Have you noticed that I seem to blog when I'm at my most depressed? No, well then never mind.
I was reading this article today and this guy was lamenting that most bloggers only update once or twice A DAY. Well yes, and who are these people who are updating more often? Don't they have jobs? I guess, that my job requires me not only to be awake, but in front of people, and that I can't possibly multi task means that it radically cuts down on the time I can spend online, but really who is updating their blogs four or five times a day.
Wait, don't answer that.
So I'm getting seriously depressed. Max has left the studio, and as much as I had a crush on him that's not at all why I am depressed over his absence. Ok maybe a little bit, but since he's become my teacher, we have become friends. We used to sit and talk. We used to walk out together. He drove me home twice (which is kind of wierd since I only live three blocks away). And I told him. I TOLD HIM that if anything happened he was to tell me, and the schmuck gave me his word that he would. And now he is gone. I don't even know why. Apparently he left without saying good-bye to anyone, which makes me suspcious that he was fired. But it's cute little Max-ayla. My new teacher is Eddie, who honestly is a better teacher. I like him, but for sheer fun there was no one like Max. And he was a lot more fun to watch to. But then that was his whole platform-if you have fun dancing then people have fun watching you dance. I still can't handle having people vanish. And its so depressing without him. I used to always schedule him on fridays so I could start my weekends off right. He was just such a happy sunshiny little thing. Ok he was six foot three-so not so little. It's kind of like what I have with my students. I mean I teach them for a year. Three days a week. All those hours in classes reading their papers, tutoring them, often helping them with other papers and resumes and then poof! Gone. They don't call, they don't write. Often when I see them on the street they don't even wave. They have already moved on to the next class and the next set of expectations. And they don't realize that I remember them. I wonder where the hell the go. Did anything I teach stick?
Yep I get too attached. To men. To students. To fluffy bunnies.
At least the fluffy bunnies have an excuse for not calling.