<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:07:09.079+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Jennifer.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114323599902144119</id><published>2006-03-24T22:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T12:23:49.043+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Not much.</title><content type='html'>You know you're on your period when all you want is Hersheys caramel kisses, Chinese food and orange juice ALL AT THE SAME TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went with Sallee today to see her twins at the hospital.  They're doing great.  They're eating without their feeding tubes which is awesome and they're gaining weight.  They should be home soon!  They're so adorable! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treys been off work since Thursday at 3pm.  We decided today we wanted to do something special so we're  going away for the weekend to spend some alone time together.  We'll be back Monday night.  Hopefully I'll have fun filled traveling adventures to tell.  Probably not - more like hotel room do not disturb stories. I'll spare you and NOT tell those. Heeh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114323599902144119?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114323599902144119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114323599902144119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114323599902144119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114323599902144119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/not-much.html' title='Not much.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114293833465869039</id><published>2006-03-21T11:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T12:07:55.150+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No witty subject here.</title><content type='html'>Trey and I had a nice weekend.  Saturday night some friends and us went out to eat.  The first part of dinner started out as one of the most horrible dining experience in our entire lives.  We get to the restaurant, they forget we have 10 people coming, despite our reservations.  They move people around, then we have to pay 2,00 euro just to get in the restaurant because some Australian guys are there playing some Australian music with some Australian tree trunks.  I don't think it was music - it sounded more like humming into a tree trunk and it was the most horrific noise I'd ever heard.  Sallee's daughter, Aliya, kept putting her hands over her ears and shaking her head NO and I told her I AM THINKING THAT EXACT SAME THING, ONLY IM NOT TWO AND IT WOULD BE RUDE IF I DID THAT.  Finally the music stopped, finally our food came THREE HOURS LATER because the restaurant was so packed with people who wanted to hear weird tree trunk humming.  Despite that, we had a really good time laughing and joking around.  Our other friends, Dan and Adrian, have Dan's mother in town.  She came out to eat as well, and if you know Dan, you would understand exactly why he is the way he is.  She was probably the craziest mom I have ever met in my entire life.  She kept ordering drinks, and kept trying to get us to drink.  Trey and I rarely drink, and we were getting pissed because when you tell someone NO, I DONT WANT TO DRINK, NOT EVEN ONE leave it at that.  Yes, we realize its Trey's birthday. WE STILL DONT WANT TO DRINK. Shut up! After dinner she wanted to go to clubs and go dancing, and Trey and I couldn't help but think, wow, we're only in our 20's but compared to this lady the most boring people she has ever met.  She invited us all to go, but Trey and I and Sallee and Cevan declined because we are so boring and uninteresting and said something like, "We would go BUT, we have a pretty fierce game of monopoly scheduled for tonight."  We're awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was pretty uneventful.  We went to the PX, bought some stuff we needed, went grocery shopping, went to wash the car, but the car wash was closed because GERMAN'S DON'T DO ANYTHING ON SUNDAY'S.  Later Sallee came over to our house to hang out, then said they might go walking later since its really nice out.  About an hour later we all walked to the river behind our house.  Sallee's mom is in town the help babysit since Sallee had her twins.  Her mom didn't want to go walking with us; she said she would just stay home and let Sallee and Cevan go as a family.  Then Sallee replies, "Okay, that's great! We're gonna go get the Simpsons then!"  Heeh.  The walk was fun, they took their dog Shelby, and Trey kept pushing her into the river.  Then we got mad because Shelby kept shaking water off of her and onto all of us.  I tried to push Trey in the river, but damn him and his army combat skills because it didn't work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday Trey had to go to work, despite promises of Monday off.  They actually had a good reason to go to work, and they said they would make up for the missed day this coming weekend which was something they used to &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; do, but have actually been keeping their word with in the past.  I was sad he had to go to work, but when I turned on the TV for the first time since I've been in Germany I realized, holy crap! This isn't my regular programming on (the armed forces network) my one English TV channel. They totally changed everything, and its completely awesome. After 3 years of living here watching one channel and complaining, THEY FINALLY CHANGED IT to what EVERYONE thought it should be.  No more news, no more Today show from 1pm-until 3pm. No more cartoons from 3pm until 5pm and best of all NO MORE SPORTS ON THE WEEKENDS.  Everyone who wants sports, cartoons and news, should buy the satellite, and pay for for those channels, and it shouldn't take up our one channel us cheap people have.  THANK YOU AFN FOR THE CHANGES. I was a lazy housewife before, BUT NOW I'm completely useless watching all this wonderful TV programming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114293833465869039?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114293833465869039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114293833465869039&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114293833465869039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114293833465869039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-witty-subject-here.html' title='No witty subject here.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114266196478230164</id><published>2006-03-18T06:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T10:00:58.723+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Belated Birthday.</title><content type='html'>I arrived in Germany safe and sound.  When Trey saw me come through the doors at the airport, he took off running towards me so fast I thought I was going to die.  I guess he barely made three days alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was his 24th birthday. (I love you, baby! HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the MOST WONDERFUL MAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!)  I feel bad because I suck so bad at jet lag.  We got home around 9am from the airport.  I fell asleep until 5:30pm.  Trey said he slept in bed with me until around 11:30am or so.  When I woke up at 5:30, I noticed Trey had a BIRTHDAY PARTY while I WAS SLEEPING.  I was so out if it I had NO IDEA PEOPLE WERE IN MY HOUSE.  The neighbors came over and brought him birthday treats.  He said he asked me if I wanted to get up since everyone was over, I have no recollection of that moment.  Later we ordered some dinner since I didn't feel like going anywhere.  We ate, watched a movie then I feel back to sleep around 9PM.  They always tell you on long over night flights that when you arrive at your destination to stay awake as much as possible.  If you don't, you wont sleep at night when you are supposed to.  Well, they are right about that.  I woke up at 2AM this morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.  Ready to start my day.  At 2:30am I got tired of waiting and I woke Trey up too.  I made him a birthday breakfast. I made him all his favorite fried greasy breakfast foods and biscuits.  I had bought some of those 30 second microwave Pilsbury biscuits.  They seem so easy to make.  The directions say to take desired number of biscuits out of bag.  Place in Microwave for 30 seconds. Watch biscuits carefully. In 30 seconds they're ready to eat.  What they neglected to write on there was &lt;i&gt;you better watch them carefully because THEY MIGHT CATCH ON FIRE LIKE MINE DID.&lt;/i&gt;  I was frying some sausage when Trey and I both smelled something burning. I thought it was the sausage, but it didn't LOOK like it was burning.  Then the microwave goes DING and that's when we notice the whole thing is filled with SMOKE and there is a fiery ball of death sitting inside of it.  Only one biscuit caught on fire, the other one was rather delightful.  And to think a few months back I was giving Trey a hard time for wanting to buy that fire extinguisher. Good thing he didn't listen to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I feel bad for not really doing anything for Trey yesterday on his birthday, I told him the whole weekend could be his birthday and boy is he taking that one in.  Today we're both going to go with Sallee and Cevan to the hospital to see their new twins. Then we're going to have lunch. For lunch Trey is having a pizza party, just like if he were turning 4, not 24 because its &lt;i&gt;HIS BIRTHDAY AND IF HE WANTS A PIZZA PARTY HE CAN HAVE ONE&lt;/i&gt;.  I told him OKAY!  Then later tonight some of his other friends are throwing him some parties, so we'll be attending those.  Should be fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its good to be back home in Germany with Trey.  Even if my kitchen smells like burnt biscuits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114266196478230164?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114266196478230164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114266196478230164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114266196478230164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114266196478230164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/happy-belated-birthday.html' title='Happy Belated Birthday.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114247789809106225</id><published>2006-03-16T03:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T03:58:18.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Role Reversal.</title><content type='html'>Trey will be home alone a total of 3 nights by the time I get to Germany.  I don't know if he can make it.  Ha.  He feels sad and lonely since I'm not there.  He has been complaining how our house is so quiet and sad without me there with him.  He told me he would probably go bananas if we didn't have our cat, Laura Grace to keep him company.  He has never stayed a single night in our house alone.  Ever. He told me he realizes how hard it is on us Army wives now.  I told him he really doesn't have any idea since its only &lt;i&gt;three nights.&lt;/i&gt;  He should try waiting over a &lt;i&gt;year&lt;/i&gt; like I did for him!  He has never before been the one to &lt;i&gt;wait for me&lt;/i&gt; to come home, had to clean the house for &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; arrival, had to wait for &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; phone calls.  And now that he is the one waiting, wondering and anticipating, its driving him nuts.  And I like it.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to go back.  I miss him more than I thought I ever would.  I didn't think it would be such a big deal since he was only gone 50 days, not 13 months like in the past.  But I feel like he has been gone forever.  I'm ready to get back to Germany and have our normal lives again.  We've been talking a lot on the phone (for HOURS), and bless my moms wonderful heart.  She hasn't said a word to me about it and I know she wont make me pay the gigantic phone bill she is going to receive next month.  MOMMY, I LOVE YOU!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have brownies in the oven I need to take out.  I'm baking Trey some blondie brownies.  Hopefully I wont eat them all on the plane before I get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I post I'll be back in Germany.  Woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114247789809106225?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114247789809106225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114247789809106225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114247789809106225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114247789809106225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/role-reversal.html' title='Role Reversal.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114235525354927064</id><published>2006-03-14T17:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T17:54:13.566+01:00</updated><title type='text'>He's home.</title><content type='html'>Trey is &lt;i&gt;finally&lt;/i&gt; home.  Even though I'm not in Germany with him, just knowing that he is actually home, in our house, with our things, with our cat and that I can call him whenever I feel like it, even if its 3AM, makes everything okay.  I've been so nervous and excited these past few days.  I've done nothing but think about him, think about us, and wish Thursday would hurry up and get here so I can leave and go back to Germany.  I love Trey so much.  Its ridiculous really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get into Germany at 6am on Friday morning.  Trey is going to the airport to pick me up.  I cant wait!  He wont have to go back to work until Tuesday, so we are going to have a long weekend of just enjoying each other.  And nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eeeee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114235525354927064?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114235525354927064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114235525354927064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114235525354927064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114235525354927064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/hes-home.html' title='He&apos;s home.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114213438370485348</id><published>2006-03-12T04:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T04:33:05.530+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoot Ouch.</title><content type='html'>Earlier tonight my Mom, sister and I order some food from the restaurant down the road.  My sister and I leave to pick up our take out order.  On the way up there we see something massive sitting in the middle of the road, right on the yellow line.  We both realize, holy crap, ITS A HUGE OWL.  I started yelling at my sister to turn around so I can save his life.  The poor guy was in the middle of the road!  She hates animals, says her food is getting cold at the restaurant and if he is alive on the way back we can stop.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home he is still in fact in the middle of the busy highway.  We pull over.  Here I am in pajamas, destined to save the life of this poor little creature that is obviously injured, endangered, and could CLAW MY EYES OUT.  I was trying to figure out a way to get him off the busy road, not get eaten alive, and us both not get hit by a car.  My sisters suggestion was to just run up there and grab him, throw him in the ditch and go.  I told her she was crazy.  He does not have claws - HE HAS HUGE TALONS.  Its pitch black out, and its a very busy road, so every time a car came I had to run over to the ditch, fingers crossed the car doesn't kill him.  I found a rubber maid box lid in my sisters car.  I figured I could push him off the highway with it.  I walk up to him, his wing is clearly broke, but I take the box lid and start pushing.  The owl just looks at me like I'm retarded.  He was a lot heavier than I anticipated and the pushing wasn't working. I figured he would start hopping off the road or SOMETHING.  Instead he just hoots at me.  A few more cars pass, I go back to the car to devise a new plan to get him off the road.  I found the huge rubbermaid box that goes with the lid. I figured I could put the box on top of him, then slide the lid under it.  While thinking this strategy up, here comes a car, going a good, I know, 85 miles per hour towards us.  I figured the car would slow down, like all the other cars did. Thats what people usually do when they approach a car on the side of the raod with their blinkers on. I also figured they would slow down especially since the owl is MASSIVE and our head lights are CLEARLY on him and you can see what is in the highway a good distance ahead.  But no - the car slams into the bird.  A big ball of feathers fly into the air and all over the place.  It was horrid. The way it sounded when the car hit the owl was horrible. I'm going to have bad dreams. I'm scarred for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my sister could say was, "well, problem solved.  Lets go eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is so sensitive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114213438370485348?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114213438370485348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114213438370485348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114213438370485348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114213438370485348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/hoot-ouch.html' title='Hoot Ouch.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114191863799092979</id><published>2006-03-09T16:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T16:38:14.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Boobs.</title><content type='html'>Just &lt;a href="http://kevan.org/johari?name=purdyblueyegrl" target="new"&gt;do this&lt;/a&gt; because everyone else is doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't have boobs, you should really buy some.  I'm going to tell you why.  Yesterday I was driving my brothers car (the reason why I was driving his car is another story in itself.) to my sisters house.  I'm going along my merry way then a State Trooper pulls me.  CRAP.  I knew I was speeding and I knew I wasn't wearing my seat belt.  There wasn't any possible way I was going to sneak the stupid seat belt on at this point, he was watching me.  I was pretty much screwed.  So I'm thinking this is going to be great.  He walks up to the car.  Upon further inspection of the car, he finds that the tags are expired AND the inspection sticker is out.  Now this is really going to be wonderful.  Finally he says &lt;i&gt;"So you were going a little fast back there?  And is there any reason why you're not wearing your seat belt?"&lt;/i&gt;  *Que flirty slut mode*  &lt;i&gt;"Well, officer, I was speeding because this isn't my car and I'm not used to driving anything like this.  And as for the seat belt, well, I had it on, but I had the shoulder belt tucked under my arm because I, well, I don't like it to pull across my boobs! &lt;/i&gt;*starts feeling up chest*&lt;i&gt;"&lt;/i&gt;  He then laughs, and falls for my whole stupid girl act, because what guy isn't going to fall for anything mentioning BOOBS.  He told me at least I was being honest about it and that was probably the first time he had ever heard that excuse before.  He asked to see my license.  I handed it over.  Then he asked if the address on my license was my current address.  I said no. (This next line is get out of a ticket secret weapon number two.)  When he asked what my current address was I replied, &lt;i&gt;"My husband is in the Army and we are stationed in Germany.  He's gone right now &lt;/i&gt;*cue sad face*&lt;i&gt;, so I'm just here visiting and I leave to go back to Germany next week."&lt;/i&gt;  He replies, &lt;i&gt;"I'm sorry he is gone, honey.  Let me go to my car and I'll be right back."&lt;/I&gt;  At this point I still wasn't 100% sure I wasn't getting 4 tickets, but I felt good about the outcome.  I'm never really worried about these things anyway, since Trey's dad is a lawyer and he gets me out of every bit of trouble I've ever gotten myself into.  The state trooper comes back to the car.  &lt;b&gt;Warning ticket&lt;/b&gt; in hand.  He tells me that I need to tell my brother to get the car inspected right away, get the tags renewed, that I should keep an eye on my speed, and that I should wear my seat belt across my chest because if I were to get into a wreck &lt;i&gt;he would hate to see something bad happen to a pretty girl like me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank the lord for big boobs and gullible men.  I know if I was a 21 year old guy driving that mustang, with all those offenses, I would have found myself in court a few weeks from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the joys of being a woman.  Trey would be proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114191863799092979?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114191863799092979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114191863799092979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114191863799092979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114191863799092979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/boobs.html' title='Boobs.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114179199253584738</id><published>2006-03-08T05:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T05:42:59.176+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Jibber Jabber.</title><content type='html'>I have nothing of real interest to update with, so this is just going to be a whole lot of rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been totally slacking with everything that has anything to do with being online.  My blog, eBay sales, etc.  I've been a total slacker on eBay. I keep forgetting to send out invoices and to ship things in a timely manner.  No one has been mean yet, so that's good.  Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey called Sunday for the first time in two and a half weeks.  He's been out where they don't get cell phone reception and they don't have a phone center.  Did I get to talk to Trey Sunday when he called?  NOPE.  Are my feelings hurt?  YES.  I decided to be a good daughter in law and go with Trey's mom to see his niece in a play. It was a cute play.  I had a good time with his parents on Sunday. We had lunch, hung out, etc.  But while at the play, Trey calls my house to talk to me.  He had no idea I was with his parents and that I wasn't going to be home.  My parents tell Trey that I'm at his parents house.  Trey calls their house and I'm no where to be found due to being at the play.  Only Treys Dad is home so his Dad gets the whole 15 minute phone call that was &lt;i&gt;supposed to belong to me&lt;/i&gt;.  Am I jealous? GOD YES.  He probably wont call again until later this week.  I refuse to leave the house from this point on.  I am glad that he did get to talk to someone, even if it wasn't me.  And just knowing that he always calls me when he gets a chance first and that I'm his number one choice anyway makes everything okay.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly can't wait to go back to Germany.  I feel like I've been living with my parents forever.  Its fine really, but I just don't feel like I can relax here.  I don't have all of my things or my favorite foods and its getting annoying.  I love my parents but this just isn't &lt;i&gt;my home&lt;/i&gt; anymore like it used to be.  I miss snuggling my cat at night.  I really miss Trey due to our lack of conversation mostly.  Surprisingly I haven't been down in the dumps about not talking to him, just a little weird feeling and anxious for him to call.  More than anything I'm just ready to get back to Germany and be with him until he deploys.  I'm counting down the days until I leave and I don't feel like it can come soon enough.  I almost feel like I did when he was deployed.  I have all these crazy feelings that I don't know what to do with and the time for me to get back with him just cant get here soon enough.  I've been trying to keep busy, so I've been shopping.  A lot. I have so many new clothes iys pathetic, but I'm a sucker for all those new spring colors.  I love love love spring and summer clothes and I can never get enough!  Now if it would just get warm enough to wear some of those new clothes I'd be even happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say Congrats to my neighbors in Germany, Sallee and Cevan, on their new &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51862275@N00/107621612/" target="new"&gt;twin babies&lt;/a&gt;; Aiden and Abigale.  They were born at 33 weeks and weigh a little over 3   pounds each.  They are doing great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sallee, when you come home (Saturday?) and read this, I just want you to know that I LOVE YOU GUYS! I'm going to steal your babies and spoil them and make them completely ROTTEN!  That's what good neighbors are for!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay - this post has been bad enough so I'll spare everyone and end it here.   Maybe next time I'll have something more interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114179199253584738?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114179199253584738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114179199253584738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114179199253584738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114179199253584738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/jibber-jabber.html' title='Jibber Jabber.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114132722019878824</id><published>2006-03-02T20:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T20:20:20.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay.</title><content type='html'>For the past couple of days, I have been reading the comments, and emails left for me. I want to apologize to everyone who wrote an email. I'm sorry I haven't responded. I promise I'll get to it soon. Since all the outpouring of support I've been looking for a word to describe how I feel, knowing that Trey will deploy in about 3 or 4 months, knowing that there are people across the world who are praying for things to change, for him to not leave; and I can't. There isn't one. Comforted and moved and overwhelmed don't even begin to cover it. Just having the support of so many people is incredible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I'm doing really well with the news. The first day I was told about the stoploss I kept breaking down. I had a good long cry with my Mom. I felt as if the whole world hated me. Like God hated me. Like nothing in my life is supposed to work out or be happy. Then I thought back to Treys last deployment. Then I realized that God does everything for a reason. That's exactly how I feel right now. I feel like there is a reason for this. That all of this is supposed to happen. That for some strange reason this needs to happen for us. I don't know why I feel that way, but whenever I want to get upset about the whole thing, I just cant. I get this overwhelming feeling that everything is going to be just fine. That I shouldn't be sad, because something wonderful is going to come out of this, even though I cant see that right now. God's reasons for doing things are far beyond my own understanding. I'm no longer going to question God or ask, "why?". I hate this situation, I hate that Trey is leaving me again to deploy and being powerless to stop it, and just wanting to make everything okay again. Yet I know in my heart there is a purpose in everything God does, I know he is teaching me, and I know He will carry me through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this is a tough situation, I am still able to smile because I have learned from Trey's past deployment that I really do trust God. I don't need Him to "make things right" for me. I don't need a reason for the trials in my life. I am learning to surrender and I am thankful because it is FAR easier to surrender then fight. I don't mean surrender in an "okay I have been beaten down so much I am not standing up again" sense. I mean surrender as in "God I really do trust you - I can't understand but I am willing to let you make these choices in my life without fighting you" sense. I am able to say this with a strength that is not my own. I feel the Lord's comfort and peace in my heart and I know everything is going to work out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I am thankful for my husband. Everyday I am so happy to be married to him. Everyday I see the beauty of God's plan. I certainly didn't plan to get married and spend the first years of my marriage apart and I never expected I would love someone else more than anything in my life, but I wouldn't change it for the world. As a result, each time I look back on Treys last deployment I am reminded that God is God and I am not. There were day's that I had to remind myself that God loved me because I was certainly feeling punished. I am very happy to tell you that I am past that. God is not angry at me. I am not being punished and He loves me more than I can comprehend and every part of my being knows it. He is my comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last few days I have received so many precious emails and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for them. Especially those from military families - you have walked in my shoes and I know you know where I am at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From reading all the emails, I know so many of you are upset about this. How it seems so unfair and we shouldn't have to go through all this again. I am very sorry if this brings anger to your heart at the seemingly "unjust of it all". A few months back when we didn't know if Trey would deploy again or not, I asked God to choose for me. I promised to do my best to bring my heart around to His choice. He chose this path out of His love for us even though it doesn't look that way today. I know it with all my heart and it makes this burden much easier to live with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114132722019878824?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114132722019878824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114132722019878824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114132722019878824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114132722019878824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/03/okay.html' title='Okay.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114106922305641802</id><published>2006-02-27T20:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T20:40:23.083+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Forget Everything.</title><content type='html'>I hate the Army.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today a stoploss happened.  A lot sooner than anyone thought.  Unexpected this early.  It happened.  What that means is, Trey will be deploying to Iraq later this year.  I cant stop crying.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is part of the email that I got today;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a list of 655 soldiers that will be affected by the Stop loss within the 2ND Brigade Combat Team; this means that 655 soldiers from 2BCT that were scheduled to leave the U.S. ARMY within the dates of 3rd March 2006 to 29 September 2007, will be kept in the service until 30 September 2007.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were so close to having everything we ever wanted.  So close to having a normal life.  So close to not having to worry about all that crap that being in the Army entails.  Now all of that doesn't matter anymore.  I'll spend the next year of my life waiting.  Crying. Worrying.  Living attached to a cell phone. All over again.  I'm so pissed at the world right now.  I don't know what to do.  How to feel.  All I can do is cry.  I don't really feel like writing everything I should about this.  I mostly just wanted to write this because writing on my blog usually makes me feel a little better.  I think all its doing right now is making me cry harder.  I HATE THE FUCKING ARMY SO DAMN MUCH!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all I know to say right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114106922305641802?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114106922305641802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114106922305641802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114106922305641802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114106922305641802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/forget-everything.html' title='Forget Everything.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114075194983487393</id><published>2006-02-24T04:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T04:32:29.853+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Country Living.</title><content type='html'>I'm from a really small town.  I've grown up here my entire life.  It wasn't until I got older that I realized how annoying living in a small town was.  Everyone around here knows everything about you.  Sometimes its nice - there are always people there to lend a helping hand.  Sometimes its just strange.  Yesterday I was at the bank getting some mortgage stuff done.  This is how the conversation went with the mortgage broker;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; what's your name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Jennifer Simpson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; Oh! Your parents are Dennis and Sue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Yep, that's them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; Is your husband home from Iraq yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Yeah, he's been home a year now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt;  that's wonderful. How is your sister and her new baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; They're doing great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; You're going to be home for good in April, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; I hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; I heard there was a possibility Trey could go back to Iraq again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Yeah, but right now it looks like he wont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; that's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Uhh, I'm sorry, am I supposed to know you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bank Lady:&lt;/b&gt; No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does some random lady working at a bank know everything there is to know about my life and my family?  I wonder if its gotten out yet that I was picking my nose just a few minutes ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday is another big house hunting day.  I'm going to see some really nice properties and I feel really good about this trip.  Hopefully I'll find something.  Lord knows I cant live in this small town anymore.  I'm going to take some pictures to send Trey and I'll post them here as well.  Then you guys can let me know which houses you like the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114075194983487393?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114075194983487393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114075194983487393&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114075194983487393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114075194983487393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/country-living.html' title='Country Living.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-114039067556401927</id><published>2006-02-20T00:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T20:47:35.076+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eh.</title><content type='html'>I feel strange.  I cant really explain it, I just have this strange feeling.  I guess a lot of stuff has been going on around here. I've been eating too much.  Sleeping too weird. Making a lot of important decisions.  Its just strange.  I'm in this weird mood where I really cant stand people. I dont like a lot of people who use to be my friends. I just want them to go away.  Just leave me alone. I realized I felt this same way when Trey was in Iraq so I guess it goes along with him being gone. I really miss Trey a lot lately.  I'm ready to go back to Germany. I know I sound like the hardest person in the world to please.  Either I'm in Germany complaining about how I want to be in the states, or I'm in the states complaining about how I want to be in Germany.  But the truth of the matter is that I love my husband. I just want to be with him.  While I do hate Germany, I would live there forever just to be with him.  I love being in the states, if only I could get my husband here with me.  For good.  I hate the Army.  The military life really isn't for Trey and I.  We both hate how nothing is set in stone and its hard to make decisions you need to make in life since anything can change in two seconds.  Hopefully he gets out in April as planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've been in a blogging lull, I don't have too incredibly much to update with.  Life around here is just like it always is.  Saturday I'm going with my mom to see a few houses.  Maybe I'll buy, maybe I wont.  It all depends.  Today my Dad and I went car shopping.  My dad has a friend who is a car dealer.  He orders cars for us at the factory price.  You would &lt;i&gt;die&lt;/i&gt; if you knew how much the mark up on cars is.  You'd never buy a car again if you knew how much the dealer was paying and how much money they make off of you.  Its crazy really.  I think I want a Nissan Altima or a Honda Accord.  We might get rid of our Nissan Xterra, but since its paid for, we cant decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, since I missed the Valentines update, I'll say it now - Happy Valentines Day.  I hope everyone had a great one filled with lots of candy and love from the people close to them.  Trey sent me flowers, candy and a necklace.  I didn't know I was getting anything since he is gone right now, but I guess he had his mom plan it out for him. Aww.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It finally got cold in North Carolina yesterday and it snowed today.  North Carolina weather is crazy.  Saturday it was 75 degrees and the sun was shining. Sunday it turns to 20 degrees and today its snowing.  We don't get &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt; snow here, it barely covered the ground but everyone around here panic's like they're going to die.  It kills me.  &lt;i&gt;ohmigod, there are snow flurries falling from the sky. Hurry! Go to the grocery store and stock up on all the nonperishable goods because we might get stuck in this blizzard and die!"&lt;/i&gt;  Ha. I guess we're just not used to snow, that's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-114039067556401927?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/114039067556401927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=114039067556401927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114039067556401927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/114039067556401927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/eh.html' title='Eh.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113988103473510068</id><published>2006-02-14T02:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T02:37:14.810+01:00</updated><title type='text'>New pictures.</title><content type='html'>I dont really have anything to update with, so I'll just show you &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/51862275@N00/99456871/in/set-72057594061998505/" target="new"&gt;some new baby pictures&lt;/a&gt;.  All of these are from day two.  Everyone loves a baby, right?  Ok - not everyone but oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113988103473510068?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113988103473510068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113988103473510068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113988103473510068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113988103473510068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/new-pictures.html' title='New pictures.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113980664698178312</id><published>2006-02-13T05:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T05:57:27.043+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever.</title><content type='html'>I have no real topic for this post, I'm just bored and wanted to post about random stuff.  First off I would like to announce that "the baby" was finally given a name.  They named her on day two, Ashtyn Brylee.  I guess spelling Ashton with a "Y" makes it a girl name, so a baby book said.  The name Brylee comes from my sister and her husbands names; Bryan + Kelly.  Eh.  Not what I would have named my kid, but then again what can I say since it isn't my kid.  Ahstyn looks a lot cuter now, I hate how all newborns have that swollen smashed up face. Haha.  Yes, they're all still cute in their own way, but you all know what I mean even if you don't want to admit it. She actually has features now and is just adorable.  The sad part is, she looks just like me when I was a baby.  God bless her heart.  She is the best baby I've ever seen.  She never cries.  When she is hungry she might squeak a little and look around as if saying, "Ok guys, where is the food?"  but other than that, she never cries unless she is cold when we're changing her diaper.  She sleeps through the night other than waking up once at 4am squeaking to be fed.  She eats at 4am then sleeps until 9am.  I can only hope God will bless me one day with such well behaved babies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Trey this morning.  It was nice since he's been calling me for 4 days straight but couldn't get up with me.  I'm glad to finally be able to tell him I loved him.  I miss him so much and I cant believe he has only been gone two weeks.  It totally sucks.  I feel like he's been gone for months.  As much as I'm glad to be home with my family, I want more than anything to be with him.  I love him so much.  I guess time away from each other is good sometimes, when he is gone I miss him like crazy and want to be with him again more than anything.  Its during these times that I realize how wonderful he is and how lucky I am to be able to spend the rest of my life with him.  My poor little heart is so sad without him.  I feel like I have a hole smashed right in the middle of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been home over a week now and I haven't gotten one single thing done that I've wanted to do.  This week I plan to work on some of it.  So much has been going on I really didn't have a chance to do a whole lot, but I really need to start looking for a house.  I've decided I probably wont buy one while I'm here, I just felt so sad doing the whole house buying thing without Trey.  Its something we both want to do together.  I've decided I'm going to look more into the neighborhoods and what not and find the location, subdivision, etc, that we want to live in, and after that we'll both decide on the house.  There is one subdivision I &lt;i&gt;thought&lt;/i&gt; I wanted to live in until my sister and I went and checked it out.  Needless to say, I have no idea where they were taking the pictures of the place I saw online because I didn't see any of it in person.  Listings should be very clear and state it out like this. Ghetto.  Not Ghetto.  The end. It would make things a whole lot easier for house hunters.  Honestly, the neighborhood isn't ghetto, and is perfectly fine, but I guess because of the way I was raised and the life style I have now, living by people with rebel flags would just be scary.  But then again, this is the south.  *shrugs*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113980664698178312?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113980664698178312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113980664698178312&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113980664698178312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113980664698178312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/whatever.html' title='Whatever.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113954301735315873</id><published>2006-02-10T04:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T04:52:12.853+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby pictures.</title><content type='html'>The new baby pictures &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51862275@N00/97761026/in/set-72057594061998505/" target="new"&gt;are right here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is almost a day old and still doesn't have a name.  Poor baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will probably be adding new pictures to the set over the next few days.  Keep checking them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113954301735315873?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113954301735315873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113954301735315873&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113954301735315873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113954301735315873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/baby-pictures.html' title='Baby pictures.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113950905740093881</id><published>2006-02-09T18:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:17:59.830+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baby Story.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://cache.gettyimages.com/xt/313737-001.jpg?v=1&amp;g=TSIR&amp;s=1" ALIGN=right HSPACE=0 VSPACE=0"&gt;She's here.  My new niece was born via csection this morning at 7:52am with her Dad there to help.  Weighing in at 7lbs 2oz and is 19 inches long.  She is the sweetest tiny baby I've ever seen.  She has the sweetest temperment and loves to be snuggled.  She has light brown hair and big blue eyes.  She has chubby cheeks just like every baby thats born into our family.  She loves her big sister and gets this happy bright eyed face whenever Kaylynd speaks to her.  Its the sweetest thing in the world to see those two together.  Kaylynd loves her baby sister and wants to hold and kiss her all the time.  The baby seems happiest when Kaylynd is talking to her and kissing her.  &lt;i&gt;The baby&lt;/i&gt; still doesnt have a name, bless her heart.  My sister cant decide between two names.  She is sweet, is going to be spoiled rotten and I cant wait until she comes home.  My sister is doing extremely well.  She is happy and glad to be able to breath again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family came home to eat some lunch and we're about to head back to the hospital.  I'll have all the pictures uploaded into a flickr album later for everyone to see.  Check back later tonight for pictures and updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies are such a nice way to start people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113950905740093881?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113950905740093881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113950905740093881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113950905740093881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113950905740093881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/baby-story.html' title='A Baby Story.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113923763579471027</id><published>2006-02-06T15:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T15:55:32.713+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged.</title><content type='html'>I don't have any exciting news to update with and since &lt;a href="http://www.militarybride.blogspot.com/" taret="new"&gt;Erika&lt;/a&gt; tagged me, I'll waste some time with this instead...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Jobs You Have Had in Your Life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Phlebotomist and Lab Specimen analyst&lt;br /&gt;2. Teacher Assistant&lt;br /&gt;3. Baby sitter to my cousin &lt;br /&gt;4. Army Wife (toughest job in the world!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Movies You Would Watch Over and Over&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mean Girls&lt;br /&gt;2. Office Space&lt;br /&gt;3. Forrest Gump&lt;br /&gt;4. Just Like Heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Places You Have Lived&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. North Carolina&lt;br /&gt;2. Vicenza, Italy&lt;br /&gt;3. Schweinfurt, Germany&lt;br /&gt;4. ...that's it...I've only lived in 3 places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 TV Shows You Love to Watch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;House&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;em&gt;Extreme Makeover: Home Edition&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;em&gt;CSI&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Places You Have Been on Vacation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Bahamas&lt;br /&gt;2. Mexico&lt;br /&gt;3. Bermuda&lt;br /&gt;4. Florida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Web- sites You Visit Daily&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the blogs in my links section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Favorite Foods&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mexican&lt;br /&gt;2. Chinese&lt;br /&gt;3. Chicken from Texas Steak House&lt;br /&gt;4. Salad with hot bacon and honey mustard dressing from Texas Steak House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Places You Would Rather Be Right Now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. With Trey&lt;br /&gt;2. At the mall&lt;br /&gt;3. Lounging on a beach.&lt;br /&gt;4. With my cat, Laura Grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 People I Tag:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; No one, you lucky bitches. Everyone I know has been tagged, and right when I &lt;i&gt;thought&lt;/i&gt; I had avoided it, it happened. Heee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113923763579471027?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113923763579471027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113923763579471027&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113923763579471027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113923763579471027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/tagged.html' title='Tagged.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113908234492066890</id><published>2006-02-04T20:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T20:45:44.940+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm here.</title><content type='html'>Yes, I made it.  I've had a lot of you asking if I made it home. So yes, here I am.  Back in the good 'ol USA.  Woo.  I've been staying at my sisters house most of the time.  We're pretty excited about the baby next week.  I don't think she is as excited as I am.  Mostly she just says she'll be happy to be able to breath again. Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done too much yet.  Mostly just visiting and trying to adjust to the time change.  I want to go to bed early here, but I've been forcing myself to stay up until at least 11pm.  I've been waking up early, around 6am, since that is 12pm in Germany.  My eyes are so sore from this weird new sleep schedule.  I don't know why, but this is the most trouble I've ever had adjusting to state side time.  Usually I have a hard time adjusting to German time, but for some reason, I've been wacky here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters mother in law died about a week ago.  She had cancer.  I was hoping that she would hang in there until I made it home, but one week short she passed away.  She was always so sweet.  I wanted to see her, but I didn't make it in time.  Also, its sad she died two weeks before my sisters baby was born.  Since I've been home I've been helping my sister sort through her things and getting her house ready to sell.  During this time you start to learn how people &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; are.  She was a really wealthy woman and has a lot of really nice things.  While my sister and I are in the house, the neighbors or her &lt;em&gt;friends&lt;/em&gt; will come over and speak with us.  While they're visiting they say, "Who is getting this? Can I have it?"  Um, excuse me?  Someone we care about just passed away and you're going to come to their house to see what you can get for free?  People are so greedy.  It really pisses me off.  Good thing her mother in law was smart.  Every single thing in the house was written in her will to someone, and if it wasnt because it were simple things, the family was told to divide it and they've done so.  No problems at all.  It just makes me so mad that people who werent even realated think theyre supposed to get something out this.  Ugh.  Whats wrong with people!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113908234492066890?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113908234492066890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113908234492066890&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113908234492066890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113908234492066890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-here.html' title='I&apos;m here.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113879746993651639</id><published>2006-02-01T13:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T13:37:50.010+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye. I am leaving because I am bored.</title><content type='html'>My last day in Germany.  I couldn't be happier.  I have a lot to get done today. Mostly because I left things undone all week on purpose so I would have something to do today.  Then there are things you can't get done until you are about to leave anyway.  I'm excited nonetheless.  My butt and I hate the 9 hour flight I am about to embark upon, but it's worth it in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey called me last night.  They aren't supposed to have cell phones with them, but he snuck his along. Of course.  We only talked about 10 minutes since we're trying to make one cell phone battery last a course of 40+ days.   We'll see.  I was so excited when the phone rang last night.  I knew it was him calling and it brought me back to all those crazy things you feel when your husband is deployed. I swear, I miss him like he's been gone for months and its only been four days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down with tons of stuff to update with.  Now I have nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/39/74544995_76531f5e47.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;Laura Grace&lt;/a&gt;, whatever it is you're trying to find in my bellybutton, I'm pretty sure its not there.  Please stop digging your paws in it every chance you get. K, thanks in advance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113879746993651639?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113879746993651639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113879746993651639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113879746993651639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113879746993651639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/02/goodbye-i-am-leaving-because-i-am.html' title='Goodbye. I am leaving because I am bored.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113864523556432383</id><published>2006-01-30T18:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T19:20:35.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Come home soon.</title><content type='html'>I'm spoiled.  Really spoiled.  It's all Treys fault too.  Today I realized how horrible I am.  Trey does the laundry. I hate it. I despise it.  So I don't do it.  End of story.  When I realized I had one clean pair of underwear left this morning, I was shocked.  How did this happen?  Why don't I have 92 pair left in the drawer like always?  &lt;i&gt;Looks at overflowing laundry basket and the laundry all over the floor surrounding it.&lt;/i&gt;  Oh, well, that explains it.  Then I thought to myself, &lt;i&gt;"Well, Trey is going to have to get to that soon. This is my last pair of underwear!"&lt;/i&gt;  Then it hit me.  He wasn't going to be able to &lt;i&gt;get to this soon&lt;/i&gt;, he isn't coming home until March and I am leaving in a matter of days and need to pack.  I cant pack dirty underwear.  Next thought; &lt;i&gt;*GASP* &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; am going to have to take care of this problem.&lt;/i&gt; Crap. I thought of only doing my laundry.  That wouldn't take as long.  Then I thought how horrible that was of me.  What kind of wife doesn't &lt;b&gt;ever&lt;/b&gt; do the laundry to begin with?  Then I thought of how proud Trey would be of me when he came home to find all his clothes clean and neatly hung in the closet and packed away in the dresser.  I decided I really wanted to make him happy and do something for him.  After six loads of laundry, comments from my neighbors about how I've become &lt;i&gt;one of them&lt;/i&gt;, I realized yet again, why I hate laundry so much and never do it.  I hope Treys happiness of clean socks can hold him over for awhile.  I can cook.  I can clean the cats poopy litter box. I can even scrub dirty toilets. But I &lt;b&gt;can not&lt;/b&gt; do laundry.  Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on that note, I would like to take this time to tell Trey that I love him and that I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I sometimes change clothes 3 times a day.  I'm sorry I change my underwear twice a day because I cant sleep in the same pair I wore that day.  I'm sorry I sometimes wear something for 45 minutes and declare it dirty, thus adding to the laundry load.  I'm sorry I throw my clothes all over the floor and you pick them up to wash them.  I'm sorry I take forgratned everything that you do for me. YOU SPOIL ME AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.  COME HOME.  My life with out you sucks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day down.  46 more to go - good thing I'll be back home to my Mommy on Thursday.  &lt;i&gt;Shew.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113864523556432383?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113864523556432383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113864523556432383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113864523556432383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113864523556432383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/come-home-soon.html' title='Come home soon.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113853627826487818</id><published>2006-01-29T12:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T13:04:41.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Good-bye.</title><content type='html'>I miss my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave Thursday to go back to the states. I wish I were leaving today.  Trey left this morning at 4:45am.  I wont see him again until March 17th.  He comes home about a week before that, but I wont get back to Germany until then.  I miss him so much already.  I'm trying not to get sad; but I still miss him.  I know I'll be fine when I get back home. I have so much to do.  I'm buying a house, my sister is having a baby and whole lot of other stuff.  I just hate when he is gone on the weekend.  This is &lt;i&gt;our&lt;/i&gt; time, not the army's time.  Tomorrow I'll be fine - I seem to be okay with him away when its a weekday.  Plus, I'll be busy packing.  Just 4 days. Four days and I'll be home with my family.  I don't want to get sad that he is gone. I'm not going to be sad that we've been married for over 3 years and &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; haven't had a Valentines Day together.  Lets look on the bright side -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isn't in Iraq for a year - its just 47 days apart.&lt;br /&gt;We're buying a house!&lt;br /&gt;I'll have a new niece on Feb. 9th.&lt;br /&gt;We only have one month left in Germany when I get back!&lt;br /&gt;No amount of money can replace my husband, but we get separation pay. Who doesn't love a few extra bucks?&lt;br /&gt;Hello's are always fun. Especially the "honeymoon phase."&lt;br /&gt;Next year when we do have Valentines together - we'll make it EXTRA special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - enough of trying to be optimistic.  I'm in search of a new digital camera so if any of you can recommend anything, I'd love to know about it.  I want a really small camera that has video with sound.  I think I might &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0007CZ70Y/sr=1-6/qid=1138536005/ref=pd_bbs_6/103-0817006-1919046?%5Fencoding=UTF8" target="new"&gt;buy this one&lt;/a&gt;, but I'm not sure.  I read the reviews and some people complained about blurry photos.  Who knows.  Oh - and if you crochet, and you have a pattern for baby booties, I'd love to hear about it.  I cant make anything that doesn't look like elf shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113853627826487818?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113853627826487818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113853627826487818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113853627826487818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113853627826487818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/good-bye.html' title='Good-bye.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113820358186611324</id><published>2006-01-25T16:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T16:44:50.576+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Update, finally.</title><content type='html'>Not a whole lot has been going on around here to update with.  If I had exciting news I would update more often.  They've started phasing in the new army ACU uniforms.&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/acu.jpg" ALIGN=right HSPACE=0 VSPACE=0" alt="ACU Uniform. Trey looks weird in this picture."&gt; I don't really know if I like them or not. I cant really make up my mind.  Trey on the other hand couldn't be more excited.  He gets to wear his new uniform a whole 3 months before he gets out of the army.  He was just excited to have his new uniform to wear to the field for 45 days.  I like the pattern of the new uniform, I'm not really a fan of the whole velcrow thing though.  At least he doesn't have to wear it all that long.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of getting out of the army, Trey has his ETS orders, we have plane tickets, even including our cat, Laura Grace.  Our household goods ship on March 20th, and we leave this hell called Germany forever.  I couldn't be more excited.  Today we had a brigade meeting for the families. It sounds as if the rumors about Iraq aren't going to affect us, which makes me even happier. I want more than anything for Trey to be out of the army. He and I would be so upset if he got stoplossed and had to go to Iraq &lt;i&gt;another&lt;/i&gt; year.  But as of this moment, it looks as if we should be just fine and I'm going to hang on to this happiness while I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished crocheting &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/garnerblanket.jpg" target="new"&gt;the baby blanket&lt;/a&gt; for my niece to be.  I kind of slacked off and had forgotten about it for awhile.  Then when I spoke to my sister the other day who informed me that the csection was scheduled for February 9th, I realized I had two weeks to stitch a blanket together.  It looks nothing like I had originally planned it out to look in my head.  But &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/garnerblanket.jpg" target="new"&gt;this is what it ended up as&lt;/a&gt; since I have limited resources in Germany and I didn't have a whole lot of time to work with.  I think its cute, but it could have been better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113820358186611324?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113820358186611324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113820358186611324&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113820358186611324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113820358186611324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/update-finally.html' title='Update, finally.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113770273182825767</id><published>2006-01-19T20:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T21:36:10.240+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomniac.</title><content type='html'>1 hour of sleep in 28 hours and I'm still going strong.  I have no idea what my problem is. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyGrumpy.gif"&gt;  I realize Trey and I have been on a horrible sleeping schedule since my surgery. We sleep whenever we feel like it, not when its dark out.  Its totally screwing with me.  Last night I went to bed at 1am, I had to get up at 6:45am to go with my neighbor Sallee on a tour of the German Hospital.  &lt;i&gt;(by the way, her twins will be here in 5 weeks and I think I'm more excited than she is!!)&lt;/i&gt; I couldn't sleep.  I slept &lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt; an hour and I'm not even tired yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hospital tour was pretty interesting.  Sallee's husband couldn't get off work to take the tour with her so we decided to go together. Everyone assumed we were life partners which made the tour even more interesting. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyOoh.gif"&gt;  I guess they couldn't help but think as much since we call each other sweetie and babe.  The Germans have a lot of birthing options. I was actually pretty impressed.  They let you try every option you want until you get comfortable.  Want to try a water birth? Sure! Don't like it? Try a CRAZY SWING!  When Sallee and I saw the swing we died laughing.  Yes, a birthing swing. An actual swing you and your partner get in and I guess swing around until a baby falls out. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyDead.gif"&gt; Whatever. At least it was funny.  We're &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; laughing about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, if you're having a baby and you have no idea what you're doing, please by all means read a book about it.  While the nurse was showing us the delivery room, the nurse explained that after you have the baby they'll lay it on your chest until you deliver your placenta. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyDuhh.gif"&gt; Then they'll take the baby and clean it up. This girl on the tour with us says, &lt;i&gt;"I'm going to deliver a what? What's a placenta? There is going to be BLOOD?"&lt;/i&gt; Um, did she REALLY just ask that question? Here is a grown woman about to give BIRTH and she doesn't even know what's going to happen to her. Poor thing.  The stupidity of some people amazes me. I don't even have kids and I know a lot about having a baby. And no matter how much I think I know, I'm &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; going to be reading all the books when I get pregnant.  People are crazy, I swear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113770273182825767?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113770273182825767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113770273182825767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113770273182825767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113770273182825767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/insomniac.html' title='Insomniac.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113749725741696253</id><published>2006-01-17T12:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T17:19:24.220+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad and sore.</title><content type='html'>It's a sad day at our house.  Trey went back to work today in what seems like forever.  He worked a total of one half day since we had gotten home from Christmas leave.  Then I got sick, he had the whole week off, not to mention it was a 4 day weekend.  I had gotten so used to him being around that I really do miss him a lot today.  I wanted to cry when I watched him go out the door.  Its so quiet and lonely around here. I miss laying in bed with him and watching TV or playing hours of Playstation 2 together.  I miss how he would rub my back and I would fall asleep in his arms. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyLoveStruck.gif"&gt; I know, I sound like he's going to be gone forever. He wrote me a letter last night while I was asleep and left it in the bathroom for me to find this morning. He always writes the sweetest things and has a way with words. I feel bad because my letters to him go something like this; &lt;i&gt;"I love you. You are special to me. You make me happy. Then end."&lt;/i&gt;  He has CQ today, which is good since everyone else is gone to a range.  No one is at work so I get to sit with him all day and he'll have tomorrow off as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was probably my best feeling day since my surgery. On a scale from 1-10, 10 being the best, I would have rated myself somewhere around 8 or 9.  Today though, I don't feel so well.  I got up early to go with my neighbor to her doctors appointment and my stomach is killing me.  My incisions have healed up pretty well, but today they're just so tender. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyIrritated.gif"&gt;  When I got home from the appointment I had to come out of my jeans. They were killing me! Its strange because I had wore jeans yesterday and even Sunday, but today is a whole new story. I also get this weird pain in my side where my appendix used to be. It feels like a running cramp. It's retarded. I just cant figure out why my incisions are so painful today.  Before they only hurt if I poked them, now I don't even my want my shirt to rub across them. &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyUnsure.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm counting down the days until I go back to the states. I leave February 2nd and I have so much to do around here and so much to do when I get to the states.  I'm excited I'll be in the states for nearly two months then only in Germany long enough to pack up and leave again! &lt;img src="http://www.adorkable.nu/wp-images/smilies2/SmileyCheer.gif"&gt; I've got some appointments set up to view some houses while I'm home. I'm pretty excited about that. I have so much going on in February and March its unreal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113749725741696253?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113749725741696253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113749725741696253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113749725741696253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113749725741696253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/sad-and-sore.html' title='Sad and sore.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113732963962638111</id><published>2006-01-15T13:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-15T13:54:03.680+01:00</updated><title type='text'>15 pounds.</title><content type='html'>I'm going to be rich. I've come up with the new fad diet. I'm going to call it the  &lt;i&gt;Lose 15 pounds in 5 days by running a high fever, throwing up every 10 minutes, have an inflamed appendix that gets cut out in 5 minutes diet.&lt;/i&gt;  New Years resolution to lose 10 pounds, done.  I can't wait until the swelling in my stomach goes down, I should look like the next winner of survivor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much every body part that you can live without has been removed from my body.  My poor stomach looks like a map.  After this last surgery I think I've decided to kiss the bikini wearing days goodbye.  I worry this summer that I might end up in a one piece with ruffles.  God help me.  &lt;a href="http://www.jcrew.com" target="new"&gt;J. Crew&lt;/a&gt; actually has some pretty cute one pieces that are quite promising.  I actually don't think my new scars will even be noticeable, but we'll see.  The surgeon actually did a very good job at sewing me back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a bad attitude today. I think all this laying around the house popping pain killers is starting to get to me.  I hate laying around. I want to get up and clean. I want to get up and make Trey and I dinner. I want to go out and do fun stuff. I cant and it's killing me.  Trey is the most wonderful husband ever and has been doing &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; for me.  While I thank him for that, I just want to do everything on my own like before. I want to move with out hurting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, time to go lay in bed.  Again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113732963962638111?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113732963962638111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113732963962638111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113732963962638111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113732963962638111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/15-pounds.html' title='15 pounds.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113706945097089163</id><published>2006-01-12T12:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T13:37:31.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good.</title><content type='html'>Trey and I have the best neighbors. Ever.  Our neighbors are some of the sweetest, kindest people I think I have ever known.  Monday morning they knew I was going to the ER because I wasn't feeling well.  When I didn't return home from the hospital Monday night by 11:45pm, they started to worry.  They called Treys cell phone.  He gave them the spill on what was going on with me.  He told them I was just out of surgery, I was doing fine. Told them I should be home Tuesday depending on how I felt.  They wished me well and they hung up.  Tuesday morning rolls around and I am released from the hospital.  When we arrived home it was when I realize just how wonderful my &lt;s&gt;neighbors&lt;/s&gt; friends are.  We pull up in the car, I look up at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Wow, they decorated our balcony with 239823243 Get Well balloons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; Check out the Get Well Banner, its bigger than our car!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; When did they do this? Its only 10:00AM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just that alone was probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me that I wasn't related to.  Slowly I get out of the car and make it up to the house.  We open the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Do I smell food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; I think so. Let me help you get in bed and I'll check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey reporting from the kitchen:&lt;/b&gt; Holy crap! There is a turkey dinner in here for 43, 6 varieties of soup, 4 Jello molds and so many &lt;i&gt;warm fresh baked cookies&lt;/i&gt; that I &lt;i&gt;might&lt;/i&gt; let you have &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to cry.  I realize my surgery wasn't a big deal, I wasn't even nervous. I was just sad mostly because I wanted to be at home.  I wanted my family to be there with me after I was out of surgery and recovering.  I wanted to be around the people that I love and care about.  It was then that I realized, even though my &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt; family is 4,000 miles away, these people are my family as well. And I love them.  I wish I had words to say just how much all the goodwill has meant, but I honestly can't even scratch the surface. I am just awestruck by the generosity.  The fact that no matter where you go in the world, not matter how far you are from your family, there will be another family there to take care of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113706945097089163?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113706945097089163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113706945097089163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113706945097089163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113706945097089163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/good.html' title='The Good.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113691332723042227</id><published>2006-01-10T17:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T18:15:28.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the flu.</title><content type='html'>So in my last post I was complaining about a sore throat, fever, my body was sore all over, etc.  Monday morning I woke up with severe abdominal pain and was throwing up every 10-15 minutes. I really do hate throwing up more than anything, and with stomach pain I was seriously contemplating suicide.  I called Trey and work and told him to come home and take me to the doctor.  What I thought was the flu, was really appendicitis.  I went to the ER, they ran some tests and told me I had to go into emergency surgery to remove my appendix because it was about to burst.  The surgeon came in and told me I would be in surgery in about 5 or 10 minutes.  &lt;br /&gt;You know, most people who are about to have a surgery that could mean life or death because a body part might explode and ooze into your body, probably wouldn't be thinking what I asked the doctor.  I said, &lt;i&gt;"well, um, since I was really sick this morning I wasn't able to shower.  Is there anyway I can go home and shower before I go under?"&lt;/i&gt;  The doctor just gave me a blank stare and said, &lt;i&gt;"You are joking, right? NO! You are about to DIE!"&lt;/i&gt;  Oh, well, you know, just thought I'd ask.  GEEZ! I hate being dirty!  And the worst part now is the fact that I cant shower for TWO more days because I cant get my incisions wet.  Hopefully one of Treys fantasies is to give a sponge bath. I could really use one right now. Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still in a lot of pain, thank the Lord for percoset. My stomach is so swollen I look as if I'm 6 months pregnant and I have to hold my belly up when I walk. I cant sit up on my own and Trey pretty much carried me to the computer just now.  It's pitiful really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this post has a lot of grammical errors or just doesn't make sense, please forgive me. I'm drugged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113691332723042227?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113691332723042227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113691332723042227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113691332723042227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113691332723042227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/not-flu.html' title='Not the flu.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113675128422887601</id><published>2006-01-08T20:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T21:17:37.796+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow.</title><content type='html'>Sorry for my lack of updates. There really hasn't been a whole lot going on with us.  The only thing to update with is the fact that I have been sick as crap the past few days with today being the first day I actually left the house.  I didn't want to, but Trey insisted that maybe if I showered and got out a bit I would feel a little better.  I'll admit, I did.  I have a horrible sore throat, a low fever around 99-101, a cough, my body aches all over and bascially I want to die.  Over Christmas leave my niece was sick with the same thing, so I know who I got this from.  Which only confirms Trey and I's assumption that children are only good for two things: carrying on your legacy and carrying disease.  Which brings me back to new years resolution number 11, NOT GET PREGNANT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of new years resolutions, the "buy a house" resolution should be taken care of in February or March, hopefully.  Trey will be gone for about 45 days give or take to the field and to a school.  I on the other hand am going home to see my sister have a baby and to buy a house.  Trey will be getting out of the Army in  April. The fact that they're sending him to a school since he is getting out so soon is stupid really.  They're doing &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; they can to get him to reenlist.  They bug him about it everyday, and now its gotten to the point where they're just starting to get plain mean about it.  He turned in his terminal leave form to get out in March, but they said no, we wont let you take more than 30 days of terminal leave. But, hey, since you'll be here, why not go to a school and then reenlist!  He can't do anything about them not accepting terminal leave, but he can not reenlist and he isn't going too.  They asked him what it would take.  Trey's reply, "$500,000.00 and a promotion to Sgt. Major."  They told him they couldn't do that and Trey said, well then, I cant reenlist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 18th is now when he should be getting out of the Army. April, please get here fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113675128422887601?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113675128422887601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113675128422887601&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113675128422887601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113675128422887601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/slow.html' title='Slow.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113639245143239624</id><published>2006-01-04T16:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T17:34:11.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>I realize I'm a little behind with the Happy New Year thing, but we just returned home today from the states.  This has been the first chance I've had to update really.  Being home was fun, as always, and I didn't want to come back to Germany.  I'm glad to be home and back in my own house with my own stuff though. I'm also happy to have a little privacy and my own quiet time again. Laura Grace was so excited to see us walk in the door that she started meowing so hard she is now hoarse.  I doubt she'll be able to make a real meow again for a few weeks. Ha.  Poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually don't make resolutions, I've always said I was just setting the year up for failure.  But, for some reason, this year I just want to darn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2006 I resolve to -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy a house.&lt;br /&gt;Buy another car.&lt;br /&gt;Lose the 10 pounds I gained over Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;Not stay up late and then sleep until 2pm the next day.&lt;br /&gt;Do my hair and make up everyday. &lt;i&gt;(Bum clothes are still permitted.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find a hospital or doctors office to work at that I love.&lt;br /&gt;Go back to school.&lt;br /&gt;Invest more money.&lt;br /&gt;When Trey wants to hug and kiss me, I wont push him away because I'm busy.&lt;br /&gt;Be more thankful that I have a husband who wants to hug and kiss me.&lt;br /&gt;NOT get pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list could go on, but those are the most important as of right now.  I hope all of you have a happy, fun, safe, and exciting new year full of good times and lots of love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113639245143239624?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113639245143239624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113639245143239624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113639245143239624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113639245143239624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113554821142183294</id><published>2005-12-25T22:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T23:03:31.436+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>Trey and I made it home safe and sound.  The plane ride was terribly long, like always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyones Christmas is wonderful.  Mine has been awesome so far.  For one I'm just glad to be home.  I missed everything about this place. I missed the way the pine trees smell, I miss how everyone knows my name.  I missed how life here is just so simple and the tought of war is one of the last things on peoples minds.  I like how we can forget the army even exists and pretend we have "normal" lives where my husband doesnt leave me for a year.  It is wonderful. I hope I never forget this feeling.  I hope I never take home forgranted ever again.  I also hope that in March, this will be our home again.  For good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant make a Christmas post without posting my presents, even though thats not what the holiday is about.  If it were up to me, there wouldnt be any present giving at all if youre over the age of 10. But you know, I dont control everything. Ha.  My biggest gift was a new car.  Here are two pictures from today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/4runner2.jpg" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/th_4runner2.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/4runner1.jpg" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/th_4runner1.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it and it is the most awesome car ever.   I also got a ton of clothes, a new coat, a new watch and some other small things I dont remember off the top of my head.  Regardless of everything I got, I'm mostly just happy to be home and to have a wonderful husband who loves me!  I know that sounds so cheesy but its true.  Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year. I'll try to post more while we're home but dont expect much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113554821142183294?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113554821142183294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113554821142183294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113554821142183294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113554821142183294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113508957666180236</id><published>2005-12-20T15:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T15:44:35.890+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gearing up.</title><content type='html'>Trey and I got up at the crack of dawn, got ready and drove to the Army Hospital in Wurzburg this morning.  When it comes to me plus a doctor, Trey tends to turn into this over protective mother.  On the whole ride to the hospital he was holding my hand so tight I thought it would turn blue.  He kept reassuring me, "&lt;i&gt;we're&lt;/i&gt; going to be alright. &lt;i&gt;we're&lt;/i&gt; going to make it out of here fine. Everything will be just fine!" I asked him who was getting surgery, me or him?  He had this distressed look on his face the whole time, while I sat there signing to music and eating McDonald's for breakfast.  We arrive at the hospital safe and sound, Trey is more panicked.  I told him to Watch Dr. Phil on the waiting room TV. Dr. Phil knows everything.  They call me into the back. I see my surgeon, he does an exam, then tells me to get dressed and have a seat.  He comes back into the room to tell me I'm not getting any surgery today.  &lt;i&gt;Huh? Why not?&lt;/i&gt;  Because he thinks that if they just drain the cysts in my breasts they're only going to come back. And if I remove them right now, then well, I'll just look deformed.  He said my cysts are pretty bad, and since I've been in a lot of pain with them for awhile, the best option will be to just remove my breasts all together.  &lt;i&gt;Excuse me?&lt;/i&gt;  He should have made himself more clear with that, no woman wants to loose her boobies!  I kind of panicked.  My doctor told me he wanted to just remove all the tissue inside my breast and put in implants. (&lt;i&gt;ok, now that sounds better.&lt;/i&gt;)  He said the only drawback of the surgery would be that I would never be able to breastfeed my babies.  He asked when I wanted to schedule the surgery, I told him I would think about it and call them back.  I wanted to discuss this with Trey and tell him about it before I agree to cut my chest off.  While they are &lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt; boobs, they are kind of important to him too.  The fact that I wont be able to breastfeed kind of saddens me, I never really gave breastfeeding much thought since I don't have any kids.  I know in the past I've said it was weird, and I would never want to do it, but actually knowing that I &lt;i&gt;wont be able to&lt;/i&gt; kind of makes me sad.  On the other hand, I realized that I only know of one actual person who has breastfed, and formulas now days are terrific.  But something about not being able to do what nature intended, even if I did have kids and decided not to breastfeed, makes me a little sad.  I think though, that I'll have the surgery when Trey is 1. Out of the army or 2. In Iraq.  The reason for that is the fact that I'll be in the states and can see a &lt;b&gt;real&lt;/b&gt; plastic surgeon, not an army doctor that has no idea what he's doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I are leaving tomorrow to go home for Christmas.  We should be packing, we haven't yet.  Trey brought the suitcases down from upstairs, put them on the bedroom floor. We sat on the bed, then fell asleep.  A two hour nap later, the clothes still have not made their way into the suitcase.  Its weird, I don't even feel excited about going home this time.  Maybe because I've made this journey so many times in the past and I know how its going to be like when I get there, but I'm not the least bit excited.  Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I &lt;i&gt;want more than anything to be with them&lt;/i&gt;, but I just don't have that giddy &lt;i&gt;OH MY GAWD!&lt;/i&gt; feeling I usually get.  It seems unreal.  I feel like tomorrow I'll wake up, watch Oprah and eat junk food like every other day.  I'll probably actually get excited when I sit down on the plane and realize, wow, I'll be &lt;b&gt;HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113508957666180236?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113508957666180236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113508957666180236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113508957666180236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113508957666180236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/gearing-up.html' title='Gearing up.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113486047341164078</id><published>2005-12-17T23:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T00:04:50.233+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness.</title><content type='html'>We had our annual Midnight Madness sale here in Germany at the PX.  Trey I do believe, is a better shopper than women.  We waited in line for an hour just to get inside the PX.  Once the doors opened he used our cart as a battering ram, running over small women and children to make his way to the toy section.  For the past 3 years Trey has begged me for &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B0007D5BLI/qid=1134858611/sr=8-5/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i4_xgl21/102-6990737-0348126?v=glance&amp;s=toys&amp;n=507846" target="new"&gt;this tank.&lt;/a&gt; I would never let him have it because of the price and the fact that the thing is HUGE.  I finally gave into his begging, and since it was marked down from $195.00 to $30.00, I figured I'd make a little boy happy and let him relive his childhood for awhile.  We were the first to the toy section and he is now the proud new owner of that massive thing.  He's been grinning ear to ear since the purchase.  I didn't buy anything for myself (can you believe that!?) There really wasn't anything that I needed or really wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I celebrated our own small Christmas tonight.  We leave to go home to the states for Christmas on Wednesday and we figured tonight would be a good night to open our gifts since we'll be busy all next week preparing to leave.  Trey gave me one of everything from Victorias Secret (I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. You people have no idea how much I love new bras and underwear.) He also gave me new dishes, some other stuff I needed in the kitchen, clothes and a few other little things.  On Treys list was the tank of course, pajamas, 3 books, Playstation 2 games and DVD's.  Laura Grace got one of our &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/39/74544995_76531f5e47.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;left over boxes&lt;/a&gt; that she now uses as an &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/9/74545116_764e5cd107.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;attack post&lt;/a&gt;.  She couldn't be happier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113486047341164078?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113486047341164078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113486047341164078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113486047341164078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113486047341164078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/madness.html' title='Madness.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113450763090574894</id><published>2005-12-13T21:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T22:02:00.920+01:00</updated><title type='text'>New layout is up.</title><content type='html'>I hate winter layouts, they're so depressing.  The other layout was a temporary fix, and something was wrong with it. It kept kicking me off the site. Agh. So much for trying to get out of things to easy way. Ha. Did things the hard way again and things seem to be working out ok now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113450763090574894?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113450763090574894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113450763090574894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113450763090574894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113450763090574894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/new-layout-is-up.html' title='New layout is up.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113447696469964128</id><published>2005-12-13T12:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T21:52:01.660+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Power selling.</title><content type='html'>Awww, eBay, you shouldn't have.  I checked my mail yesterday and got this huge package from eBay.  I opened it up and what did I receive?  My Christmas present from those guys;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c312/ebaysimpson/PSeller.jpg" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photobucket.com/albums/c312/ebaysimpson/th_PSeller.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with this spiffy award, they also sent me a check refunding me for my eBay seller fees for the past 6 months. &lt;i&gt;*gasp* six months!&lt;/i&gt; Who would have known &lt;s&gt;feepay&lt;/s&gt; eBay would ever give people their money back!  The refund is pretty big considering I've only been a powerseller for three of those six months.  As a powerseller on eBay the fees go &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; down. It's like 1 cent to list items and final value fees are next to nothing. I think that is kind of unfair; the single Mom listing on eBay to make money off old baby clothes to buy new ones, needs the lower fees.  Not a powerseller making $2,000 a month or more. The whole powerseller thing is kind of screwed up if you ever become a part of it.  Signing into eBay as a powerseller is like some hidden online VIP block party the underdogs of eBay never know about or see.  As a powerseller you can get away with &lt;i&gt;anything&lt;/i&gt;, and its pretty sad because some of the other powersellers do.  Don't ever file a complaint on eBay against a powerseller; eBay will not side with you. I think the whole ethics system eBay has is pretty screwed up, but I wont complain much since I love the money they enable me to make.  I heard a rumor &lt;a href="http:www.google.com" target="new"&gt;Google&lt;/a&gt; was going to make an online auction site to launch early 2006. I hope so, someone needs to kick eBays unethical butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I ran 10 miles.  Don't ask me why, but I did.  I got into this big runners high and just kept going.  Today though, I regret it. I hurt all over.  And with that comment I would like to take this moment to apologize to my husband who is in the infantry. He has endured 20 mile road marches with a 60 pound or more ruck sack.  I'm sorry Trey, that after all that, I still made you do the laundry and give &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; back rubs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a new layout for the site.  Maybe I'll get unlazy and put it up soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113447696469964128?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113447696469964128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113447696469964128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113447696469964128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113447696469964128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/power-selling.html' title='Power selling.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113413495397342818</id><published>2005-12-09T13:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T14:40:52.366+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Superstar.</title><content type='html'>My family has gone nuts.  Last night my phone rings.  I pick up the phone to find that its my 4 year old niece, Kaylynd calling.  This is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kaylynd:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;*cue dramatic crying*&lt;/i&gt; Aunt Jenna, I'm in a lot of trouble and I didn't know what to do so I called you! &lt;i&gt;*cries harder*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(I'm thinking to myself, shouldn't I be helping her out of trouble when she's somewhere around 20 not 4?)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Well what happened? What did you do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kaylynd:&lt;/b&gt; I colored my hair red with a magic marker and my Mom is really mad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Why did you do that? Your hair was pretty blonde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kaylynd:&lt;/b&gt; Because, I'm going to be a rock star after Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;(trying as hard as I can now not to laugh)&lt;/i&gt; Why did you color your hair now if are you waiting until after Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kaylynd:&lt;/b&gt; so Santa will know to bring my rock star gear, DUH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After talking with her for about five minutes and thinking to myself that she should be 24 and not 4, I realized that my sister seemed to be nowhere near the phone so I asked who dialed the phone for her and how she called me.  She replies, &lt;i&gt;"Aunt Jenna, I know how to read your name and I know how to use speed dial, geez!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well, that explains it.  My mistake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113413495397342818?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113413495397342818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113413495397342818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113413495397342818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113413495397342818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/superstar.html' title='Superstar.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113364568807909349</id><published>2005-12-03T22:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-03T22:34:48.146+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Grab the purse!</title><content type='html'>I managed to sprang my ankle tonight.  Trey and I were going out to dinner and as we were going down the steps into the garage, he took a step back which I wasn't anticipating and I tripped over him.  My ankle did something weird, my purse went flying and my head somehow ended up on my shoe.  I was sobbing.  Not because my ankle hurt like a son of a gun, but because my brand new Prada purse was wedged under the door to the garage that was closing and was being scraped along the concrete.  As soon as I feel, Trey instinctively grabbed me up and threw me over his shoulder as macho man saves the day.  I kept crying and screaming as I watched my new Prada purse scratch to its sure death, &lt;i&gt;"PUT ME DOWN! GRAB THE PURSE! MY PURSE! MY PRADA PURSE!"&lt;/i&gt;  He wouldn't put me down as he was trying to save my life, so I with a lopsided ankle start crying harder and kicking him to put me down.  I could tell he couldn't figure it out, he was doing the right thing - or so he thought.  Swollen ankle or not, I had to save the purse.  That's when I realized just how pathetic I am.  My Prada purse is more important than my own ankle, something that I kind of, you know, need everyday.  We all now know where my priorities lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I may have said this before, and I will say it again: &lt;i&gt;military health care is horrible.&lt;/i&gt; Most people say we shouldn't complain, we get free health care. But the old saying is true, you get what you pay for. Nothing.  I went back to the doctor on Friday because my &lt;a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000912.htm" target="new"&gt;fibrocystic boobies&lt;/a&gt; have gotten worse.  They prescribe me a medication to take until I can get another appointment.  My doctor tells me that maybe the medication will make them go away and I wont need the second appointment or need to have the cysts removed or drained.  Great, I think to myself. I come home, take my medicine like a good girl.  Later I read the pamphlet they give you with your medicine explaining side effects, dosage etc.  The first line on the paper reads, &lt;i&gt;this medication is prescribed for high blood pressure&lt;/i&gt;. Huh? I don't have high blood pressure, I have painful boobies with cysts! My brother in law who is a doctor is baffled and has no idea why I'm on it.  Not only is it for blood pressure but in big bold letters is says, &lt;b&gt;Do not take this medication if you are allergic to Sulfa medications.&lt;/b&gt; Well, guess who has been allergic to that since she was 12? That's right, ME!  My reaction is swollen and weak joints - thus explaining my easy ankle sprang and why my fingers feel like I have arthritis today.  Retards.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113364568807909349?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113364568807909349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113364568807909349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113364568807909349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113364568807909349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/12/grab-purse.html' title='Grab the purse!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113317382728658639</id><published>2005-11-28T11:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T11:35:49.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It's on.</title><content type='html'>My neighbor below me put up some Christmas decorations on her balcony.  I had mine up first, everyone was jealous.  She put some garland on the BOTTOM of my balcony.  Excuse me?  That's a little close to MY stuff and I think its interfering.  I feel a little Christmas sabotage coming on.  It looks tacky and I don't want people to think that the tackiness belongs to me.  Everyone around here is getting tired of them anyway, so it'll be fun.  They borrow things and like to pretend they have no idea what you're talking about when you ask for it back.  The first thing they stole: TV cable. We asked for that twice now and this is how the first converstaion about it went: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; Hey, man, can I get my TV cable back? My wife wants to put it back in our bedroom so she can watch Oprah in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dan:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, yeah sure, we're done with it.... oh, wait... no.. sorry. *changes subject*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Can I get our AFN cable back? I like to watch TV in the mornings in my room.  I told you that you could &lt;em&gt;only borrow &lt;/em&gt;it until you bought one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Them:&lt;/b&gt; What cable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has also stolen two glass dishes, 1 lid to a pot and a roll of yarn.  They're &lt;i&gt;nice&lt;/i&gt; and all, but STOP STEALING MY STUFF and get your CRAP OFF THE BOTTOM OF MY BALCONY!  I'm going to pull an Inspector Gadget and take pictures so you can see what I'm talking about.  Everyone around here (Ok, only Me, Trey, Cevan and Sallee) are also irritated that they're alcoholics and expect us to get drunk with them the second we enter their house.  Salle is pregnant with twins, pressuring  her to do SHOTS and drink beer is NOT okay!  &lt;strong&gt;Grow up.&lt;/strong&gt;  I'm not the only one they've stole from.  Sallee has a list too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weekend was full of fast food and computer games.  Friday Trey and I went to the after Thanksgiving sales.  There really wasn't anything on sale &lt;s&gt;we&lt;/s&gt; I wanted except a computer game.  Trey bought me &lt;a href="http://www.microsoft.com/games/zootycoon/zoo2/" target="new"&gt;Zoo Tycoon 2&lt;/a&gt; and I haven't done a single thing since the game entered this house but play it.  I think Trey is starting to miss me. He tries to sit on the chair with me while I play and get my attention by rubbing my back or playing with my hair.  What he doesnt realize is that is the best of both worlds; computer fun and great comfort! Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the online world, today is the biggest online shopping day of the year.  I should be broke by the end of the day.  And Victorias Secret, please stop sending me your catalogs with amazing deals pasted all over the front. You know I CANT RESIST and I WILL ORDER!  $10.00 off a bra PLUS a FREE panty! &lt;em&gt;*gasp*&lt;/em&gt; FREE bedroom slippers with a purchase of pajamas! &lt;em&gt;*Whips out debit card*&lt;/em&gt;  Yes, its going to be a fun day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113317382728658639?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113317382728658639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113317382728658639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113317382728658639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113317382728658639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/its-on.html' title='It&apos;s on.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113286146002863865</id><published>2005-11-24T20:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T20:45:28.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  Here are some pictures from our Thanksgiving and some other new ones from the day...&lt;center&gt;&lt;!-- Start of Flickr Badge --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_source_txt {padding:0; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif; color:#666666;}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_icon {display:block !important; margin:0 !important; border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0) !important;}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_icon_td {padding:0 5px 0 0 !important;}&lt;br /&gt;.flickr_badge_image {text-align:center !important;}&lt;br /&gt;.flickr_badge_image img {border: 1px solid black !important;}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_www {display:block; padding:0 10px 0 10px !important; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif !important; color:#3993ff !important;}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:hover,&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:link,&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:active,&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:visited {text-decoration:none !important; background:inherit !important;color:#3993ff;}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_wrapper {background-color:#ffffff;border: solid 1px #000000}&lt;br /&gt;#flickr_badge_source {padding:0 !important; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif !important; color:#666666 !important;}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table id="flickr_badge_uber_wrapper" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="10" border="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="10" border="0" id="flickr_badge_wrapper"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.flickr.com/badge_code_v2.gne?count=3&amp;display=random&amp;size=s&amp;layout=h&amp;source=user_set&amp;user=51862275%40N00&amp;set=1435565&amp;context=in%2Fset-1435565%2F"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- End of Flickr Badge --&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Click on any of the pictures to start viewing them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113286146002863865?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113286146002863865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113286146002863865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113286146002863865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113286146002863865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113269179429588524</id><published>2005-11-22T21:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T21:47:59.816+01:00</updated><title type='text'>OUCH!</title><content type='html'>Trey and I have decided to stop cursing.  Since he joined the Army it seems we do a lot of that.  If you were to be around us, you'd think we were sailors.  We never had horrible language before he joined the military, but the Army tends to do that to you.  Since we've been talking about having kids within the next few years and we have such a bad habit, we figured it might take us awhile to stop.  We decided if this cursing thing was going to really end, there had to be some sort of punishment.  So if I swear or Trey swears, we get to pinch the one who said the forsaken word.  We've been doing this for a week now.  Trey who had the BIGGEST problem with it hasn't said a single bad word since.  Me on the other hand, I've been pinched so many times I look like an abused step child.  &lt;i&gt;CRAP!&lt;/i&gt; I just knew I'd be better at this than him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey is off work until Monday for Thanksgiving.  It's going to be a fun long weekend.  &lt;b&gt;Trey&lt;/b&gt; even suggested we go shopping at the after thanksgiving sales.  I have a feeling the reason for that is a certain toy he's been eyeing for about two years.  He's worse than a 4 year old.  We go into the toy section, he gets bright eyed, begs, I tell him no and he pouts on the whole car ride home. Maybe if he is extra good I'll think about it. Ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113269179429588524?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113269179429588524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113269179429588524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113269179429588524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113269179429588524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/ouch.html' title='OUCH!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113258176162313922</id><published>2005-11-21T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T15:06:14.856+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness.</title><content type='html'>Trey came home from the field Friday. I was so happy, so much had happened while he was gone it was so nice to have him back again!  Our weekend was pretty laid back, we didn't really do much of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we went grocery shopping to buy food for Thanksgiving.  Our neighbor Sallee came with us.  Since our other neighbor Adrean is more excited about thanksgiving than I've ever seen anyone, she assigned us all a crap load of food to bring.  One of my assignments: &lt;b&gt;Homemade&lt;/b&gt; Apple pie. Wow, she really has gone nuts for Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;*adds &lt;b&gt;premade frozen&lt;/b&gt; apple pie to grocery list*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Trey and I rented some movies.  One of the movies we rented was House of Wax.  In my opinion, it wasn't scary.  A little gory maybe, but not scary.  The ending was really dumb.  There is no way a house made out of wax will blow up into such a huge ball of fire.  Wouldn't the wax smother the fire out anyway?  Psssh, movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Trey calls me excited.  He was &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;finally&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; awarded his long over due medals for Iraq.  The way they're worded makes it sound like he liberated the whole country on his own.  I'm so proud of him and he really deserved it.  He also got another award for being such a good leader in the field this past week.  He was the only person who received anything for the field, so I'm sure no one can tell him anything around work anymore. He probably thinks &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; should be the First sergeant now. Ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113258176162313922?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113258176162313922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113258176162313922&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113258176162313922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113258176162313922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/randomness.html' title='Randomness.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113230774294421923</id><published>2005-11-18T10:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T10:55:42.956+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God, it's FRIDAY.</title><content type='html'>This has been a strange week.  So much has happened.  I wont go into detail about &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt;, but its been hard and nice all at the same time.  Trey has been in the field for most of the week, so I've missed him.  He should be home today sometime, around 3 I think.  We'll see. Regardless of when he gets here, I'm just glad he'll be here.  This week has just been hard.  It's like deployments; whatever can happen will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura Grace came home from the vet yesterday morning.  She had some trouble getting spayed.  She had to stay over night.  We thought she was out of heat, but she wasn't all the way.  It made spaying her harder and more painful on her.  Poor thing.  She's fine now though, thank God.  Even Trey who acts like he just cant stand her was worried.  She was the first thing he asked about when he called me yesterday.  He said, &lt;em&gt;"OH MY GOSH! HOW IS LAURA GRACE! IS SHE HOME!?!"&lt;/em&gt;  Yeah, he hates her alright. &lt;em&gt;*laughs*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just really glad today is Friday.  My neighbor Sallee and I have both been roughing it out all week.  We both equally agree this week has sucked more than any in the past.  Shew, thank God its Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113230774294421923?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113230774294421923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113230774294421923&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113230774294421923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113230774294421923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/thank-god-its-friday.html' title='Thank God, it&apos;s FRIDAY.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113212725047935955</id><published>2005-11-16T08:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T08:51:10.460+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy cat lady.</title><content type='html'>It's been decided.  I am not emotionally stable enough to ever have kids.  I dropped Laura Grace off at the vet this morning to be spayed.  I was filling out paper work, and they picked up her carrier and started walking off with her.  I started freaking out, &lt;i&gt;"NO! NOT YET! DON'T TAKE HER! I HAVE TO TELL HER I LOVE HER!"&lt;/i&gt;  So they brought her back to me and I burst into tears.  Not a sniffle, not one or two tears rolling down my cheek.  I mean the full blown, ugly face snotty nose cry.  I was holding her, telling her I was sorry and I loved her. I promised I would be back to get her really soon.  When she saw me crying she kept trying to climb up me to stay close and snuggle into my neck.  She is so sweet.  As they were carrying her away she kept looking at me and meowing.  It was almost as horrible as watching Trey deploy to Iraq!  I kept thinking, this could be the last time I ever see my precious kitty again!  I'm such a mess.  I can never have kids.  If I'm like this over my &lt;i&gt;cat&lt;/i&gt;, what in the world will I do when I have a kid with a bruised knee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick her up at the vet tomorrow morning.  I'm going to be a mess until then.  They promised me they would call me as soon as she was out of surgery to let me know how she was doing. I feel like such an idiot.  Please tell me I'm not the only pet owner to bust into tears for dropping their pet off for a regular surgery!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113212725047935955?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113212725047935955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113212725047935955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113212725047935955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113212725047935955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/crazy-cat-lady.html' title='Crazy cat lady.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113197828871748045</id><published>2005-11-14T15:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T15:35:30.340+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Kitty.</title><content type='html'>This is the last time Laura Grace will be seen with a uterus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/24/63214555_2b53c0a1b7.jpg?v=1131977752"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/24/63214555_2b53c0a1b7_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My poor kitty meow is getting spayed.  It's about time, I've had her on a waiting list since February.  She's also getting two shots.  Poor thing.  For the first time in awhile I'm excited about military benefits, getting her spayed and two shots is going to only cost $60.00.  And another awesome part - its a &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt; veterinarian.  Not some joe who joined the army because he didn't have anything else to do with his life.  But a real life, certified veterinarian.  Honestly, I don't think I would have taken her to get spayed here if it wasn't for that fact.  The military doctors here don't know what to do for humans when you &lt;b&gt;tell&lt;/b&gt; them what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbor Sallee is getting her boxer, Shelby spayed on the same day.  We're going to ride together.  This should make for an interesting car ride.  One dog, one cat, a one year old and Sallee pregnant with twins all in one small space.  It's going to be great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bad for Laura Grace.  She isn't going to know what's going on. She is terrified of car rides and &lt;i&gt;hates&lt;/i&gt; being stuffed into her carrier.  Maybe I should just take her in a plastic bag.  She loves plastic bags. haha.&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/25/63214527_aadf9b7003.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/25/63214527_aadf9b7003_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Hi, I'm here to drop off my cat. She's here in this plastic bag...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vet:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;*Vet calls animal abuse hot line*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113197828871748045?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113197828871748045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113197828871748045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113197828871748045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113197828871748045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/poor-kitty.html' title='Poor Kitty.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113155439220735482</id><published>2005-11-09T17:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T17:55:16.253+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad news.</title><content type='html'>It's official.  He's going to Iraq next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out about 10 minutes ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep breaking down. I love him so much and I am so, so scared. Hug the one you love every chance you get. I don't want to watch him walk away again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words are hard right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The main elements of the force for 2006-2008 will be as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Division headquarters, 25th Infantry Division, Schofield Barracks, Hawaii; &lt;br /&gt;13th Corps Support Command, Fort Hood, Texas; &lt;br /&gt;1st Brigade, 34th Infantry Division, Minnesota National Guard &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2nd Brigade, 1st Infantry Division, Schweinfurt, Germany;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division, Fort Lewis, Washington; &lt;br /&gt;3rd Brigade, 82nd Airborne Division, Fort Bragg, North Carolina &lt;br /&gt;3rd Brigade, 25th Infantry Division, Schofield Barracks, Hawaii; &lt;br /&gt;2nd Brigade, 10th Mountain Division, Fort Drum, New York. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113155439220735482?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113155439220735482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113155439220735482&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113155439220735482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113155439220735482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/bad-news.html' title='Bad news.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113147730333497372</id><published>2005-11-08T19:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T20:22:20.153+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1-800-my-tree-wont-light.</title><content type='html'>I put up our Christmas decorations today.  Early, I know, but I'm the grown up now and it can be Christmas whenever I want it to be!!  I love Christmas, and I still get really excited for the holiday just like when I was a little kid.  Yesterday I went shopping, saw tons of decorations which made me feel all Christmas warm and fuzzy inside.  I knew then I had to just go ahead and do it.  Plus, Trey gave me the go ahead.  He's in the field this week and he told me he wanted it up when he got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered a perlit Christmas tree from &lt;a href="http://www.walmart.com" target="new"&gt;Wal-Mart&lt;/a&gt; a few months back.  I lugged it up from the basement and put it together.  All was going well until I plugged it in.  Then this is what happened;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/32/61321213_837ec2ed5e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's right, the top portion of the tree wont light.  I replaced the fuses as the instructions said, I even checked all the bulbs.  Nothing. I looked over the instructions some more, hoping for some source of hope when I saw a 1-800-your-tree-wont-light hotline. I called it.  A grump lady answers the phone with a pissy tone,&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Grumpy Tree Lady:&lt;/b&gt; Tree hotline, how can I help you?&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Um, yes, the top portion of my tree wont light. I replaced the fuses and checked the bulbs and still nothing.&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Grumpy Tree Lady:&lt;/b&gt; I guess you've done everything then. &lt;i&gt;*Grumpy tree lady hangs up on me*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about Holiday spirit!  After I was hung up on, the Tree and I got into a huge fight.  I started shaking the tree and screaming, &lt;i&gt;"just light! GOSH, HOW HARD IS IT?! All I wanted was a pretty little tree and something to do while my husband was gone this week!"&lt;/i&gt; After all that tree shaking and screaming, nothing.  Then I threw the tree across my family room.  Still not lighting.  To make matters worse, three branches on the bottom of the tree then decided to go out. (I blame myself for that one, since I, you know, threw it and all.) So I called Wal-mart. I figured I would just return the tree for a new one that hopefully worked.  They told me they would be more than happy to take the broken tree, and mail me out a brand new tree in 10 to 12 weeks.  &lt;i&gt;Excuse me? 10 to 12 weeks? Wont Christmas be over by then?&lt;/i&gt; I told them I needed a &lt;b&gt;Christmas&lt;/b&gt; Tree not a Valentines Tree.  They offered me no hope. So it looks like I'm stuck with a half lit tree this year. I'm going to buy some lights for the top portion.  I turned the bottom part that no longer lights to the back. I'll return this tree after Christmas for a refund.  I want a tree that isn't prelit.  One where if the lights don't work, I can just throw them away!  Did I mention I love this holiday? I'm now questioning myself as to why.  I haven't decorated my balcony yet, I will at least wait to do that AFTER Thanksgiving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113147730333497372?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113147730333497372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113147730333497372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113147730333497372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113147730333497372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/1-800-my-tree-wont-light.html' title='1-800-my-tree-wont-light.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113111256259018811</id><published>2005-11-04T14:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T15:04:47.343+01:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF.</title><content type='html'>I've been neglecting the site, I know.  Its not like any of you comment anymore anyway! I know you come here, I check the site stats. So much for you trying to hide. &lt;img src="http://www.sinfulishus.com/emoticons/tongue.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much has been going on around here lately.  Trey has been working longer hours lately. I'm not so sure I like this whole bravo section leader and promotion deal.  I guess neither of us have a choice about it.  I just want to be selfish and have him home at the first possible hour. I miss him when he's away. Gay, I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a horrible dream. I had a dream that Trey and his unit went back to Iraq. I supposed I had this dream due to the looming possible Iraq deployment in 2006.  It's getting hard now, I just wish they'd tell us something either way.  I wish I knew what to plan for. Trey will either get out of the army next year all together or be stop lossed for the deployment. I just wish I knew what was going to happen. We need to start making plans for our future - in the army or out.  We want to buy a house, a new car and he is going to start school.  If he does deploy, I guess I'll be buying the house, car and starting a new job all on my own.  The worst part of the dream was what was the worst part of the past deployment; saying goodbye.  No matter how many times you do it, saying goodbye never gets easier. In my dream I was crying and trying to just catch that last glimpse of him before he went away for a year like last time. It brought up so many old emotions.  Emotions I hate and hope to never experience again.  Honestly, I feel like I'm okay with the actual deployment in itself, the part that bothers me is knowing I'll have to watch him go. Kissing him goodbye and wondering if that's the last kiss I'll ever give him, or the last time I'll ever see him again.  I hate that.  For me telling him bye that day in February was probably harder than the whole deployment. I just pray I don't have to do it again. &lt;img src="http://www.sinfulishus.com/emoticons/sad.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I don't really have plans for the weekend. The only thing we need to do is go grocery shopping. It's getting pretty bad around here. We're almost down to eating stale bread. I've been in this mood where I really didn't want to cook or buy groceries. I've seemed to pull myself out of the mood and now I'm ready to get back to cooking again. Other than grocery shopping, I guess we'll do what we do every weekend. Snuggle on the couch and watch TV, take a walk and play some playstation together! &lt;img src="http://www.sinfulishus.com/emoticons/biggrin.gif"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113111256259018811?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113111256259018811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113111256259018811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113111256259018811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113111256259018811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/11/tgif.html' title='TGIF.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113079422073313336</id><published>2005-10-31T22:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T10:40:29.396+01:00</updated><title type='text'>We're like peas and... brussle sprouts?</title><content type='html'>Whenever its the day before Trey goes back to work after his weekend, he always tends to get a little moody.  Last night he kept saying or doing little things that kept irritating the crap out of me.  Finally I snapped and started yelling at him.  After a few minutes of arguing I went into the living room to watch TV.  He came in there right after I did with a sad look on his face.  He snuggled against me on the couch and said, &lt;em&gt;"Baby, please don't be mean.  Be my baby sweet peas again!"  &lt;/em&gt;After I responded with the following comment, it was when I finally realized just how strange we both really are.  I said, &lt;em&gt;"Fine, I'll be baby sweet peas! But just so you know, you're brussle sprouts because I don't like you!"  &lt;/em&gt;The fact that a comment like that actually offended him, is what makes the whole thing even more weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been calling him brussle sprouts since last night.  He's practically in tears begging to be some sort of baked good instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113079422073313336?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113079422073313336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113079422073313336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113079422073313336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113079422073313336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/were-like-peas-and-brussle-sprouts.html' title='We&apos;re like peas and... brussle sprouts?'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113077535579370805</id><published>2005-10-31T16:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T17:16:44.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween.</title><content type='html'>Happy Halloween!  I'm not much of a Halloween fan. Don't get me wrong, I loved it when I was little, but now I just don't care.  Trey and I aren't doing anything for Halloween since we don't have kids...Thank God.  Whenever we do have kids though, you can bet we'll be those giddy parents dragging their kids around begging for candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our weekend was like most other weekends - boring.  We sat at home and watched the whole first season of the King of Queens. We ordered take out and snuggled. It was nice.  Trey didn't have to work today since he worked 24 hours on Friday.  We ran some errands. I needed to ship out eBay stuff and deposit money into my account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear since I've turned 21 I've gotten alzheimers.  I'm so forgetful now days.  I'll go into the kitchen to do something and totally forget what it was I went in there for. I get side tracked and end up doing 10 other things and never get the one thing done that I needed to get done.  Today our purpose for leaving the house was to ship my eBay stuff - I forget every single package. I realized this when Trey pulled into the post office parking lot and I'm like, "ohhh yeah. hehehe."  He just turned the car around.  Oh - and I wont even bring up the fact that we traveled 3 hours to the airport a few weeks back to buy airline tickets with free "delta bucks", and who forgot to bring "delta bucks" to the airport? That's right; me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/29/58006972_d859fe2066.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/29/58006972_d859fe2066_m.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting that picture because it shows my new hair cut and color.  Trey was annoyed I kept trying to take pictures while he was playing his new playstation 2 game, if you couldn't tell by his expression.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113077535579370805?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113077535579370805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113077535579370805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113077535579370805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113077535579370805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113053910692496338</id><published>2005-10-29T00:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T00:47:00.010+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Peas.</title><content type='html'>Trey and I are both from the south so much of our lives revolves around food.  We spend a lot of time together (and money) at the grocery store.  Every time we go there Trey always manages to find some food product to either make a joke about or relate to our lives in some way.  This is what happened yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; Can we buy these?&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; Peas? You don't eat anything green, much less peas!&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; Yes, but these aren't just any kind of peas!&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; oh, is that so? Then what kind of peas are they?&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Trey:&lt;/b&gt; They're like you, they're &lt;i&gt;baby sweet peas!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;And with that, I have a new nick name.  Baby sweet peas.  He's called me that nearly 2373908243 times since yesterday.  And it's just as cute every time he says it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been two days and that "rash" from the previous post is still gone! &lt;i&gt;yesss!&lt;/i&gt; I know, that's so horrible to say.  My life has been much less stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Trey has staff duty so he's at work for 24 hours straight. I went to the gym with my neighbor Sallee, the other girls didn't go.  We made them feel guilty about it later as we all sat and ate brownies.  The night consisted of girls giggling, Survivor, The Apprentice and more baked goods.  Yum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113053910692496338?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113053910692496338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113053910692496338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113053910692496338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113053910692496338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/peas.html' title='Peas.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113028189880437977</id><published>2005-10-26T01:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T01:11:38.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Admit it.</title><content type='html'>I have in my possession pictures of Britney Spears baby, Sean Preston.  I know you're curious and want to see them.  Admit it.  Much to my disbelief, he is a rather cute baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 1am and Trey isn't home from France yet.  &lt;em&gt;*gasp*&lt;/em&gt;  And that joker must have his phone off because he isn't answering.  Darn it.  I don't really expect him to get home until much later in the day, it is the Army you know.  Oh well, I'm guess I'm going to go to bed.  This post was totally pointless.  The faster I get to sleep the faster Trey gets here because I kind of, you know, miss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113028189880437977?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113028189880437977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113028189880437977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113028189880437977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113028189880437977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/admit-it.html' title='Admit it.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113016687685830472</id><published>2005-10-24T16:49:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T17:14:36.866+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ha.</title><content type='html'>I'll never understand why someone would write comments as someone else, but whatever floats your boat. It's sad really that someone feels the need to be someone else, even online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was so depressed.  While I'm trying to be happy for Trey that his work &lt;i&gt;made&lt;/i&gt; him take a trip to France, at the same time I'm sad without him and totally depressed I'm left home alone. I've been to France before and done all that great stuff, but maybe what makes this whole trip suck even more is the fact that he didn't want to go in the first place. I feel sorry for him and myself.  What makes matters even worse - his cell phone doesn't work in France. And despite my 12312980 attempts to call him &lt;i&gt;hoping just maybe&lt;/i&gt; the phone will work, I still get the German operator telling me the call can't be made. &lt;i&gt;sigh&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm lonely and have nothing else to do, I figured I'd get to the task of working on the blanket I'm making for my &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/26/47436450_db87bf021e.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;niece to be&lt;/a&gt; in February.  One spool of yarn later and all I have is something that looks like a pepto bismol scarf.&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/31/55608097_ce2a98490d_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be much prettier when I'm done and add in the ribbon.  Every time I work on a project, I always end up changing it about 100 times along the way.  Originally this blanket was supposed to be pink and white, as you can tell its only pink. I decided I would just use white ribbon on an all pink blanket but now I'm thinking more along the lines of purple ribbon or light green ribbon to match the crib set.  Who knows what the final outcome will be. Only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ebay I've decided should be called feepay, and they're totally stupid.  I cancelled my old account to open my powerseller account.  The new account was set up and ready to go, I listed some items and wham, they close the account and reopen my old account.  &lt;i&gt;Huh?!&lt;/i&gt; So its back to selling at the old account, which is more expensive because its not my powerseller account, but hopefully the whole thing will get fixed here soon.  They're getting annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok - time to get ready for the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113016687685830472?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113016687685830472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113016687685830472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113016687685830472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113016687685830472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/ha.html' title='Ha.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-113007121841809465</id><published>2005-10-23T14:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T21:53:34.883+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired.</title><content type='html'>I feel so tired today.  I guess I have good reason.  Friday night Trey and I went out with a bunch of our friends to celebrate my birthday.  We didn't get home until 5am.  We're usually not the partying club going type, but we figured it would be fun to get out and do something different.  22 guys Trey works with showed up for the party.  I think we invited maybe 4, but a single soldier will never turn down the opportunity to have fun.  We had dinner, drinks and tons of other fun and didn't pay for a dime of it.  Thanks guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I woke up around 10am on Saturday. I was tired because I didn't get to sleep until around 6am or so. We wanted to get up early so we could spend some time together.  We also needed to do some grocery shopping and I wanted to do some other shopping.  He left this morning for a mandatory trip to Normandy. He didn't want to go, he wanted to stay home with me and I wanted that too, but its a good opportunity for him.  If he didn't go now, he'd never go.  Plus, the trip is for the guys to talk about their feelings about Iraq, and sometimes I think he needs that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Trey was leaving today we didn't get to bed until around 3am, then my neighbor Sallee woke me up this morning early.  She wanted to see if I would go with her to the PX. I told her I would.  So I've had 8 hours of sleep in 2 days and its really catching up with me.  My whole body feels tired and my face feels swollen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/30/55153220_de014f9f5f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I finished my Christmas wreath. I couldn't decide if the bow should go at the top or the bottom.  I took a building 14A poll in all the apartments and we all agreed the bottom would look the best.  Especially since if the bow was at the top, the part of the bow that hangs down could cover up my peep hole, and we wouldn't want that now would we.  I have white lights in the wreath, but you cant tell in the picture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday flowers are blooming nicely and I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/28/55153238_bde08e840b_m.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/33/55153342_9cf204a98a_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, enough rambling. I'm going to throw myself a pity party since I miss Trey and then go bother my neighbors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-113007121841809465?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/113007121841809465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=113007121841809465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113007121841809465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/113007121841809465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/tired.html' title='Tired.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112980692815094107</id><published>2005-10-20T13:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T13:36:22.776+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince Charming.</title><content type='html'>My birthday started out sucking with period cramps, missing Trey and a hole in my crocheting. I just felt like plain poo.  At 12:30 Trey came rushing in the door. He said he couldn't stay home long, he had to be back at work, but wanted to at least see me a few minutes since it was my birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took his boots off, went into the kitchen and started making some lunch. He asked me to put his boots outside since we don't wear our shoes in the house. I picked up the boots, opened the door and what did I see? A huge basket of flowers, two cards and the biggest thing of candy any women on her period could ask for!  He ran up behind me, grabbed me up and starting singing in that horrible singing voice happy birthday so loud I'm sure all the neighbors heard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/24/54274525_fa4450d7ab_m.jpg" ALIGN=left HSPACE=0 VSPACE=0"&gt;I'm very impressed with the flowers for three reasons; About a month ago I was looking through a magazine and I saw this beautiful bouquet of fall colored flowers. I commented on how I wish I had something like that to put on our table to add some color.  The flowers he gave me are almost identical to what I saw in the magazine. The second reason is because its part planted and part cut flowers. He knows I wanted something to last a long time and not just die off.  And the other reason is because I love flowers and I love to watch them bloom. The planted part of the bouquet still isn't bloomed, and he knew I'd love that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just left for work but said he should be home in about a hour or so.  He told me to be dressed when he got home later. Our afternoon plans are going to consist of shopping, eating out and movies snuggled on the couch.  I couldn't ask for anything better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112980692815094107?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112980692815094107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112980692815094107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112980692815094107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112980692815094107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/prince-charming.html' title='Prince Charming.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112979799723713679</id><published>2005-10-20T10:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T10:51:38.350+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me.</title><content type='html'>I have heartburn. The cat chewed a hole in the baby blanket I'm crocheting my sister. I have cramps. I really wish someone I know would stop bitching to me about everything. I have cramps. My flat iron doesn't work anymore (I look like Sideshow Bob). I have cramps. I stubbed my toe on cement. I have horrible cramps. Trey is at work all day and I miss him. I have cramps. There isn't any food or beverages in our house. I have cramps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only been awake for my birthday for about two hours, so who knows how it'll turn out. So far, its not looking hopeful.  I've medicated myself, I'm going to lay in the bathtub with my new book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there are any good changes to the day, I'll be sure and let you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112979799723713679?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112979799723713679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112979799723713679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112979799723713679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112979799723713679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112974152221092087</id><published>2005-10-19T18:49:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T22:28:37.550+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Separation Anxiety.</title><content type='html'>I know I sound like a total dork, but I'm sitting here sad right now because Trey is at work. He's been working a lot this week, they're doing UCOF, which means he comes home for weird periods of time, then leaves at weird times. I actually sort of like the schedule. He's usually home from 11:00AMish - 6:00PM, then home again at 12:00AM, then back to work at 6:00AM. I really like having him home with me during the day, but when he leaves at night, I miss him because its his "regular" time to be with me. The house feels so lonely when he's not here during this time of day. I've been crocheting with my neighbors. We're like little old ladies. Ordering take out, crocheting and watching scary movies since our husbands are gone. At least I have them to hang out with, they're some of the nicest people ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is my birthday and those silly girls are trying to be secret about doing something for me since Trey will be at work for the later part of the day. I swear, they're horrible at trying to dig up information. This is just the most recent attempt to find out birthday info. In the middle of dinner Adrianne goes, "So Sallee, what's your favorite kind of cake?" she answers then goes, "Jennifer, how about you?" I replied, "you don't have to buy me a birthday cake, you dorks!" They all looked at each other, laughed, then tried to act like they had no idea what I was talking about.  They're crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of birthdays, &lt;a href="http://www.ioffer.com/img/1128150000/_i/8361128/1.jpg" target="NEW"&gt;I need this&lt;/a&gt; and a Louis Vuitton passport cover.  &lt;em&gt;(Yes, I said NEED.) &lt;/em&gt;I'm going to make it happen. Happy Birthday to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;[edit at 10:13PM] &lt;/b&gt;ok - so like an hour after the initial post, I bought the Louis Vuitton passport cover.  I bought it in pink. I know, I'm such a sucker for pink. I would post a picture to it, but &lt;a href="http://www.eluxury.com" target="new"&gt;eluxury&lt;/a&gt; is gay and doesn't allowing direct linking to pictures or to the product. Retards. So this is what the site says about it: &lt;em&gt;An exquisite case for the sophisticated traveler. &lt;strong&gt;(That would be me.) &lt;/strong&gt;A passport slips into the open pocket, while two additional pockets provide space for cards and papers. &lt;strong&gt;(that I always lose on the plane)&lt;/strong&gt; Natural cowhide tanned with plant extracts; ages over time to a rich patina. The inside is made of lambskin lining. &lt;strong&gt;(sorry poor baby lambs!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; When it arrives, there will be pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112974152221092087?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112974152221092087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112974152221092087&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112974152221092087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112974152221092087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/separation-anxiety.html' title='Separation Anxiety.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112964913211984176</id><published>2005-10-18T16:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T17:26:17.353+02:00</updated><title type='text'>This and that.</title><content type='html'>I was going to take some pictures for this post, but I couldn't find my camera on my desk or anywhere within eyes view so I gave up. I know, I'm lazy.  The baby blanket for my sister is coming along nicely.  It looks more like a scarf at the moment more than anything though.  Speaking of making things, I started working on a Christmas wreath for my front door.  I ordered some stuff and got it all in the mail today. I came home and put it all on the wreath, including battery powered lights. Now I'm just missing the bow. I ordered some wire edged ribbon to make bows to go with the garland on my balcony, but the color red doesn't match the reds in the wreath. Trey of course said it looked fine, but if you know me, it wont fly. I think I'm going to use gold ribbon anyway.  I also got my tree skirt in the mail, its the cutest thing I've ever seen.  When I pulled it out of the box and put it on the floor to look at Trey even said, "awww! That's adorable!" Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I are both trying to figure out what's wrong with our needy cat.  That little ball of fluff is attached to my hip or his. She constantly needs to be held and rubbed. She literally tries to CLIMB up you to be held. She'll stand on her back feet against us and meow.  We have no idea what her problem is. Trey said  maybe both of us are dying of cancer and she's just trying to love us before we die. Haha.  She's being so weird though, she lays on the bed with us ALL night, gets up with Trey when he's getting ready for work then gets back into bed with me. If she's not sleeping on the bed, she's just staring at us. Taking us in. Its kind of freaky to wake up to a cat purring and just staring at your face. I've been telling Trey lately that I wanted him to get me a &lt;a href="http://www.lilpoodles.com/images/pupsforsale/teneil.jpg" target="new"&gt;Teacup Yorkie&lt;/a&gt; in April when we're back in the states. He said it was fine, so maybe Laura Grace is afraid she's going to be replaced!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eBay business is going awesome. I'm waiting on eBay to get back with me though. They're taking forever! I need to get all this paper work back from them for my new powerseller account.  I still haven't came up with a user name for the account. It cant be gay like before; TreysArmywife. Geesh. I need something professional. hehe.  Oh - and don't mention to Trey that I make more money in a &lt;strong&gt;week&lt;/strong&gt; than he makes in a &lt;strong&gt;month&lt;/strong&gt;. It's a touchy subject.  Because he's the "bread winner" and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one of my previous posts I was talking about what type of car I wanted to buy. I think I've decided - for now. Trey says he knows I'll change my mind again before the actual purchase, but I really think I wont. I think I've settled on a &lt;a href="http://216.127.91.106/north_pics/JTEHF21A320081384/DCP_6626.JPG" target="new"&gt;Toyota Highlander&lt;/a&gt;. Its &lt;a href="http://216.127.91.106/north_pics/JTEHF21A320081384/DCP_6673.JPG" target="new"&gt;big&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://216.127.91.106/north_pics/JTEHF21A320081384/DCP_6664.JPG" target="new"&gt;roomy&lt;/a&gt; for our future little Simpsons, and comes with all the &lt;a href="http://216.127.91.106/north_pics/JTEHF21A320081384/DCP_6647.JPG" target="new"&gt;bells and whistles&lt;/a&gt; I want and &lt;a href="http://216.127.91.106/north_pics/JTEHF21A320081384/DCP_6650.JPG" target="new"&gt;don't need&lt;/a&gt;! The price isn't bad either. I know I originally said &lt;s&gt;we&lt;/s&gt; Trey wanted a hybrid, but they're around $5,000-10,000.00 &lt;em&gt;more&lt;/em&gt; and they're ending the $2,000 tax return at the end of this year. We can save $10,000 on the initial price of the car and just pay for gas which pretty much evens out.  Who knows what we'll do. We might purchase something on Christmas leave since car dealerships usually have really awesome deals at the end of the year. But if I cant decide, I guess we'll just wait until April when we're home for good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112964913211984176?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112964913211984176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112964913211984176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112964913211984176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112964913211984176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/this-and-that.html' title='This and that.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112947781183871007</id><published>2005-10-16T17:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T17:52:57.970+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Elf Shoes.</title><content type='html'>I finished the shell stitch baby blanket for my friends son, Connor. I'm happy with it and the hat that I did to match....the booties are another story. They look like weird elf shoes, but after my third pair of horribly misshapen booties I gave up and will send the best of the trio (and hope that the glory of the blanket blinds them to the tragedy that is the booties). If you have any elf children and need some booties, I have some available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v155/purdyblueyegrl/connorset.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learn something from every project...from this one I've learned that I hate making big projects but the final payoff is great and I am physically incapable of making any tiny foot covering. My next projects in production are a pink and white blanket with pink ribbon weaved in for my sister who is due in February. This will be baby and girl number two for her.  Then I think I'm going to make a pink sweater for Laura Grace to wear out on the balcony in the snow. Ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112947781183871007?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112947781183871007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112947781183871007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112947781183871007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112947781183871007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/elf-shoes.html' title='Elf Shoes.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112923166385186052</id><published>2005-10-13T19:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T21:27:43.913+02:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Years.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Trey and I's 3 year wedding anniversary! I can't believe its been three whole years! It seems like it was only a few months ago that we stood in front of our family and friends on and promised to love each other forever. I guess time flys when you're having fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey has a tendency to spoil me, and today I went to the mail room to check the mail.  I think I broke the all time mail room package number. He ordered me sooo much stuff the trunk of the car was FULL. If I had one more box, I would have had to strap it to the top of the car.  I think he ordered me everything that every online store had to offer and everything &lt;a href="http://www.potterybarn.com" target="new"&gt;Pottery Barn&lt;/a&gt; would ship out to us.  I have enough clothes to clothe a nation, so if you need to borrow anything let me know. ha.  I even have a few cute new pairs of shoes.  But you cant borrow those. I love shoes.  Of all the 2891212 things I got, I'd have to say the huge fluffy robe that is monogramed with my name is one of my favorites. Ok - and the shoes....and some new lazy around the house pants... and this really cute sweater...oh, and my cute pea coat... alright, I love all of it!  I should take a picture of that massive bundle of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my friends and I found this German "dollar" type store.  Its not really a dollar store, maybe like a 15 dollar or less store. I was so excited. I bought Laura Grace a bunch of new cat toys which have bells, so I'm probably going to regret that when its about 3AM. I also bought some Christmas stuff and I found a bunch of other stuff I want to buy later.  I didn't buy a whole lot this time because all my friends I went with didn't have much money to spend right now.  I didn't want to look like, "look at me, little rich girl buying everything she wants!" I dunno, I worry about stupid stuff like that. It's weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and I are going to buy a new car next year when we move back to the states.  Any suggestions?  Trey wants a hybrid, especially since you get a 2,000 tax return on them. Not to mention the gas savings. I said I could maybe drive a &lt;a href="http://automobiles.honda.com/models/model_overview.asp?ModelName=Accord+Hybrid&amp;bhcp=1&amp;BrowserDetected=True" target="new"&gt;Hybrid Accord&lt;/a&gt;, but I don't really know a lot about hybrids or who even has them. I really want an SUV, but who sells those?  I know the Ford Escape comes in a hybrid.  Does anyone else know about hybrid cars and who sells what?  I don't want some alien space ship looking crap either! ha.  We don't want to spend over $30,000 on a car, so if you know of something you can suggest, let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112923166385186052?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112923166385186052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112923166385186052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112923166385186052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112923166385186052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/3-years.html' title='3 Years.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112906030299001722</id><published>2005-10-11T21:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T21:51:42.996+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Open up!</title><content type='html'>I know you read this, its okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the dentist today.  The first time in 3 years.  When you hear the military gets free health insurance, lets just say you get what you pay for... NOTHING.  It took me 3 years to get a simple cleaning.  Gesh!  I have perfect teeth though, the guy said he was &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; impressed.  He said since the military is crazy about giving dental appointments people usually have horrible teeth.  Yeah, I felt special.  Let me bling my smile. Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done a whole lot of much lately.  After the dentist I had dinner with my neighbors.  All of us are husband-less for awhile.  I ate so much food I wanted to puke.  I think tomorrow night we're going to order Chinese, watch movies and crochet like little old ladies. hehe.  Tomorrow is my 3 year wedding anniversary. I'm going to try and not think about it.  Trey was so sad last night.  He kept telling me he was going to run away and come home for at least 5 minutes, so we could be able to say that we at least SAW each other on our anniversary! I told him he was crazy.  Sometimes I think he wants the sentimental stuff more than I do.  He trys to play tough guy, but he's really a big baby at heart.  If the people at work knew how sweet and silly he is with me the whole time he was home, he'd never hear the end of it. At least I have something to black male him with. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight with my friends was fun, but when I come back into my house I just get so sad.  When Trey isn't home at night it just seems like the life was been sucked out of this place.  I miss him.  I want to talk to him. I want to snuggle him and bury my face in his neck and breath in the way he smells.  &lt;em&gt;*sigh*&lt;/em&gt; I know, its only 3 days, and I was without him for a year.  But no matter how long or far away he is, I miss him just as much everytime.  Whenever he is away, I cant motivate myself to do the things I need to do. I get tired of being lonely. I try to find things to do every night so I'm not just sitting here, by myself, the blackness outside pressing in, nothing to do but play on the Internet, watch bad TV or worry myself to death over something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An anniversary missed and then 1 day later he'll be back.  I'll stop complaining. At least my husband is just in the field and not deployed. I know so many others who cant say that.  I'm one of the lucky ones this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112906030299001722?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112906030299001722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112906030299001722&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112906030299001722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112906030299001722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/open-up.html' title='Open up!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112895608166930946</id><published>2005-10-10T16:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T16:56:05.420+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Trains, hair and twins!</title><content type='html'>Trey has been off work since Thursday.  The 5 day weekend has been nice.  I hate how when he's home for so long the time goes so fast and we're so happy and then he goes back "there" again.  Back to work. eh.  He's going to be in the field for the next 3 nights and I'm going to miss him terribly.  I know I'm a nut, its only 3 nights, but still!  One of those nights, the 12th, is going to be our 3 year wedding anniversary.  3 years running and we still haven't celebrated one anniversary together. Stinkin' Army! Next week is my 21st birthday and he should be gone for the better part of that too.  He should be working late.  I guess we'll celebrate it at 11pm if he gets home that early. It's really not a big deal though, I guess in ways its &lt;em&gt;just another day&lt;/em&gt;, but gosh, I just want him on the days that are special to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Trey and I took the train to Frankfurt.  We went to the airport to purchase our plane tickets to go home for Christmas leave! Whoopie!  We had to go to the actual airport to book the tickets because we have $400.00 "delta dollars" to spend.  You cant book tickets over the phone if you have a voucher.  So here we go, on the train to the airport. About 2 hours into the train ride it hit me. CRAP! &lt;em&gt;I LEFT THE VOUCHER HOME!&lt;/em&gt; I was so upset I wanted to vomit. After the initial shock wore off we just decided since we were that far into the journey to just book the tickets the normal way at the airport.  True, we could have saved $400.00 and a trip to Frankfurt, but what are we going to do?  Train tickets are much to expensive to just turn around and come back.  We finally arrived at the airport, I told the lady at Delta the dates that I wanted and explained the voucher situation to her through teary eyes. She was probably the first actual nice person I've met in Germany.  All the rest of the German act like they have a corn cob shoved up their ....uh, nevermind.  She was sympathetic, told me since we were military there was no purchase date on the tickets and that she would hold them for me at that price until our date of travel.  &lt;i&gt;Yess!&lt;/i&gt; So on December 21st, I hopefully will not forget the voucher, I will purchase my plane ticket at the airport and then head home!  All of that seems too good to be true though, Trey and I both know nothing like that works out for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went with my neighbor Salle and we got our hair cut.  I swear, Germans have no idea what they're doing.  Maybe its the fact that they have crazy 80's hair, and they want us to have the same, but you never leave that place with what you wanted.  My bangs are way to short and my layers look to choppy.  It'll probably look normal in about two weeks.  Its not what I had in mind, but whatever. I needed a trim to get rid of some dead ends anyway.  After we got done with our hair, Sallee and I went to the library.  She wanted to check out some books on multiple pregnancies since she's having twins. &lt;i&gt;EEEEE!&lt;/i&gt; I'm almost more excited than she is.  We're hoping they're identical, its more fun that way.  Trey told me the other day that when we decide to have kids, we should have twins too.  Like its something you can just pick. ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112895608166930946?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112895608166930946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112895608166930946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112895608166930946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112895608166930946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/trains-hair-and-twins.html' title='Trains, hair and twins!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112852368057388832</id><published>2005-10-05T16:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T16:50:39.033+02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a girl!</title><content type='html'>It's official, my sisters baby in the making will be a girl!  I'm excited. I love little baby girls.  They're so much fun and just so cute!!  Plus, I'll go ahead and admit it, Trey and I secretly want to have the first boy Grandchild in both our families! If she were having a boy though, I'd be just as excited.  I'm more excited for my niece though.  She wanted a little sister more than anything!  I just hope that when they both grow up, they'll be just as close as my sister and I!  Everyone needs a shopping buddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;centeR&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/31/47442136_8cbf44cdb9.jpg?v=0" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/31/47442136_8cbf44cdb9_m.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/26/47436450_db87bf021e_m.jpg" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/26/47436450_db87bf021e_m.jpg" border="0" height="180" width="240"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112852368057388832?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112852368057388832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112852368057388832&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112852368057388832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112852368057388832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a girl!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112820502243654376</id><published>2005-10-02T00:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T00:20:35.946+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Here before you know it.</title><content type='html'>I'll admit, I'm a sucker for Christmas.  I love all the tacky lights, decorations, candy and the strange feeling you get inside when its Christmas.  I'm so excited for Christmas to just get here.  For some reason I've been more excited this year than I have been in a really long time.  Almost or just as excited as when I was a kid.  I'm not sure if its the fact that nothing ever goes on around here in Germany and Christmas will be something new, and something to do, or it could be the fact that after 10 looong months in Germany, I'll finally go home to visit my family.  I have a feeling that its a good combination of all those things.  In light of Christmas spirit, I've been searching all over the internet for the cutest Christmas decorations around.  I will, with no doubt, have the cutest decorated house around here.  And if someone comes up with something a tiny bit cuter than me, I will have to come up with something MORE grand.  I'm secretly having a competition between my neighbors.  I'm browsing online thinking to myself, I will own this place with my decorations!  They will envy me!  Last night while Trey and I were out I purchased a few things for decorating.  My stinkin' neighbors were over and saw what I bought and now want the same stuff.  &lt;i&gt;note to self, hide decorations after purchasing!&lt;/i&gt; For me though, making this "pretend" competition gives me something to do and makes me feel good all at the same time. lol.  So far I've only bought just a few things.  I bought a plain wreath for our front door.  I bought some cute things to put on it, and I've been ebaying for the cutest ribbon imaginable.  I also bought a few ornaments on ebay and at the store yesterday.  Online this morning I purchased this &lt;a href="http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=3162816&amp;cat=435596&amp;type=1&amp;dept=5428&amp;path=0%3A5428%3A435596" target="new"&gt;grand Christmas Tree&lt;/a&gt;, and this &lt;a href="http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=4199134&amp;cat=440750&amp;type=43&amp;dept=5428&amp;path=0%3A5428%3A440989%3A440750" target="new"&gt;cute tree skirt&lt;/a&gt; that will merrily read, "The Simpsons".  I'm really excited about the Tree skirt. haha.  I still need to buy some lights, I will only do white lights, my house will look like something straight from a magazine.  I want to buy some battery operated lights for the wreath on our front door, and although the tree I bought comes prelit, I know there wont be enough lights on the tree for my liking.  So I'll have to add to that.  Also, I need lights for the Garland Im putting up on my balcony.  I made brief mention that I was doing that to a neighbor and then she said she was wanting to do that same.  I told Trey I'd be up at 2:30am the morning after Thanksgiving putting up decorations so to be sure I'd be the FIRST person to have anything up.  That way it would have to be as if they copied MY ideas and not the other way around.  I know, that's so lame, but really, my life consists of the internet and chatting on the phone.  I have nothing better to do or plan out with my time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October 10th I get my German drivers license (hopefully.)  I really should start studying!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112820502243654376?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112820502243654376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112820502243654376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112820502243654376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112820502243654376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/10/here-before-you-know-it.html' title='Here before you know it.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112799344957676507</id><published>2005-09-29T13:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T13:39:57.796+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy.</title><content type='html'>The weather has turned cold here. The winters in Germany are always cold and dreary. The sun never shines. In mid October the snow will start. Laura Grace seems just as depressed about the weather as the rest of us. I open the balcony door for her, but she cant go out in the rain. Instead she just sits with the door open looking out. I can tell she wants to go out there and watch the birds and to sit on the patio furniture in the warm sun. She loves going out there. Whenever she hears me open the door she'll always come running. Shes been extra loving lately. Maybe its because she's depressed? She wont leave my side. She's always in my lap. Even when I sit on the toilet to pee, she jumps in my lap. I asked her earlier if she was preparing me for kids someday. I'll probably have one of those kids that are attached to my hip and wont let me do anything alone. She just replied, "Merrow"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'm the only one like this but sometimes I hate having friends. I hate that people like me. Somedays I just want to sit in my house alone, not have anyone bother me. Not have anyone call me. Not have anyone IM me. Sometimes I just want to not be bothered. But instead I smile and let the neighbors in, talk on the phone for hours when people call, and reply with IM's. Is it wrong of me to be that way? I really have no idea. Sometimes I think I'm the only one who thinks that. It's not like I'm ever the one making the effort to be friends. I never call anyone other than Trey, I never go to my neighbors unless I need an egg or something of that sort. Who knows - its just weird because when I was little I didn't have friends. No one wanted to talk to me. No one would sit with me at lunch. Now that I have all the friends in the world, I don't want them. I just want to be left alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112799344957676507?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112799344957676507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112799344957676507&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112799344957676507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112799344957676507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/09/rainy.html' title='Rainy.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112713127253216040</id><published>2005-09-19T13:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T14:01:12.536+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh-choo!</title><content type='html'>The weather here has turned colder, in the 40's and 50's, and wouldn't you know right when it turns cold I manage to get sick?  I told Trey I'm not leaving the house anymore this fall/winter.  Every time I leave I end up getting sick!  He's been extra sweet to me though, so maybe being sick isn't &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; bad. He cooked me breakfast this morning, it was soo good, but I just wish I had more of an apatite.  I couldn't finish all the food he made me, even though I really wanted too!&lt;p align="justify"&gt;It should start snowing here in October.  I can't wait.  October is a good month, it holds both my 3 year wedding anniversary AND my 21st birthday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112713127253216040?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112713127253216040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112713127253216040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112713127253216040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112713127253216040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/09/ahh-choo.html' title='Ahh-choo!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112697275756374572</id><published>2005-09-17T17:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T18:03:03.503+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Doggie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Poor Trey. &lt;img src="http://www.dasbecca.com/wp-images/smilies/cry.gif"&gt;  He woke me up this morning in tears.  I asked him, "baby, what's wrong?" and he just fell into me crying.  He finally told me that his dog, Bear, died.  He was hit by a car.  That dog was like his best friend since he was a kid.  I felt so bad for him.  I know how it feels to lose an animal friend you care so much about.&lt;p align="justify"&gt;In hopes of cheering him up, I told him we'd go to McDonald's and he could order 20 Chicken McNuggets.  McDonald's doesn't just cheer up kids, its for grown ups too! &lt;img src="http://www.dasbecca.com/wp-images/smilies/wink.gif"&gt;  He's doing better though, I had just bought him a new PS2 game, KillZone, so he's been keeping his mind off things playing that.&lt;p align="justify"&gt;After McDonald's we got some shopping done.  I bought some cleaning supplies. I'm such a sucker for those things... I love to try all the new products and I have to use them as soon as I get home. I know, my life is pathetic.  We bought Trey some new Class A pants for his dress uniform.  He's going to the E5 board in October and the pants he had before were to small.  I guess eating 20 nuggets at McDonald's can fatten you up. &lt;img src="http://www.dasbecca.com/wp-images/smilies/whatever.gif"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I think I'm going to go lay down with Trey and take a nap.  Then later I think we're going out to dinner.  Maybe chinese food, its Trey's favorite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112697275756374572?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112697275756374572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112697275756374572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112697275756374572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112697275756374572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/09/doggie.html' title='Doggie.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112687450651684907</id><published>2005-09-16T14:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T18:02:44.426+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flickr!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Whoo-hoo, a flickr photostream on the right side bar.  I actually did one thing I wanted to accomplish with this site.  I just wish I had a paid account and could make more folders instead of just three.  Argh.&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I've been following the &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8544668/"&gt;Today Show throws a Hometown Wedding&lt;/a&gt; series.  Today was the wedding and I'll admit, I cried like a baby. I'm such a sucker for those types of romantic things.  It was a beautiful wedding, it reminded me of my own, I often wish I could go back and do it all over again.  Knowing what I know now though, I wouldn't have stressed so much about it or had been so nervous.  I would have actually &lt;i&gt;enjoyed&lt;/i&gt; the day more!  I was so nervous walking down the isle and getting married my flowers were shaking in my hands.  Don't get me wrong though, it was the happiest day of my life, and it was so wonderful, but I just wish I had relaxed a little!&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Anyway, I'm going to color my hair, shower and maybe find something to take out of the freezer or dinner tonight.  I have no idea yet what to make for dinner.  Maybe we should just go out, but I don't know.  We've been eating out a lot lately it seems.  Trey is off work until Tuesday so we're going to have a long weekend of fun together! I have no idea yet what kind of fun, but we always think up something!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112687450651684907?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112687450651684907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112687450651684907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112687450651684907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112687450651684907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/09/flickr.html' title='Flickr!'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16773551.post-112681159582828244</id><published>2005-09-15T21:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T21:15:06.833+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A new beginning.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;For the past two years I've had a site hosted by a friend. In the past I've always felt that it was a stupid idea to be hosted, at any time they could delete your account and everything that goes along with it. For some reason, the account I was posting with is having some problems and for some reason my intution tells me &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; had something to do with it. Maybe not though, but none the less, I wanted a new site. Too many people knew of my old site, people I dont wish I talk to anymore. I wont post a link on the old site to the new one, for two reasons... 1. I dont want to, and 2. I can't post there anymore! I have a feeling she may have changed some of the settings with the site so I couldn't post, and the fact that we never talk anymore may have a lot to do with it. Also, the fact that I kind of told her how I felt about a few things might have had a major impact. Who knows though, and who cares? I wanted a new beginning and I've got it right here. &lt;p align="justify"&gt;The site url is tjsimpson.blogspot.com, the t and j, for Trey and Jennifer. Trey is of course, my husband whom I love and adore dearly! In the future I plan on taking some cute couple like pictures with him, some stuff I can post here. We don't have many pictures of us together, so I want to work on that! Speaking of pictures, I want a flickr account, one with pictures of things that matter to me. I need to start carrying around my camera with me. Actually, I really wish I had a nice camera. One with a on/off function for the flash. My current camera has no off flash feature so I have this ugly tape mess over the flash. I hate how the flash makes everyone/thing look pale and weirdish! &lt;p align="justify"&gt;I need to find some cute smilies for the site. Some to go in the writing of the blog to show my emotions. I had some pink ones that matched my other site, but I need some to match this one. Hopefully I'll run across something, or &lt;em&gt;maybe&lt;/em&gt; make my own.... haha, yeah, right! &lt;p align="justify"&gt;Ok, I'm off to twiddle with a few things on the site, maybe do something about the smilie problem and to bug Trey. Teehee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16773551-112681159582828244?l=tjsimpson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/feeds/112681159582828244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16773551&amp;postID=112681159582828244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112681159582828244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16773551/posts/default/112681159582828244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tjsimpson.blogspot.com/2005/09/new-beginning.html' title='A new beginning.'/><author><name>tjsimpson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
