Early in this blog's life I wrote a piece about the dangers of Facebook stalking your crushes, and other similar investigative tendencies, and how they can often leave you feeling more disappointed than twitterpated. However, I have never been very good at taking my own advice, and my curiosity has just turned around and bit me in the ass harder than it ever has before.
When I was in the 10th grade, I had one of the greatest teachers I've had in my life. He taught European History, and he was one of the only teachers who has every managed to keep me awake throughout an 8:00 AM class. Also, he was gorgeous. That always helps. But really, he was an incredible teacher, and even though Social Studies were not my cup of tea, I always busted my ass in that class because I wanted him to think I was cool. Except there was one time when I forgot we had a test, totally bombed it, and the disappointment he expressed will scar me for life.
The following year, despite his great relationships with his students, he got pink slipped by my school. Bastards. He ended up getting another job at another public school, but that job ended fairly quickly and, as far as I know, he stopped teaching after that. What a tragic waste.
I tried to keep tabs on him for a few years, but he was always a very elusive figure and hard to pin down, so I gave up. About an hour ago, though, I felt inspired to Google him and see if I could figure out what he was up to this days. And you wanna know what I found?
Apparently my old beloved teacher was arrested for possession of analogue drugs this past April. And he is definitely not pretty anymore. I recognize him, for sure, but he has definitely let himself go. I don't know if he got locked up, or if he was even guilty, but the entire picture is saddening to see after maintaining such fond memories of him for a whole decade.
I would definitely still love to reconnect with him, if it were possible, but I had hoped I would find either A) nothing, or B) news that he was doing significantly better than last time I saw him. Sometimes, I guess, you just have to let memories be memories, and stop trying to dig them up.