High School Not-So-Confidential
As those of you who have been following my Tweets already know, I made a trip to Port Credit on Friday night to visit my high school’s annual alumni pub night.
Turns out all those bad Hollywood comedies about high school reunions are bullshit. For one thing, I only saw two people there I knew: my friend Tania, pretty much the only person I met in high school that I ever kept in touch with anyway, and the guy she dated through most of that time. Seeing as it has been 20 years since my graduation, I expected to see quite a few of the ‘89 grads. Turns out the bulk of the alumni that showed up were from the ’50s and ’60s with a few folks there who looked like they graduated high school when Port Credit was still part of Upper Canada.
The price of admission was worth it for the chance to walk around the building again, though. I was amazed at how much of it I had completely forgotten. I spent a good chunk of my formative years in that school, and damned if I could remember where the hell a bathroom was. Once I got wandering around, however, things started to come back. Found old lockers, old classrooms. Oh, and we discovered that Tania could still fit inside a locker. 
But things had changed just enough to give it a weird, alternate-universe sort of feeling. I half expected to see some of my old teachers walking around with goatees and gold lamé sashes.
So while the high school reunion thing wasn’t exactly a life changing experience that resulted in “revelations” or “closure” of any kind, I’m glad I went. If nothing else, wandering the halls reminded me of a few things that may crop up in my creative writing class later.
Afterwards, I joined Tania and her beau for a late-night coffee to chill out and catch up. The night became later after missing the GO train I wanted to take. I really have to remember to set my watch alarm to the transit schedules or something.