A.] JUNE 2007. Shaking like a leaf on a tree, the walls of Wiley were about to collapse. It was Margie’s birthday on a Saturday night and she had a club of people over- stereo cranked up to a fever pitch bumping and grinding was pandemic. There was sucking of jello vodkas, hitting a bong, whatever that means and those 18 19year olds were fundamentally assfaced, as college kids are known to be. On a Saturday night, education practically becomes secondary to the mayhem only reserved for girls gone wild videos. The side door opened up and a parade of penis walked by. the girls took notice, one, Shana was tripping over herself, walking into walls, knocking over lamps and Allen, in no fine shape himself, thought he’d deliver her to her bed before she really made a douchebag of herself. The problem was, she slept on the top bunk of an 8 foot tall bunk bed. Her leg went up on the first step and she fumbled the second, the third was worse and allen was right behind her swaying dizzily himself in carefree inebriation. Wobbling at the top, she tried to collapse onto the mattress but slipped, nosediving onto the hard ground with no hands outstretched to break her fall.

Sobered in a second, Allen ran to Shana’s side- he could see with a pop the blood break from her nostrils like a crimson tide. She looked like she was going to die with a broken neck. The girls were alerted and they put a gauze over her nose and they jumped into two cars and made there way to the Pasadena ER. Dean Meyers showed up pissed that the kids were underage drinking and giving him more paperwork to fillout. All night, the kids stayed in that hospital emergency room. Shana emerged from the incident with a broken nose and a lesson learned. Allen considered the merits of shitfaceitis.

B.] My dad used to rent movies for free at the sunnydale library when I was just a kid. My fair lady with Audrey hepburn and rex Harrison- it was a terrible movie, even back then but it made pop laugh. He would sing along tooty fruity alarooty. To be honest with you, he wasn’t a big tv watcher- his thing is gardening, he likes to tend flowers and read newspapers in the old language. he always had trouble maintaining friends. I remember this one friend of his, Johann, bald dude with a wife and child- old friends, they went to berkeley together in the late sixties. We would go over to uncle johann’s apartment in sunnydale under the fruitcup downtown and just have a bowl of tofu soup, chat, watch tv and then one day we stopped going because pop had a beef with the guy and he cut him off. That’s how my father went through life in his forties and fifties. To this day he doesn’t have any close friends- he has his wife and they often quarrel and that’s how it is.

Lord this was one shit of a day- these “little angels” I handle in the morning- they want nothing to do with me and the feelings are mutual. I’m counting the days until their departure. In the recent weeks, I’ve been working on positive visualization, only focusing on what I can control- not blaming anyone but myself and what I can do about f#cked up situations. I can’t blame these kids for screwing me over, it’s my fault- what can I do to curb their savage behavior? I’ve been at Career Inc for two years now and this group of “little angels” are the biggest challenge yet. We’ll see if they cost me my job, that'll be the day.