Author Archives: littlestabsathappiness

About littlestabsathappiness

I'm 31, or 29B if you will, living in a small college town in the Bible Belt. I'm sort of a hippie, a little bitter, love to cook and craft, love Boston Terriers, am in grad school and am a teacher at a private Christian high school. I have two dogs, who are my children. My life is ridiculous, absurd things always happen to me and hilarity usually ensues.

Or Just Delete Me Already!

Or just delete your ignorance.

When Barrack Obama won the last election I was elated.  Not just because the idea of Mitt Romney as our president made me physically ill but because at last the ridiculous garbage spewing would be over.  Oh boy, how I was wrong.  It just goes on and on and on.  On Facebook, on Twitter, in email chains, and at the conservative Christian high school where I teach.  ENOUGH!  I have had enough!  I posted the following rantus on Facebook:

I used to be able to say I liked politics, I no longer do. If you post uninformed ignorance about the president being the devil, or going to jail, or being the Manchurian candidate, or not American, or any of the other nonsense just please delete me. The election is over, can we at least have a couple of years of peace without all this rubbish. I can understand not liking Obama for his policies if you’re a conservative. I get that. Dislike him for the facts, not something Glenn Beck or some other pundit said or some internet chain you read. Please do a little research and inform yourself. Or delete me. Either is fine.

And then I commented because I forgot:

One more thing, the man is not an idiot. He has a degree…..from Columbia……and a law degree from Harvard….he graduated magna cum laude. Give him some credit. How many of you have done that?

And then I remembered again:

“Also, he is not going to come to to your house with the secret service, knock on the door, and take all of your guns. He doesn’t have that authority. He doesn’t even have the authority to legislate it by himself. He’s the president and this is a democracy. This is not a dictatorship.

I really do hope these idiots do delete me.  Or think before they post.


I’m Not Sure Gun Control is the Answer Here

In the wake of Friday’s tragic shooting, people find themselves asking why and how this happened.  This is a tough question.   Fifteen years ago, on a chilly December morning, the Monday we returned to classes after Thanksgiving break I was late to school.  Being the spoiled fourteen year old child that I was, too good to ride the bus and not old enough to drive, my grandfather took me to school every morning.  I was getting ready to leave when my neighbor, Hilary, called.  She had had a fight with her boyfriend, was running late and had locked her keys in her car.  She was upset and wanted a ride.  I told her to come on over; we would wait for her.  This possibly saved my life.  We arrived at school at around 7:30.  My grandfather made the circle in front of the building and dropped us off.  We walked through the lobby as the prayer circle was forming.  She asked if we could go and drop her books off in the ITV room because her books were heavy.  She had AP US History that was taught by teacher at another school in the district.  I can’t remember what I had first period.  I know I had French second period but I cannot recall what I had for first period.  We met our friend Sharon, who also had US History, they were both juniors and I was only a sophomore.  Hilary launched into a tirade about her fight with Chad.  I remember being annoyed because I knew we wouldn’t make it to prayer circle.  I tried to herd them along with no success.  Finally we made it out the door, down the hall, and had just entered the lobby area when I heard the shots.  I don’t know how I knew, I’d never really been around guns before, but I knew.  I turned to Hilary and yelled, “Those are gun shots!”  I grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hallway back to the ITV room.  I lost Sharon in the shuffle but she ended up in the room too, along with about ten other kids.  I remember Brooke coming up to me and sobbing, “Jessica’s down, Jessica’s down.”  There were no more shots to be heard but I had no clue what was going on.  There was no teacher, because it was the ITV room.  There was no one but us kids.  There was a bookcase by the door.  I shut the door and locked it.  Then we moved the bookcase in front of the door.  I remember being concerned because the bookcase was short and you could still see through the top portion of the window of the door.  Everyone sat on the floor.  After a bit you could hear the ambulances pulling up.  We waited…..and waited.  We could hear the paramedics entering the building.   It was the first time I felt like I was no longer in danger.  Up until that point I kept wondering if he was going to come down the hall.  We went to the window and watched.  This is moment I can pinpoint as the most traumatic moment of my childhood.  Other kids turned away but I watched.  I watched them load 8 people into ambulances.  I couldn’t see down to the far end of the building.  I couldn’t tell who they were loading up.  Closer I couldn’t tell who it was because I couldn’t identify the person because of all the blood and trauma trappings.  Then came Jessica.  My French study partner, she was also in my youth group at church.  We had become close that year.  She was kicking and screaming.  Pulling her oxygen mask off her face; fighting like hell.  For some reason this comforted me.  Obviously she was going to be ok.  And off they went.  It would be the last time I saw her alive.  Shortly after there was a knock at the door, it was Mrs. Sharron.  She led us out the side door and all the way around the building to the gym.  I just sat on the bleachers, numb.  Suddenly my mother was there, with her hands on my knees, “Are you alright?”  And then I began to cry. 

It was weeks before I could go back into that French classroom.  I never could sit in the same seat.  I think Madam Upshaw gave me a “C” out of sympathy.  There were councilors available to us but what was there to say?  I recently read a blog by one of my classmates and realized that I have some of the very same feelings that she does.  That I probably have PTSD.  I have an unnatural fear of losing things (people, possessions, memories).  I am morbidly curious about death.  I also have an irrational fear that creeps up on me from time to time.  I just get freaked out and my heart races.  Some days I don’t want to get out of bed and some days I don’t want to leave the house.  I guess you can say that even fifteen years later I’m still traumatized. 

But what does this have to do with gun control?  You may ask.  Well the guns used in the shooting at Heath High School were stolen, from a locked neighbor’s garage.  From a locked gun cabinet, he just happened to know where the owner hid the key.  There’s not a gun law that would have stopped that.   He used a semi-automatic pistol.  Would banning all semi-automatic weapons have stopped him?  I don’t think so.  He had a rifle and a shot gun in addition to the hand gun he used.  So a ban on semi-automatic weapons wouldn’t have helped.  He probably would have just used something else.  He only fired eight shots but he managed to hit eight targets.  So smaller clip laws wouldn’t have helped.  The point is I don’t think any gun law would have helped.

What I do think would have helped would be if someone, anyone, would have taken the time to ask this kid what was up with him?  He heard voices.  If there wasn’t such a stigma attached to mental illness then maybe he would have talked to someone.  We get immunizations and physicals in order to be in school, why can’t we get mental health screenings.   Many people have commented on various shooters that they had “mental problems.”  Well then why weren’t they given help?  For one thing it is so hard to get someone committed.  They have to make threats towards themselves or some else.  Even if a problem is known about, unless that person volunteers for treatment then there is nothing that can be done.  Counseling, especially in the area where I live, is not readily available.  The stigma attached to mental illness is hard to overcome.  This discourages people from seeking help because they don’t want to be labeled as crazy. 

I guess there are no easy solutions.  This is a societal problem.  If we don’t care about others than it makes sense that we wouldn’t value their lives.  It is only until those lives are taken senselessly that then we care.  It is likely that no one showed care and concern for this shooter.  If you are never shown empathy how are you supposed to learn it?  It is my belief that as a human race we must begin to take more care and consideration for each other.  That we must think about how our words and actions affect others. 

Busty Girl Problems: Necklaces

There Goes the Neighborhood

I can be nice when I want to be, really I can, but working with the public for so long has made me an imbittered person with little faith in humaity (Thanks Home Improvement Warehouse!).  But my distaste for my trashy neighbors is not just due to my general distaste for other people.  My distastes comes from the fact that they are the epitome of white trash, WT from now on.  I live next door to a rental house.  When I bought my house these people did not live there.  They moved in right before we closed.  I was already under contract.  Had these miscreants lived there when I first looked at the property I probably would not have purchased it.  Here is a short list of why I do not like my neighboors.

Offense #1

They have two flea infested pit bulls, one which barks all the time, who are tied up in the back yard living in their own filth. This is a clear violation of several city ordinances but if I call it in the dogs will more than likely be euthanized so I do not because I feel bad for the poor dogs. That bark all the time. And keep my yard infested with fleas even though I treat it. Therefore I have to keep re-treated my house, yard, and dogs.  At first they had three but got rid of the 3rd one.  They bought a coon hound puppy to bread with the male pit they had left to make “hog huntin'” dogs to sell.  WTF?  I was unaware we had a wild hog problem here in Rural/Suburbia, KY.  Perhaps they were confused and thought they lived in Arkansas.  They got rid of him because they “knew the landlord would bitch about it.”  Um yeah.  As of late there has been another pit I have seen sitting on the front porch with the husband.  I’ve only seen him a couple of times.  If he’s living there he’s shitting in the house.  Because that’s what they needed, yet another dog, but this one gets to stay and shit in the house.  Enough said.

Offense #2

They have 4 kids and another one on the way and neither of them work. She’s very pregnant and smokes.  Maybe it’s the hater in me but why do we have to stuggle so hard for everything we have and these people do not have to work, do not go to school, and just keep having kids?  Where do they get the money for this?  How do they afford ciggerettes?  Did WIC start giving these out and I not hear about it?  He drives a Cadillac for fuck’s sake!  And older Caddie, but a Caddie nonetheless.  I drive a Jeep I saved up for 5 years for and still had to finance and Gabe’s Camry is a 95 and is falling apart.  But the car doesn’t bother me as much as the ciggerettes.  The likelihood of us ever being able to have children (should we even decide we want them) is slim to none.  Not to mention those I personally know that stuggle to conceive and yet here’s Marlboro Mom next door puffing away.  Hello bitch, turn the package to the side and read it!  You are pregnant!  WTF?

Offense #3

They have people coming and going all the time with loud vehicles and voices. One of the people even has a horn on their car that sounds like a train horn.  A TRAIN HORN!  I kept asking where the railroad tracks were until we figured out it was this douchbag’s car horn.  Sometimes these jackasses park in our driveway, which is on the other side of their house. I came home from work today and couldn’t get in my own driveway because one of their friends was parked in it. I had to sit there and wait for them to pull out.  And this person is at their house all the time.  It’s not like they are unaware it’s our driveway.

Offense #4

The have a giant tent set up in the back yard, and have for the last week. They kids (ages 10 through 1) camp often. At night, late at night, causing said dogs to bark.  Under our bedroom window.  And they have a huge bonfire in the backyard.  With no firepit.  In the middle of the city limits.  With no way to control it, it’s just a fire on the ground.  Next to my house.  And not only are their kids out there, they invite their kids’ friends over too!  SPRING BREAK! Except, some of us work.  Like us over here next door.

Offense #5

They have a BB gun that the various kids and revolving adults shoot it in their back yard. When we first moved in I found a dead dove on the back porch with a BB size hole in its neck.  While I have no proof that they shot this bird, I can put two and two together.  I am constantly worried they will shoot one or both of my little dogs.  Plus if they did shoot this bird, they should have made some effort to retrieve it.  We didn’t have a lock on the fence at this time.  It’s just tacky, and wrong, even if it was an accident.

Offense #6

They throw shit in our yard and my dogs get it. This week it was 1/2 a full size football, torn up. I’ve caught Gus chewing up the arm of an action figure. God knows what he’s gotten a hold of that I don’t know about. He threw up twice last week.  We’ve found various toys and balls thrown over the fence into our yard.  They do not have a fence.  And it’s never things that are in good shape, it’s always stuff that should go in the trash, I am unsure whether or not they just do not have anything that doesn’t look like trash or if they are throwing this crap in our yard on purpose because they don’t want it anymore.  Either way, parents, keep a closer eye on your little hoodlums.  The other day I get a knock at the door and it’s the wife,  “I hate to bother you but your dog has one of our bubble wands and I don’t think he should be eating it.”  So I go out there, chase the dog around the yard for 10 minutes and finally wrestle away the bubble wand.  It’s huge.  Does this look like a dog toy to you?

Of course to my little Boston it looks like a stick.  A yummy chewy stick with which we must play keep-away with  Mommy.  How FUN.

During this, I hear her scolding the kinds not to give their toys to the dog.  ARE YOU SERIOUS? At least she came and told me about it this time.

Offense #7

They pile up shit in their front yard.  AND LEAVE IT THERE FOR DAYS BEFORE TRASH DAYS.  They also throw their trash down in the yard, which then blows into my yard.  MY FRONT YARD!!!!  How hard is it just to pick up your shit?  Really.  REALLY?!?!?  

So you see, even though I may be a hateful bitch, at least in this case I’m justified in it.  I’m not sure how to deal with these people.  I welcome any suggestions.  Reasonable suggestions, that is.

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