this isn't so bad.

Well lovely readers, no mail today of course. And nothing on Saturday, so I'm expecting some serious letters on Tuesday! I've been getting so spoiled recieving something every day, and the days just drag and drag when I don't find anything in our little red mail box.

So since today is the 4th of July and all, my family and I were supposed to go see fireworks at a park nearby. But of course, it had to rain and ruin our plans. I hate when stuff like this happens! I'm a sucker for some fireworks, and now it will have to wait until next year.

I miss B a lot. I'm constantly so lost in thought remembering things about him and us. Today, mom and I were driving through a parking lot and I interrupted her and said, "Aw, this is where we had our first kiss, right over there..." Never thought the first time I kissed him would be in a parking lot...but whatever. It worked for us.

Or the times I blurt out in the middle of a conversation: "I wonder what he's doing right at this minute." Oh, I'll tell you what he's doing right now...SLEEPING. My recruit apparently sleeps from 8pm to 3:30am and is awoken by DI's screaming, "LIGHTS! LIGHTS! LIGHTS!" At least that's what his letters tell me.

I have this routine I have to do at bedtime now; at least most nights I do it. I'll write him a letter, look through our photo album (which is sooo lacking on pictures), randomly read a few of the letters he's written me, and maybe write some more on his letter before cramming it in an envelope so I don't write too much and get all mushy and lovey-dovey sounding. Because that is so not cool to send to Parris Island.

I never thought that my husband; the quiet, cocky, open, whirlwind would be at USMC boot camp. This never even crossed our minds back in the early days, yet here we are because it's the road we've decided to cross in our life.

I just can't wait to see him on graduation day (assuming his knee won't give him any more problems, landing him in MRP). Now that will be indredible.

memories.

Our days at our teeny tiny apartment are drawing to a close. Less than two months left. And at the rate things have been going, those two months will go by pretty quickly. We were having our usual late-night conversation last night, remembering random things that have happened to us over the course of our lease. Our first apartment, living as grown-ups (most of the time). "Hey, how about that time the pipe under the kitchen sink busted at six in the morning? ON MY BIRTHDAY!" B would say, snickering as he re-enacted the events of the geyser shooting out of the sink cabinet. I had to sit there and keep my hand over it, which didn't do much, while he ran in his PJ's to get the landlord. Our carpet was wet for days. I thought I could one-up that one, but to no avail. "How about when we got all those fish and that one attacked most of them so you had to stick your hands in and get the killer fish out?!" YES. That was probably one of our worst money-wasting purchases EVER. We had bought a nice fish tank and probably ten fish. "Oh yeah, all those fish will be fine together. They all get along," the apparently not-so-knowledgable employee told us (note to self: don't buy fish at Wal-Mart ever again). The next day we found fish parts strewn across the tank and the killer fish swimming happily in the middle of it. I swear this is no exaggeration. So, since we failed to purchase a fish net for incidents like this, B had to stick his hand in the tank and get out the culprit. I had a picture of him holding the killer, but can't find it...you'll have to do without. That sorry thing was immediately flushed. We brought back the dead fish in individual baggies (like we were told to if they died) and they gave us a refund. Or how about the time we had just watched FOUR Saw movies, and B snuck up on me in the shower and grabbed me through the shower curtain? I thought I had met death when I felt those arms around me. (Forgot to mention he had turned the light off too.) Oh wait, how about this one? He beat me in Scrabble several nights in a row, and that is just unheard of. He is a self-proclaimed illiterate (not really, he can read) who can't write or spell for anything. And he beat me. ME. To this day I still don't know how he did it. The night he colored my hair was pretty awesome. He did a fantastic job, however I didn't use my trust John Freida color-saving shampoo so it was gone after three days. But those three days were awesome. "Krystal, your hair looks so good! Who did it?!" people would ask. I haven't dyed it since because I've realized my natural color is way better, but being a brunette for a while was nice. On Sundays after church (this was way back in the day when I didn't work on Sunday...) we would drag the mattress off our bed and get a ton of blankets and plop it all in front of our TV and watch movies all day (helloooo run on sentence). We haven't done that in a while, but I do miss it. Maybe before he leaves we can do it again, just for old-times sake. So readers, tell me your favorite memory of your first place! Either with your spouse or alone!