Been quiet lately...

But I really haven't had much to say. The past few weeks have been an emotional wringer, to say the least. Depression has kicked up pretty bad and I have no idea what to do about it. It's not like after my nervous breakdown where getting on Lexapro helped. I think this is mainly situational.

For the first time in my life, I'm facing the problem of having no money. There is $20 and some change in my bank account right now. The messed up part? It's largely my parents fault.

Well, let me rephrase. The first one two weeks ago was. On February 9th, they decided to take $7900 out of my account without telling me for money I owe them. I found out when I tried to buy lunch at work a little over a week later, my card got declined, I called the bank and found out. They said they left $500 in there, then my paycheck got deposited the next week which would have left me over $1000. I'm almost positive the charges the lady at the bank read off to me from the 9th to two weeks ago didn't come nowhere close to $1000. A couple hundred, yes, not a thousand.

Fast forward to last night. I went to the bank to take out some money to help Ben with his car payment. By my estimation, there was AT LEAST $300 in the account. I moved $300 to that account from my savings right after I found out about the money transfer, then used $100 of that to open a new account my parents have no access to, so that left me $200. I got paid three days later, which was just over $500, then paid around $225 in bills. I haven't bought anything but necessities since then. Food for me and Robbie, cigarettes, stuff like that. Needs instead of wants. When I checked my balance last night, it said I had $52 in my account.

I am almost hoping there are unauthorized charges to my card at this point. That would be a lot easier to deal with than calling and finding out about another money transfer done without my knowledge.

On the bright side of all of this, I get my Sam's Share this week. Even with the month LOA for my surgery, the week LOA when those issues started in September and the week LOA I had to take in May when my neck got messed up and the muscles locked up on me, Melissa estimates I'll still be getting around $1100. I changed my exemptions to nine for the Sam's Share and with that and my regular paycheck, which will be a little more since I've worked as many extra hours as I can, I should have at least $1600 in my account on Thursday.

Must not forget to change exemptions back on Wednesday...

Most of it I am going to take out Friday and then deposit to the new account next Monday. After the Sam Share hits, I'm changing my direct deposit info to my new account.

On the downside, when I call the bank later and find out there were unauthorised charges, that means I'm going to have to go through the statements for the last few months and try to figure out what charges are and aren't mine. Ugh.

One last weekend...

...before I go back to work. It sucks and I'm looking forward to it all at the same time.

It sucks because I've enjoyed all the extra time I've gotten with Robbie and Ben. Even when I was laying on the couch in post op pain and/or sick as hell from the Loritab's, I got to see them way more than I would had I been at work for eight hours, four to five days a week.

I'm looking forward to it because on Sunday I'll have been off for a month and I'm looking forward to getting out of the house and being productive regularly again. As much as I go back and forth on liking/not liking my job, it will be nice. But at least now I can remind myself that with starting school in the fall, I won't be there much longer anyway.

So, for my last weekend as a free woman, I'll hopefully be taking my driving test tomorrow, which means being at the DMV by 7am as a walk-in. Ick. At least Robbie's on normal hours and I'll already be up, but still. The ass crack of dawn is still the ass crack of dawn no matter how you try to dress it up. Like putting a plumber in a tutu, the crack is still unattractive no matter what. Anyways. I say hopefully because Ben re-hurt his back at work tonight and is back at home, so he may not feel up to driving that much.

Regardless of whether I take the test or not, the rest of the plan for the weekend involves Robbie and I staying over at Ben's place, which is something we all love. We bring the Wii with us so Robbie has something else to keep him occupied, as well as a few of his movies, but he also plays on Ben's PS2. I'm going to get a few toys for him to keep over there tomorrow, maybe a bucket of Lego's and a couple other things so he's not always playing video games. Robbie loves the fact he has his own room there, something we can't do here due to space constrains. He got to pick out his Lightening McQueen sheets and blanket before we stayed the last time and it thrilled him to no end. His bed never stays made, usually the bedding ends up in the walk in closet in his room, where he will make a pallet on the floor to play, but that's a five year old for you.

So, yes, it's going to be a fun weekend. :)

New and improved stomach.

The past couple of weeks have been a bit of a challenge with my stomach. It really makes me want to hit everyone that told me, "You'll be as good as new once you have your gallbladder out!" While the pros are still outweighing the cons at this point (especially the fact it probably would have ruptured had the docs dragged their feet anymore), it's still requiring some annoying adjustments until my body adapts.

1) No eating 6 to 8 hours after eating.

If I eat a big meal, I have to wait at least six to eight hours before eating again, no matter how hungry I feel. I have a fast metabolism, so it's pretty common for me to be hungry after a few hours. But doing so right now will result in me getting sick. I discovered this the other day after having Cattleman's steak with Ben then Taco Bueno eight hours later. This is when I became aware of the fact that my stomach is digesting as quick as it did, as I revisited with undigested bits of salad, potato and steak later on when my stomach decided it was having quite enough of all this nonsense. Definitely no bueno.

2) Alcohol makes me sick.

Whether it be one beer or a few, one mixed drink or a few, one shot or a few, it sits heavy on my stomach and will make me sick. Plus, I feel like I have a hangover for two days no matter how much I drank. As a result, I'm going to quit drinking. I've been wanting to for awhile anyway, plus Ben and I have talked about it a few times as something good for both of us to do, so now's the time.

3) Spicy food hates my stomach.

Anyone that knows me knows I like spicy food. If it can't take the paint off the side of a barn, it's not hot enough. For awhile there, it was a running joke whenever I would go out for sushi with my friends that "sushi night isn't sushi until Kortnee overdoes it on the wasabi at least once. Well, apparently my cast iron stomach has hung up its hat and said "I'm done". Anything even remotely spicy will send me to the bathroom within a half hour. Even just a small sprinkling of crushed red pepper on pasta will do it. I feel like this is the biggest gyp ever. People told me not to eat spicy food when I started having the gallbladder issues, to stick with bland food. Spicy food didn't bother it at all, it was the bland food that bugged me the worse. Now it has flipped. Bland food loves me, spicy food hates me.

Most of it is easy enough to deal with. I just eat smaller meals more often, sometimes just grazing throughout the day rather than eating a proper meal. I don't drink. I avoid anything that might be hot. (-sob-) But that doesn't make it any less annoying.

The perks of all this?

1) No more pain.

This is the biggie. In the three months it took to get my gallbladder out, from the initial pain to surgery, I hurt all the time. While it was worse after eating (sometimes worse than others), I always hurt in my back under my right shoulder blade. It varied from a steady ache to feeling like someone was stabbing me in the back. I also hurt under the right side of my rib cage, which varied from a steady ache to something akin to what one would think the chest popping scene from Alien might feel like. The night before my surgery, I had the worse gallbladder attack to date. Which was really fun since I had so much to finish for Christmas before my surgery. I alternated between being curled up on my parents bed while trying to wrap presents, curled up in the shower throwing up down the drain, to curled up on the porch with a cigarette, crying and reminding myself suicide wasn't an option because it'd be over soon.

The pain I experienced with gallbladder redefined my concept for pain. After the pain of labor and of kidney stones, I didn't think that was possible. And I'm not one of those lucky bitches that had little to no pain during labor, oh no. I would take labor AND a kidney stone simultaneously over the pain of a gallbladder attack.

Funnily enough, when I talk to women whom have had both and I say its worse than labor, they agree but admit they never thought about it like that. Most women will agree that kidney stones and labor are pretty on par with each other, but no one ever compares the gallbladder. My theory is that a gallbladder attack is so much worse, you automatically rank it in another category without even thinking about it and don't think to compare it to something like labor until someone else points it out. My coworker Sharon is who first clued me in on the comparison when she said, "It's like labor fifty times over but in your stomach."

2) Breakfast is once again edible.

I don't mean breakfast foods, I mean breakfast in general. Ever since I was 16 and started having stomach issues, eating within the first couple of hours after waking up would make my stomach very upset. It started out as a once in awhile thing, depending on what I tried to eat, gradually getting worse over the years until every time I ate within the first two hours of getting up would send me running for the bathroom thirty minutes later. Right before the gallbladder attacks started, even drinking coffee of Dr Pepper was causing this reaction.

Kinda hard to believe that I may have been dealing with my gallbladder for 12 years, I just didn't know it because it didn't present any of your A typical symptoms until last September. Go figure, it is my luck after all.

But yes, that's where I'm at stomach wise.

And did I mention no pain? :D

Chapter 1

Henry Banks wasn't the type of person that made waves. Not even in Unity, Arizona in 1843. Since his arrival to the town, he settled down quietly, working himself a modest living, and caused no trouble. He wasn't the richest man in town, but by far was he the poorest. He liked everyone, saw the good in everyone, no matter how ruff the ruffian, and was well liked in return. He never talked about his past before coming to Unity, and no one ever asked. The Sheriff of Unity, Tom Reynolds, especially liked him. Henry had a fair and even Outlook, Tom would say. An eye for an eye.

This opinion eventually led to Tom deputising Henry. After months of protest, of course. Henry did not want to be in the public eye, just wanted to live a quiet life. It may have taken Tom getting Henry rip roaring drunk and singing with the ladies at Unity Saloon to get him to accept, but no matter. Henry was eventually the deputy sheriff of Unity, and was well received.

Even as deputy, Henry did his job well. He eventually made a daily venture to the Sheriff station where Tom would sit in a rocker. Henry stood next, of course, cause he didn't feel he was of the stature to sit with the Sheriff yet. Tom didn't protest, was just glad his pupil was falling into his failed role. Henry had his own opinion, which Tom consulted frequently, but he never questioned a final judgement, something he had found deputies lacking in.

Until, that is, about six months after Henry's appointment. Tom and Henry were having their daily commune when Tom spotted someone new on the way into town.

"Well, look at what we have here," Tom said.

"Hmm?" said Henry in his usual noncomittal way.

"We have ourselves a figure of folklore in our midst."  Tom pointed to one of the four riders coming in from the west.

Tom looked up at Henry. He saw Henry look at the riders casually, then do a double take.

"You see her?" Tom asked.

"Yes," Henry said after a pause. "I do."

"Her name is Annie James," Tom said, a bit incredilous. "I've heard of her."

The rider in question was unmistakable. She rode with men, but was obviously female. Annie wore the clothing of a man, but tailored to fit her figure, including a steep cut in the front to display the tops of her breasts. Her hair was tied back, blonde at the bottom, black halfway up and under her hat. But was unmistakable about her was the six gun on each hip.

As other people on the street caught sight of hér, they stopped and stared. The gang paused just before the station. They seemed to converse with the woman, then the rest headed for the saloon, while she took a slow canter to the Sheriff's station.

"Afternoon," she said from the coral, dipping her hat to the Sheriff."

"Afternoon," Tom replied with a hat dip in kind, noting Henry did the same with a shaky voice and hand.

"May I have a moment of your time?" the woman asked.

"Of course," said Tom, and felt his deputy stiffen beside him.

The woman dismounted, tethered her horse, and approached the Sheriff, stoppimg just at the top step of the station.

"I wanted to introduce myself coming into town," she began. "Because a woman like me is not usual."

"Of course you're not," Tom said. "You're Annie James."

It didn't take a genius to see her eyes fall and her shoulders slump. "Oh. You've heard of me?"

"Of course I have," Tom said, forgetting about his deputy for the moment, who was pulling his hat down low over his face. "Who hasn't? The woman that dresses like a man? The woman that wears guns like a man? And, more importantly;" he leaned forward, glaring at Annie. "The woman who can use guns just lime a man?"

Annie seemed to shrink back, then puffed herself up. "Yes, I am all that. But did you hear I don't cause trouble? Did you hear I don't draw a weapon unless in self defense?" she took a step closer and looked Tom in the eye. "And did you hear if you want me to leave right now, I will? Me and my gang. We will buy water and supplies, give your town commerce, and be out of here."

Tom looked at her for awhile, and Annie looked back. He dected no deception in her...but he had the town and what they thought to think about.

"Well," he said. "I have to say, in my town's opinion, your presence wouldn't be very wel-"

All of a sudden, Henry kicked the hell out of Tom's boot.

"Well..." Tom restarted. "What I meant to say was, if you and your gang don't cause no trouble, you're welcome here."

The surprise and relief to cross Annie's face was unmistakable. "Thank you, Sheriff. We're much obliged."

After she rode off to the saloon, Tom turned to Henry. "You better have a good explanation for this."

"I do," Henry said, finally raising his head, to reveal eyes brimming with tears. "She's my wife."

"

Why stupidity should be a crime.

I've been following the case of Aliahna Lemmon pretty closely since the news broke she was missing. Even after the man watching her admitted to murdering the poor girl, seemed like a pretty straight forward case. For whatever reason, the man watching three girls decided to murder one of them.

That is, until you actually start reading more in depth about the case, and you find out exactly how stupid the mother of this poor girl was.

Here is the article I read that really goes in depth of what happened.

At first, it doesn't sound like Tarah Souders did anything wrong at all. She moved herself and her three daughters in with her father to take care of him during his final days. I think that's something most of us would do and would want to be with our parent(s) in their final days and there's nothing wrong with that.

However, there is something wrong with it in this case. The trailer park her father lived in was home to 15 registered sex offenders, including her own father who was convicted of molesting a child in 2006. There were two men in particular whom had been helping her father out that she expressed concern about before moving, one of which was Michael Plumadore, the man that ended up murdering her daughter. He wasn't a convicted sex offender, but obviously something didn't sit right with her for her to be concerned about him.

This whole thing could have been prevented had the mother thought this through more carefully.

1) Moving those children to that trailer park would be like sitting a can of gas and a book of matches in a room full of pyromaniacs and telling you expect them not to touch it. The chances of those girls leaving that trailer park unscathed were slim to none. While none of them may have been murdered at the hands of someone else, they would have had permanent psychological, if not physical, damage.

2) She knew how many sex offenders were living in that trailer park. Rather than move there, she could have moved her father home with them. It probably would have been cheaper, plus would have kept her daughters out of harms way.

3) She didn't know Michael Plumadore at all, yet still sent her daughters to LIVE WITH HIM for a week while she had the flu. WTF??? As a single mother, I've had to take care of my son with a bad case of the flu before. Sure, it isn't the easiest thing in the world, but it can be done. I certainly wouldn't trust Robbie with someone I hardly knew just to make my life easier. The safety of my son is far more important to me than getting some sleep.

Of course, you're going to have people say she had a slip of judgement because she was grieved, but that is NO EXCUSE. Your children come FIRST above everything and anyone else, including your parents. Why she would even WANT her kids around her father after his own conviction as a child molester is beyond me.

The only thing that could have made this story even stupider is if she had moved for a boyfriend and he was a convicted sex offender. With the way the rest of this story has turned out, I'm surprised it wasn't.

It is such a shame this poor little girl had to die because her mother didn't think things through more. It's amazing the two surviving girls are even still alive. RIP little Aliahna.

I still want a hula hoop.

Christmas was a big hit this year. We did ours at home on Tuesday since Christmas Day was so busy. I don't think Robbie cared either way. The expression on his face when he finally realized there were more presents under the tree was absolutely priceless.

Robbie: "Mama! Mama! More presents! What happened?!?"
Me: "Santa came last night after you went to sleep."
Robbie: "Santa?!? He came?!?"
Me: "He sure did!"

He then turned and slowly walked back into the den, like he was in a dreamlike state, with this expression of absolute wonderment on his face.

The big overall was the Skylander starter set. Robbie has had his eye on it for awhile now after seeing the adverts on TV and playing wit the demo in stores. Ben got him the Trigger Happy figure for Christmas and Robbie wanted to play it then. He was a bit disappointed finding out he didn't have the game. He got a couple of triple packs of figures from Santa that he opened before getting to the starter set and had the same reaction. The starter set was the last present he opened. When he ripped the paper off and saw what it was, the roof about came off the house. I don't think I've ever seen this kid so happy over a particular present before.

"Mama! I got it, I GOT IT! YAY!!!"

He's been playing with it pretty much non stop since then. When we put on a movie, he'll usually bring all of the figures to the couch and just play with those. He really likes how you can play it on the game and play with the figures when you're not playing the game.

All in all, it was a great day. Santa brought presents for everyone, so I guess that means we were all good. My take was Tremors, The Nightmare Before Christmas and Cowboys & Aliens, all on Blu-Ray. I can't believe I finally own a copy of Nightmare. It's my favorite movie ever, so you'd have thought I'd have owned it by now, but nope. I don't know why I never got around to buying it, I just never did. I can't wait to watch it with Robbie. He knows who Jack Skellington is from my bedding set and other random things I have with him on it, so I think Robbie will enjoy the movie.

Post Op Fun

The surgery last Thursday went well. It didn't take them long to discover the source of my pain once they were in there. My gallbladder was about the size of a softball, roughly three times larger than what it shouldn't been. They were still able to get it out with the laproscope, but it stretched the incision they took it out through. That incision has hurt and bruised a bit more than the others, which they warned me would happen.

Overall, the recovery hasn't been too bad. I'm hurting, stiff and sore as expected. But no pain in my back anymore and the only pain I feel under my ribs is the internal soreness from where my gallbladder was. I'm hesitant to say this is easier than what I was dealing with. While it certainly seems so, it could be psychological since I know this won't last. Plus the painkillers make it a hell of a lot easier pain wise.

The worse part has been the nausea. I'm on Loritab 7.5 and side effect goes back and forth from a slight nauseous feeling to being sick as a dog. Take it from me, being that sick after abdominal surgery really sucks. It just makes you hurt more, which makes you take more painkillers, which just makes you sicker.

I've decided after surgery, you are always in one of three states. In pain, comfortable and sleepy, or sick as hell. The gray areas between those states are just the transition period from one to the other. You can jump back and forth between in pain and sick as hell quicker than you can go from in pain to comfortable and sleepy. And you can go from comfortable and sleepy to either in pain or sick as hell really quick.

The fun of pain killers. But it's better than the alternative.