deserted island with.  


The Drawer

Now I’ve told you all that I don’t like to cook right? I can cook and I am not affraid to add seasonings to things, but I despise the kitchen and any other 50’s based female responsibilities. I have a sign in my kitchen that says, “I kiss better than I cook!” And it’s true. When ever I’m in the kitchen it seems like some sort of mishap happens and I think that’s because I spend so little time in there that I’m not comfortable. 

Well one of My girlfriends came over the other night and she just purchased her very own house (I’m so proud of her). At one point during her visit, I was standing in the kitchen and she was sitting on one of my bar stool, facing me. She says to me, ” oh you have an electric range. I had electric in my condo.  Now I have a gas oven” 

I look at my stove and think back to my gas range. “I’ve always had gas ovens in my life. This is my first electric oven and I’m still not sure about it.” (As I thought to myself I really don’t care either. The oven is so insignificant in my life) 

“Yeah I like the gas but it’s warping my cookie sheets that I keep in the drawer below it” she continues, “with the electric oven I was able to use the drawer without any issues but now they’re all jacked up! It sucks!” 

I just looked at her with this really weird look for a minute or so. As I tried to figure out what she was talking about. I looked down at my stove front and said to my friend, “there’s a drawer?”

“What?” She asks me confused. 

“There’s a drawer?” I ask again. As I bent down and pulled on what I thought was the facade to my broiler. It easily slid forward to reveal a big deap drawer with a small muffin sheet in it. 

“Hey! I have a drawer!” I excitedly exclaimed ! (As I’m thinking to myself “HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THAT!”)

“Oh my god LoLa! How long have you lived here?” she asks me.  As she is now cracking up at my new found discovery. 

“Three years” I answer sheepishly. Then excitedly I ask,  “Is that my muffin pan?” (As if she’s going to know) and she just laughs harder. 

“You didn’t know you had a drawer there and you’ve lived her for 3 YEARS!” She says cracking up. 

“Read the sign girl! It’s true! I kiss better then I cook” I replied with a big smile. ” I have literally been storing everything in my oven” I said, as I throw open my oven door to reveal a stack of fry pans.  Which I quickly swooped up and was able to fit all of them in the new found drawer. Thereby leaving my oven to be just that, an oven and not a storage facility. 

“Seriously though, is that my muffin pan?” I ask again as my friend just kept laughing.  ( I don’t remember the muffin pan at all and wondered to myself “maybe my ex put it in there when he helped me move in?”)

Then I realized something else and said to her,”You know I’m going to go to cook next time (like in a week or two) and I’m gonna be freaking out because all my fry pans are going to be gone!” 

She just kept on laughing and shaking her head. 

Just another cooking lesson in LoLa-Land

37 and Never Been Married 

“So tell me, why a good looking guy such as yourself is 37 and you’ve never been married?” I asked. 

“I don’t want to get divorced because it seems like a hellish thing to have to deal with.  I have my routine and I like to be alone. Woman who have been with me have wanted my constant attention.  They want to see me as soon as I’m off work and all weekend.  I like to play in my garage and work on my car. Usually they start to think I’m cheating on them and leave because their desperate for attention.” He replied. 

“Hmmmm yeah I know the type” I respond. 

“When I’m with you I will give you 100% of my attention and that will only make you want more and more of it when I’m away from you.” He kept going. (I’m noting that he’s starting to seem a bit cocky). 

Fast forward to our first date 

He shows up at my home 20 minutes late with no excuse of his tardiness. “What are you cooking for me?” He asks?
I had to laugh, as I realized, this man doesn’t know me at all.  “Look the sign in my kitchen is accurate, ‘I kiss better than I cook’. But, I haven’t cooked in weeks and I kind of feel like doing it.  I can try out my new apron!” I say excitedly, and jump up and go in the kitchen. 

“Sit at the bar, so we can talk.  Do you want something to dri..” I start to ask before I realized he was already head first in my fridge pulling out a beer. (Ok, help yourself).  After opening his beer he goes into my living room and plops himself down on my couch. Grabs the remote and turns on the Warriors game. (Really?! Isn’t he going to give me 100% of his attention?) 

“Are you going to watch the game or talk to me?” I ask. 

“I’m going to do both.” He dryly replies with out even looking at me. 

Irritated I got to my Prep work. I was working in silence listening to his game when suddenly he comes into my kitchen. 

“Are you going to use any bell peppers in the sauce?” He asked 

“I don’t have any” I answer 

“You know if you cut that onion another way you cry less?” He states (really asshole why don’t you come and cut the onion then? I think as I feel my irritation level rising) 

“Do you have any Balsamic?” He asks me. 

“I don’t think so? Why?” I answer. 

“Oh, too bad that would have been good in the sauce.” He answers. 

(Who’s making this pasta me or you? How the hell do you know what would make my sauce taste better when you haven’t even tasted it?) 

Then a commercial comes on with some famous woman who had an obvious boob job and he says, “oh thank god she got her tits done!  She had kids so you know those things were just all stretched out and saggy, with stretch marks and just hanging! That’s the worst kind of boobs! Small boobs that have been used for breast feeding just look nasty afterwards!” He spouts off. 

(I just kept thinking of my sister and how self conscience she is about her tits since breastfeeding. And how proud I am  of her for putting her kids health abover her vanity.   How she is beautiful no matter what shape her tits are now in. Fuck this guy). 

“What’s up with your texting?” I ask. As I had been highly irritated since meeting him by his shitting cell phone communication and at this point I’m ready to take him on. ( I was also desperate to change the subject before I said anything rude.) “You will ask me a question, I respond right away and then you reply to my response 5 hours later.  It’s kind of infuriating.” 

“Well i have my routine and I like to be alone. Woman who have been with me have wanted my constant attention.  But I hate the phone. Usually my ex’s start to think I’m cheating on them and leave because their desperate and need to know where I am at all times and when i don’t respond they think I’m doing bad things but I never am. I don’t like to be attached to my phone” he answered 

(“Interesting” is what I was thinking as I knew I had heard that well rehearsed monologue of his before. While noting he had checked his phone twice already since he had been over.  This man REALLY has no idea who I am. He must think I’m a stupid blonde. )

“Maybe they start to feel insecure because you start a conversation and then just leave people hanging and then your just MIA. It leaves a lot up for interpretation”  I state. 

“Yeah well they need to just deal with it because this is how I roll” he replies. 

(Who the hell does this guy think he is? Tupac?)

As we ate my meal he made two comments about “gays” while lowering his voice.  As if saying “Gay” was a bad word. (Again I’ve mentioned my opportunity to have had  a bucket list trip to Italy, to him and not once did he ask me about it. If he had, he would have found out about my GAYS and how I would NEVER tolerate a partner who would ever be judging them or anyone else for their sexual preference. (“This guys a real peach” is all I keep thinking.)

While enjoying drinks on the couch after dinner (that he didn’t even clean up his plate from or offer to help me clean in anyway) he made some comment about how we all evolve from dark skin.  (Don’t ask me how this shit came up). “What? Is that some anthropological theory or..?” I start to ask and he inturpts me. 

“Well yeah, there’s a theory we all came from Africa and through evolution we have lightened up through the years and our hair and eyes have gotten lighter in the process” he replies. 

(Now granted I am already on edge with this guy and ready for him to leave. So, my ability to subjectively ask him more questions regarding his comment without judging him are very low.) 

“I’m not sure your explaining yourself correctly. Because that sounded a lot like Hitlers view on the perfect Person being pale skinned with blonde hair and blue eyes.  And because of their physical traits that they are some how better than someone who’s darker skinned?!” I reply with obvious irritation in my voice. 

(This is when he was supposed to correct my misinterpretation of his statement but instead…) 

“Well yeah kind of. According to this theory he was right” he answers instead.

(Are you fucking kidding me! That’s like saying that I’m more evolved then half my Creole elders, and all their years of life lessons, just because I have blonde hair!!! This guy is a Moron!!! No wonder he has never been married!! Woman are to smart to put up with any of that shit! Anyone who thinks someone’s bodily traits makes them more evolved was skipped over during the evolution of the brain development and it still thinking like an ape!  I sat in silence and waited for him to start beating on his chest.) 

“So, do you want to go Upstairs… ” he says to me lowering his voice to, what I assume is his sexy bedroom voice. 

“No I’m tired, you should probably go” I reply irritated. 

I was already up and half way to my front door as I was answering him. 

“Ok well, we still on for Saturday?” He asks me, as he heads through my door. 

“I don’t know? Why don’t you text me and I’ll respond when I have time.” I calmly replied and then I shut my door, locked it and turned off my porch light, before he even had my screen door closed. 

Just another (fantastic) date in LoLa-Land 

Cooking is Good. Right?

Latey I’ve noticed a certain phenomenon in my world that is not working out well for me. I’ve noticed that my balance in my check book has been going down quickly and at the same time the number on my scale has been going up quickly.  I am still working out but I am still gaining weight.  I know what it is and it has everything to do with my complete lack of interest in anything to do with cooking. I will eat out at any given opportunity. Which can usually mean 1 to 2 times a day.  Very rarely do I eat all of my daily intake of food from my own kitchen.  

I’m not stupid I know the way to switch the changing of my scale and pocketbook numbers. So, today I decided to make it a reality and I did something I NEVER do, I cooked. I went to the local farm and picked up a bunch of yummy fresh produce.  

The I went home and started cleaning and slicing all of it.  I even busted out the knife set I won at last years family “white elephant” Christmad gift exchange.  I cook so rarely, that in over 6 months, I never once took it from its packaging. 

I wanted to prep for my week knowing how lazy I get after working 8 hours.  So I sliced up some mushrooms, green onions, bell pepper, garlic, and Swiss chard with some olive oil, salt and sautéed it all together. Then blended it in with a dozen eggs and made breakfast for myself for the week. 

Homemade egg muffins 

I then sliced up celery, cucumbers and tomatoes, then bagged them up in ready made snack bags, I could easily grab. At the same time I was, Dethawing chicken and baking it in a barbecue sauce. My kitchen smelled delictable.  The last time it smelt that good was when “The sweatheart” came over with his baked chicken one night.  I was kinda of impressed with myself.  Especially when i checked the baking chicken to Find it a beautiful golden brown color. 

But, as per normal LoLa experiences. As I tried to gently wedge my egg muffins from the pan, the bottoms stuck to it and ripped away from the muffin.  Then I smelt something burnng  and peeked into the oven, only to find my Golden chicken had quickly turn black. I reached in quickly to pull the chicken out, to avoid any further burning of my week’s worth of lunch, totally forgetting that the handle was hot. I now have what feels like a second-degree burn on my thumb and have not been able to let go of some sort of ice product since it happened .  When I cleaned up all the unused veggies, I guess I put too many in the garbage disposal at once because at some point the water stopped draining and just spun in circles.

Again I ask myself (and I think understandably so), “LoLa do you think you should just eat out from now on?” Because the plumber bill and doctor visit will cost more than the dinner out 

Just another 911 cooking Experiance in LoLa-Land 

Kitchen Storage

On this lovely Thanksgiving morning I am freezing. It would be my luck and yet another test of my stress levels and sanity, that my heater has decided to tank the day before a holiday. One of maybe three days a year when every single store is closed.

I complained about the chill on Facebook and was told to turn on my oven and leave the door open and I had to stop for a minute. Oven? Do I own a oven? I’m not sure my toaster oven is really going to make that big of a difference? But then it hit me! Oh he’s talking about my extra kitchen storage!! That handy dandy large metal cupboard with easy access door that resides in the center of my kitchen. Oh yeah, the oven! But wait, what would I do with all my stuff that is stored in it?

I am trying to remember to stay thankful this Thanksgiving, so instead of thinking about the quickly dropping temperature within my home, I am going to be thankful I have a fire place (even though I only have one log to burn). I am going to be thankful for my many layers of warm clothes and ample bedding choices. I am also thankful that if need be, I always have my extra kitchen storage space in the kitchen and I am also thankful that it has the potential to warm things including me if I need it to. But most of all I am thankful I have a safe secure roof over my head and insulated walls to keep the 30 degree weather away.

Happy Thanksgiving to You all! I wish you all a warm love filled holiday.


Eat At Your Own Risk

My man and I have come up with a brilliant restaurant idea and we are thinking about making it a reality. We are going to quit our jobs, sell all of our used Rollerblade equipment and cassette tapes and we are going to start our very own enterprise. That’s exactly what it will be to when word of what we are making gets out. People are going to come from miles away (maybe like 2) to see what we got dished up. We are going to open a restaurant called “omelets always” or “Always an omelet”, we are still working on the name. (It’s a tough one)
The basic principal is in the name. We will make ANYTHING YOU WANT. We will cook it ANYWAY YOU WANT IT, but whatever it is, it will be encased in an omelet. That’s right ANYTHING! You want eggs with bacon and toast? Fine, not a problem, Hell we will even make you Sunny-side up eggs and cut your toast to look like a heart. But then the entire master piece is all going into an omelet.
You want pizza? That’s fine we will make it to order, thick or thin crust and then it will be laid to quickly cook in an egg bed. You want a hamburger? We will fry you up the juiciest patty and even toast your buns, but when you get that burger in front of you it will look like the fattest omelet you have ever seen.
Tacos are tricky because the tortilla tends to soak up to much egg yolk, during the test runs we lost 1, 2 or 7 people do to salmonella poisoning. But we improved our technique and feel confident that soon we will master the Taco, so no one else dies. Of course until such time please make sure to sign the waiver precluding us of any responsibilities. Remember “you eat at your own risk”.
Now there are just two questions I need to ask you, “What do you want in your omelet? And do you want me to add some Velveeta?”
Look for us soon in strip malls near you

Eat the Cake

You want your cake
You want to eat it too
Have all you can take
If that’s what you want to do

Eat up your sweet
Suck the frosting in
I hope you get all you seek
And your happy in the end

Is that piece exactly what you want
Is the filling just right for you
Is that cake as fresh as you had sought
You are giving up me to have the two

You want your cake
You want to eat it too
I am not going to placate
Or pretend I don’t care what you do

I hope you enjoy your dessert
I hope the flavor is the best you had
Go ahead and start to flirt
With your decision you should be glad

But while you eat up every last bite
While you scrape off the last of the sweetness
I will no longer be in sight
Your sweet tooth will be your weakness

It saddens me that you are not happy
You can do what you want to do
When ever I think of you and me
It was like having my cake and eating it too.

Starting to master meat

Being newly liberated, I have been trying to master some skills that I didn’t obtain beforehand.  Maybe obtain isn’t the right word.  I never used certain skills and cooking is one of them.  I think I have made a couple batches of cookies and some small cakes over the years.  In highschool I made some bad pizza for my family and some Microwaved chicken for a boyfriend.  In Junior High I made chocolate pie with salt instead of sugar.  Other than these random cooking mishaps I have hardly any experience with this domestic duty.  But, now I am forced with the, figuring out and preparing of three solid meals a day.  It scares the shit out of me almost everyday.  When I first started this duty, I would actually go into a cold sweat at the idea of what to make that would be healthy and not potentially kill me or my family.  I must also admit that I have not mastered Meat!  And you can go where you want with that statement, but; tonight was the first time I attempted meat other than in the microwave.  I am 37 and tonight was the first time I have ever made bacon!   I figured it was relatively harmless and pretty hard to screw up.  I have seen it made 100’s of times and everyone just throws that stuff in a pan and lets it go, how hard could it be?  Here’s what I knew but I don’t know if it’s right.  I knew that the cast iron skillet was the best to use.  I knew that the bacon didn’t need any other fat introduced to cook it.  I knew that I wanted to try to cook it as flat as possible and that the pan had to be hot before I put the bacon in it.  I realize now that I should have had my heat at a more even temperature. Because the bacon cooked way to fast on one side.  But, all in all I was able to cook the Bacon without burning or under cooking it.  And there were no left overs when everyone was done eating.  I am proud of myself.  Now, I am thinking about chicken.  Non microwaved chicken……  I know I can, I know I can…..

Just another day in LoLa-Land

No good in the kitchen

I am just no good in the kitchen.  When someone asks me to help them with something while they are cooking, I will literally go into a cold sweat!  “Excuse me?  You want me to what to those onions? Cut them?  Um, with a knife? really? Do you think I can be trusted?”  Once I was unable to attend a graduation but could be at the party afterwards.  The people asked me to set up the food and get it ready.  I was in the bathroom stressing about it for about an hour before hand.  It took me 10 minutes and the help from a sweet aunt to get the oven turned on.  When I was in cooking class in Highschool I was the only one to throw water on a grease fire.  Yep! That was me.  Once I made pizza for my family, pepperoni pizza to be exact.  I had no idea that there was paper stuff on the outside of the pepperoni!  I thought it was part of the meat.   Once during a big deal meal I was in charge of the deviled eggs.  The recipe called for 1 tsp salt.  I put in 1 tbsp salt.  People were spitting those things out left and right. 

Don’t even get me started about electric stoves vs. gas stoves.  Me and electric stoves have NEVER gotten along.  I think it’s because i never know if the damn things are on.  There is no visual flame to remind me that it’s hot.  I have destroyed countless burners and teapots by turning on the wrong burner and waiting for food to start cooking.  All the while the empty teapot in the back,  that is sitting on the heating burner, is being scorched beyond repair.  I don’t know what it is, maybe I get to excited by all the things that heat and clean, that I just can’t function.  Maybe I get intimidated by all the scary things like food processors and  pasta makers.  What ever it is, I am completely out of my element while in the kitchen, unless of course I am doing the damn dishes.

Coloring Project – The Frog


2010 Summer Reading List

Sookie Stackhouse, the complete stories A touch of Dead
Finger Prints & Facelifts
His First Wife, Gracce Octavia
The promise of happiness, Justin Cratwright
Silk & Shadows
The Honey Thief
The marriage
Ya ya Sisterhood book # 3
The Other Boleyn Girl
Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
3 book flower series by Nora Roberts
The Kept woman
Twlight book # 4
twlight book #3

Coloring Project – The Swan