Yesterday after work, Mr. W and I went to Seal Beach to visit Rebecca at the coffee house. We got there a few hours early, so we thought we’d try out a Vietnamese restaurant we’d seen on Main Street called Basil Leaf. What was attractive was a sign on the front door that says, “NO MSG!” Mr. W gets occasional cravings for pho, but I always resist because I don’t want to ingest toxic amounts of MSG and feel gross and bloated afterwards, so he rarely gets his pho cravings satisfied. This place was a great find and is DELICIOUS! I also had an entire young coconut to myself. Chilled. They just hacked the outside green stuff off, gave it a lobotomy and me a straw and spoon. I’m always surprised how great and lightly fruity coconut water tastes to me, cuz coconut flavored liquors, foods, chocolates, etc. is horrible to me. I also don’t like that scratchy scrapey shaved coconut texture. Young fresh coconut, however, I’m able to clean out. I ate everything edible in there. Mr. W turned to me at one point and said, “You’d better lay off that coconut.” I froze with a mouthful of the tender white stuff, thoughts of saturated fats scaring me for a moment, spoon still poised in stab-dig position.
“Why?”
“There’s something about young coconuts… it’ll give you the runs.”
“Oh,” I said with relief, “I don’t care.” I went back to digging and eating my coconut.
He instantly took out his iPad and said he’d look the information up. Turns out, fresh young coconuts are very nutritious and are quite low in saturated fat and calories. I remembered learning that surgeons back in Captain Cook’s exploration days would directly IV-inject coconut water into the vein for dehydrated sick sailors. And, I’m happy to say, I did not get the runs. I plan on eating more chilled young coconut whenever I come across them. I’m happy they don’t taste anything like coconut flavoring.

On the walk to the coffee house, we passed by a jewelry store that does custom jewelry. I’d been wanting to get my engagement ring adjusted for some time. The center stone sits so high that I bang it into everything. It’s only held by just 4 prongs, so if one prong breaks, the diamond is gone. It’s gotten so that I take it off the moment I get home, and don’t wear it if I think I’ll be using my hands for anything (dishes, gymming, kayaking, rafting, holding onto ride handles at Disneyland, reaching into my purse…), and I check it frequently to make sure the stone’s still in place. =P It’s become very impractical. So we went into the store and spoke to the owner, who’s also the jewelry maker and designer. I examined a lot of his work and liked his taste. We also chatted with him a long time about the jewelry business and his philosophies about random stuff. We liked him and his no-nonsense approach to his field and commissioned him to reset the center stone in a 6-prong Tiffany setting, lowered 2 millimeters. He also asked if we could leave the wedding band with him so he could make sure if the dimensions change on the engagement ring, there wouldn’t be a match-up problem with the band. So walking out of there later, I felt very naked without my rings on. Until we pick up the rings next week, I’m gonna wear my other rings that I hadn’t worn in years. Today I have on a white pearl and peacock pearl yellow gold ring, accented by 2 diamonds, that I’d bought in a state of delirium and delusion of richness in college. It’s kinda fun, changing up the jewelry wardrobe, which is something I rarely get into.

At the coffee house, it was an intimate small crowd. I enjoyed that. Rebecca turned and smiled at me out of the blue at one point and asked, “Are you two ‘trying’ right now?” I explained there’s no “trying” with us, and that when we were ready, we’d just go to the doctor and get everything done. She said “it” feels very close around me, and that if she hadn’t known I couldn’t be pregnant right now, she’d think I were. I do feel very close to this soul, and I’ve felt it for awhile now. Just yesterday, before leaving to see Rebecca, I was typing up a case cite of Riley vs. Pappadopoulos [(1994) 23 Cal.App.4th 1616, 1624, if anyone cares to know] and suddenly, BAM, “Riley!” It felt like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle just glided seamlessly into place, completing a portion of a picture. No wonder my friends’ kids’ names of Kyden and Tyler always seemed to sort of resonate with me. I saw a “y” and a long “i” sound long ago. Plus, it’s one of the rare names that sounds good with Mr. W’s odd-sounding last name. So unless and until an even more perfect-feeling name comes up, hello, Riley! And Riley (well, his spirit anyhow) says hello to all of you!