Several former classmates from my old high school are hoping to organise the 10 year reunion for the leavers of 2002 (my year 10 class) later this year. I’ve had a few Facebook requests in the last couple of months that have served as a heads up to a potential function in the latter part of this 2012.

I don’t have any desire to drop my hard-earned on flights back to Tasmania specifically to attend a high school reunion. I mean, you don’t choose the people you go to school with, you’re lumped in with them indiscriminately and from that group ascertain the people that you’re most likely to get along with and form friendships from there. School is like work; you get put into a situation with a bunch of people that you may or may not like and may or may not have anything in common with and you make the best of it. It’s convenient to ‘make it work’ so that your years at school/work aren’t completely unbearable.

Of the friends I had during high school, I could tell you what one or two of them are doing now. If I had to guess what a number of the others are doing, “Smoking pot” would be somewhere near the top of the list. This doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

I’ve never been much of a runner. Indeed, I’d go as far to say that I’m pretty awful at it. However, as I progressed through years 7 to 10, my ranking at our annual cross-country event improved so rapidly by the time I reached grade 10, I was inside the top 10 in my year. Now, I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty sure that if you were to conduct a scientific study, there’d be a direct correlation between my improving rankings and my classmates’ penchant for smoking pot (and their subsequent reduced lung function.)

That aside, any of my genuine mates from school are still my mates now. I don’t need to go to a reunion to ‘reconnect’ with them. I can give them a buzz or drop by their place to say hi. As for the rest of the people I went to school with, I could give zero fucks what they were doing then and could give negative fucks what they’re doing with themselves now. I’d fully expect them to harbour the same feelings towards me. This isn’t to say that I was anything less than an affable and approachable young man in my time at high school, but seriously, who gives a shit?

These are the following conversations that I’m hoping to avoid by not attending:

“Oh, you’re a brain surgeon? Great!”

“Oh, you’ve just bought your first investment property? Good for you!”

“Oh, you’ve got seven kids? Fantastic!”

“Oh, you’ve been in and out of correctional and rehabilitation facilities for several years due to your rampant drug use? Superb!”

Undoubtedly, there will be a few that go back because school meant something to them. I don’t hold this against them. Heck, I admit that even with my cold-hearted, cynical outlook, I struggled to not shed a single, embarrassed tear when the P.A. roared to life with the sounds of Vitamin C playing ‘The Graduation Song’ over the P.A. at our final assembly in 2002 (which was immediately followed up by a live rendition of Green Day’s “Time of your life” from one of the year 9 bands… harrowing). However, I detached myself from any feeling of nostalgia regarding my schooling long ago.

Call me the eternal optimist, but I’d like to think that my best years are ahead of me (unlike those of us who peaked in high school). I don’t need a reminder from the past to serve as an affirmation.

Oh and I couldn’t possibly fucking stand a whole night of people talking about their kids. I don’t have kids and still consider myself one, therefore the last fucking thing I want to be doing is listening to people drone on about their children because it’s the only thing they’ve actually achieved of note since they left school.

I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck. About. Your. Kids.

/end communication