Womens Depends Underwear (Covina)

Date: 2011-07-10, 6:19PM PDT

Free Robot and Lawn Gnome

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Date: 2011-07-10, 4:33PM PDT

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I no longer have room in my life for my robot or lawn gnome. So call or text if you would like either one, or take both is you really want to get crazy. Robot Dances and stuff… the gnome just stands there

- classes started on the 4th and I am taking 14 units, which technically means 16 units, because live team doesn’t count as part of those units, but I have to be there from 3-5pm on Tuesdsays, … so it counts

- research lab is now a 3 hour extravaganza on Mondays

- I started working as a youth intern… thats supposed to be 15 hours a week

-I am in a relationship, with an amazing guy!

- I am on PGU and planning an event for the quarter

- I am trying to move apartments

- I still want to see all my friends!

So basically… I am very busy. If you don’t see me for awhile, its not because I don’t love you, … I do, I promise!

Also, as promised last quarter, the first two editions of icecapades will be up on facebook at the end of the week. (my cohort comic) Yes, that is correct I have made a comic, …. do not make fun of me, though I am not an artist, and if you aren’t in my psych. cohort you will not find it funny. Well, I need to sleep. I am viewing an apartment at 7 :15 tomorrow morning… ahh!

Goodnight Moon

My grandfather, Boies Coppinger, was a World War II veteran, and a man of the world. Working for Shell Gasoline Co., he traveled all over the United States and lived for 10 years in Japan. I remember asking my mom why grandpa had a tattoo, as tattoos were taboo for my family. My mom explained that he was in the Navy, and thats what Navy men did. It was a tattoo of an Anchor, navy blue, on his upper arm. I think I always liked that tattoo. It made me think of my grandpa as the loving grandfather, but with a rugged strong side.

He also loved to make model trains, planes, boats, etc. He once even untangled and correctly attached every line of a decorative ship my mom had bought. Matter of fact, she bought it on sale from Tuesday Morning, because it was a tangled mess. Seemingly hopeless, but my grandfather brought it back to life. It still sits on our mantle today!

With each surpassing Christmas, I realized how strange my grandpa was at giving gifts. Since he lived in Florida, he would ship them to Texas, and being the timely and organized man that he was, they always arrived before Christmas. He usually just gave my brothers and I money, but he always gave my mother something quite “interesting.” Sometimes it was a Floridian piece of art, and one time it was a coin from ancient Israel and a mustard seed. My favorite though, was this strange-looking stained glass/mixed media art piece that she was given. It was a spirally shell, cut in half and then soldered onto a circular blue glass plate. What was she supposed to do with that? Well, my mother with all of her grace, has it hung up in our kitchen, bless her heart.

The last time I went to visit him, he showed me around his new house in Sun City, Florida (yes, it is one of those retirement communities where people drive golf carts everywhere). When we got to his office, he began to explain to me the significance of the models he had displayed or the art he had brought back from Japan. I, however, was fascinated by one thing. Hanging on the wall to my right was an Ellis Island certificate. My grandfather had the certificate from our immigration, how cool was that! He wasn’t even going to tell me about it, I had to ask him! Probably, the coolest thing in his office.

I could go on with more stories about my grandfather, but I would like to share with you some of the moments before he died. About three weeks before his death, he accepted Christ as his personal Savior, praise the Lord! Before this, he had already decided that he wanted to die at home. I remember calling him about a week ago and asking him how he was doing. He said that the night before was terrible, but that he was doing well now. I asked what had happened, and he explained that he had run out of morphine in the middle of the night, and the earliest the nurse could get it to him was 7AM. He went on to say, but today I am okay. Wow, had I heard that correctly? He just went through an incredibly traumatizing/painful experience, and he was content. Matter of fact, every time I talked to him, he had something positive to say. Even in these short weeks, I could tell that God was working in his heart. He wasn’t bitter or angry, but instead, looking forward to the future. I always knew my grandfather was a disciplined man, but I never had seen this kind of strength or resilience. Through his grace in dying, I gained more respect for him. He always loved me and I knew that, but strength in the face of death, that was something else.

Boies Coppinger was a wonderful man, full of love. Though at times he was strict and stubborn, we all knew deep down, that he loved us, and we loved him. His finally days were hard, but were also full of grace. Jesus had truly saved my grandpa, and I know I will meet him again one day in the clouds.

Today has been a hard day, and its only  3:57PM. After a fun night with friends, I awoke, and as usual checked my email and facebook. Perhaps I should get out of this habit, as I have found that facebook can be the source of joy, but also extreme pain. What news did I discover? While chatting to my dad I found out that he might be flying out to Florida early next week to handle my Grandfather’s affairs. I am constantly reminded that each day is only a day away from death. On top of that, I discovered that the person I shared eight years of my life with has a new girlfriend.

A shockwave hit me and I felt disembodied. Actually, I didn’t feel, I wasn’t feeling. It was like my body went into shock, because it could not handle the pain of what had just occurred. Pins and needles shot through my arms and legs. Was I supposed to cry, call a friend, sulk? I just didn’t know how to be.

Its wonderful that the people closest to me live in foreign countries, are too busy, or just couldn’t understand.

I guess certain things just hit me really hard. Maybe its because I allow myself to feel to the core of who I am, or because I try to invest all that I am into people. I don’t know, but I feel like I should be okay, but the truth is, I am not.

I know we broke up three months ago, and I honestly have been praying that he has been doing well. He seems happy, and thats what I wanted all along, but that still doesn’t erase the pain.

I want to be his friend, but I don’t know if I can. Once you have known someone so intimately, is there ever the chance of having a less intimate relationship and without hoping for more?

Will I ever have a close relationship again? I am on constant guard. “Don’t get too close Candace, it will just happen again.” “Don’t allow yourself to feel, you know how bad it hurts.” At the same time, thats exactly what I want, a close relationship.

I am 23 years old, and don’t know how to be. I have been the “friend” to guys for so long, that I don’t even know how to act or what to think. Its like regressing back to fourteen, but I only wish it was that easy. Now, I have had experience.  I know all too well the pain of knowing and losing.

Why must everything happen at once? I trust that God has an answer, but I also know that I need to experience my pain. Stuffing it only works for so long.

So tonight I will sulk, with hopes that tomorrow will be at least .0001% better.

I am sure that by now many of you have heard about “the unfortunate tea incident of 2009.” For those of you that have not, allow me to explain.

As I was leaving work on March 13, 2009, all I could think about was getting home. It was my brother Grant’s sixteenth birthday and my brother Zach was coming home from college with his new girlfriend. The night before I had made a cake, and I could not wait to celebrate the day with my family.

I arrived home, and was quickly introduced to my brother’s new girlfriend, Jimmi Cheyenne Fisher. As the rest of my family met Cheyenne, we all moved into the kitchen to talk around the table.

It was a brisk day, and I decided to make myself some tea. I took a mug out of the kitchen cabinet, filled it up with water, and placed it in the microwave. Forgetting that the microwave at home heats much quicker than the microwave at work, I set the cook time for two minutes. The timer chimed and I put in my tea bag and headed for the table. I set my tea in the middle of the table and waited for it to brew.

In the mean time, I started telling a story. Everyone who knows me, knows I cannot tell a story without moving my hands. Well sure enough, as I was making crazy gestures, I knocked the mug, and tea splashed into my lap. Without a moment to think, I felt intense pain shooting down my abdomen and legs, ripped my pants off, and fell to the floor. My first reaction was to laugh and make an off-the-cuff joke about being a stripper until I looked down at my stomach. Skin was hanging off my abdomen and blisters were forming on my left leg. Then it hit me, pain like I had never felt before.

My body started to convulse, and it was quite apparent that I was experiencing shock. Zach franitically began searching burn treatmenton the internet, while my mom went outside to cut some leaves off her aloe vera plants, and I was on the floor yelling for Viacodin. I can only imagine that Cheyenne was watching all of this, wondering why she had come home with Zach, and what kind of crazy stripper he had as a sister.

Cool water. The answer to immediate burn treatmentment was cool water. So as my body continued to convulse, I was moved to the couch and cool compresses were delivered to me over the next two hours. After two hours, the pain had subsided enough for me to change clothes and eat some dinner. Needless to say, I ruined my brother’s birthday and my brother’s girlfriend thought I was a freak.

That night, I decided to sleep and worry about my wound later. The next morning, the burn looked even worse. I was missing about a four inch diameter oval of skin on my stomach and splotches of skin on my left leg. After consulting a few people, I decided to go the doctor on Monday. Luckily I was able to get an appointment. Upon seeing my burns, the clinic awarded me the day’s most gruesome wound award.  The doctor gave me some prescription cream and told me to come back the day after next.

Now,after three weeks, I am finally healed but terribly disfigured. I will never be able to wear a swimsuit again (or so it feels)! My stomach and legs are scarred in such a strange manner that a swimsuit would not be appropriate attire. I have, however, learned an important lesson. The microwave can heat liquid beyond boiling point without bubbling, therefore, liquid should never be heated in the microwave. It can easily reach 300 degrees without warning, and disfigure the left leg and stomach of its unsuspecting victim. Be careful, and boil tea in a kettle like a pilgrim not in the microwave like a product of the 21st century.

Somewhat pressed for time, I started the stove and quickly frothed the milk. I took two traveler mugs out of the cupboard and grabbed the sugar-free hazelnut syrup. I hastily poured the syrup into the mugs, as Kim stood nearby, awed by my talent and espresso making ability.

Then, all of sudden, Kim’s face turned from amusement to absolute horror. She quickly picked up the bottle of syrup and held it in the light. “What are those?!,” she exclaimed. As I examined the bottle, I noticed about ten small objects suspended in the syrup. “Fruit flies, those are fruit flies,” I stated in a confused manner. Kim shouted, “What on earth?! How did they get in there?” Upon further examination there were also fruit flies in the sugar-free caramel syrup, but not the sugar-free vanilla syrup.

The question for me was not how, but why? I mean, they obviously flew down the pouring spout, but why?! If you have read some of my previous blogs (fruit flies, and then my blog in Ecuador) you know that I have a great deal of experience with fruit flies and consider myself somewhat of an expert. My understanding was that fruit flies are attracted to sweet liquids such as rotting fruits liquor, and wine; all of which contain sugar. However, these flies flew into sugar-FREE syrup! Were they just stupid, or mistaken, and why did they not fly into the sugar-free vanilla syrup? Matter of fact, I found a fruit fly hanging out in our Brita water pitcher (good thing the filter purifies stuff). Either fruit flies are getting dumber, purposely committing suicide, or I am not such a great fruit fly expert.

I choose to believe either of the first two theories.

I am a fruit fly expert.

For those of you who don’t know, my grandpa has terminal cancer. I called my grandpa today to see how he was doing. He gets tired easily, lately, and can’t talk for too long, but we did have a nice conversation. He was actually quite excited about a new invention his wife helped him discover, a straw! Genius! My grandfather has been having great difficulty swallowing, and cannot drink for a cup anymore, as too much water floods his mouth. My grandma suggested using a straw, and my grandpa, being his stubborn self, said “that isn’t going to work.” He tried it anyway, and low and behold, he was able to get the perfect amount of water out of a straw. He said that he and Grandma Joan are going to patent it, … this straw invention.

Even though my grandpa is dying, he still has humor and is able to rejoice in the simplest things. Now this is what I call resilience, and I feel it is from the Holy Spirit at work in his heart. He is incredibly strong, and does not fear death, he told me. His strength and positivity in the face of adversity are so admirable to me. I hope when I am in that stage of life, I can have the same attitude. … I love you grandpa!

A wicked flash in the distance
The grumblings of thunder giving way to the sensation of rain
Stolen from time we remain facing the water
Searching for the point where the city lights fade into the shadows
I avoid the empty sadness in your eyes

Howling wind on the brink of our blanket
The upheaval of oak leaves sting our delicate skin
Thoughts race through my mind as your look meets my gaze
Into the brown depths of your soul, I can hear your melody
Holding onto promises that were never forgotten

Dripping rain clings to your face
The air begins to calm and the sky becomes hushed
Our entangled hearts reach for a future surrendered so long ago
Diving into the unknown we stumble upon the wreckage
Used to pull each other down from a life not so far behind

Florescent rays of dawn creep onto the horizon
The illumination of our bodies silhouette the situation
Tomorrow has come wearing a smile of serenity
Anticipating the moment, we embrace, hand in hand
Enlacing fingers, we hold onto the love that will never die