10 Year Reunion - Holy Fuck!

Okay, I just got asked to be a friend of the 1994-2000 High School 10 Year Reunion Page on Facebook and I feel slightly weirded out by the whole thing. Holy shit, 10 fucking years. It doesn't feel like 10 fucking years, Jesus . . . 10 years. . . . . . . . Well, if I think about it, it kind of does. . . . . . I am a completely different person to the little shit I was when I did my Leaving. I don't even see anyone from school anymore. Bar a couple of lads I see at the weekend, Russell Simmons, Rory Gleason occasionally and recently Oscar Long, other than that I don't see anyone. I wonder if they see each other. Ye know, when you aren't seeing everyone, you start to think that everyone and everything is still the same but just without you. I bet everyone is in the same boat as me, bet you no one sees anyone.

When I think back to my time in school, I have to say, I had a fucking laugh. . . . in a very conservative way of speaking. Conservative is the word that definitely springs to mind. You know when some people say, 'Your school years are the best years of your life.' well I very much dispute that. My life improved considerably sense leaving school, I had a laugh in school but not compared to the splitting your sides laugh, I’m having now. I thought High School was brilliant. I am going to go as far as to say, if I have kids, I am definitely sending them to High School. It was quality. It was more like a summer camp than anything. I learned fuck all academically, no, not that I learned fuck all, that is the wrong way of saying it. I just came to the realisation that half this shit was complete bollix, like the chances of me using calculus in my future life was very slim.

When I left St. Mary’s in Rathfarnham, my primary school, I was sent, originally, to De La Salle, Churchtown, it was one of the schools where most of my class mates were going. Well, it was ether that or Colaiste Eanna, and fuck that for a game of snowballs, I will get into GAA in another write up on another occasion; I don't quite have the time now. Besides I wanted to play rugby which De La Salle was offering so this was my chosen place of education and let me tell you, I fucking hated it. It was shit. It was so completely shit that Columbine situation was on the cards. A complete nightmare for a normal, poshy, middle class boy like myself. Your time was spent either dodging horrible cunts in the corridor, going for a smoke or sitting in a class, listening to some ejjit teacher who was obviously either a 3 steps away from being a convicted paedophile or 12 steps away from being a full blown alcoholic and the only thing you can think about is Wesley, this coming Friday, which was the only place in your life at that time, where you could even remotely try and feel up a bird. Then you had some rugby coach giving you shit for missing training. Training for what, I ask you? De La Salle were one of those teams that trained their balls off all year, full of passion and pride, awaiting the Junior & Senior Cup and some how were lucky enough to be drawn Rock in the first round every year, 40 - 0, see youse later, lads, youse are shit.

Fuck that, I said to myself. I got my Junior Cert, packed my bags and got ass to The High School in Rathgar.

And let me tell you, it was like a breath of fresh air. No one else in the place realised it but me. They didn't know how easy they had had it. Instead of dodgy cunts in the corridors waiting to give you slaps, it was replaced by a load of sound cunts who wanted to have a chat while you went for a smoke in a clean jacks. Instead of Nazi teachers who still used corporal punishment, it was replaced with bang-on, intelligent educators that actually gave a fuck about you, well, in some cases that is and instead of dreaming about Wesley at the back of some class, well, that was replaced with a load of tasty, protestant birds sitting beside you, waiting to rip your cloths off . . . . . . . well, maybe not rip my cloths off but you get the idea. It would be an understatement if I said life was getting better.

It is going to be very interesting to see how everyone looks, everyone that little bit fatter and balder. Everyone with their brilliant jobs and their slick cars. People talking about their kids and their wife’s. Jesus, I am gonna be talking some serious bullshit that night I can tell you.

I just got an old year book out, fucking hell; there are a lot of cunts I haven't seen in years. I bet you it will be the most toe-curlingly boring affair on the planet. I will go in there looking to see what all these lads are at but I'll just bee-line it for the lads I know, with one eye on the door.

I wonder what it is, aswell, what will happen at this thing. I have an image of this horribly, over organised wine reception in the school then a meal in the old canteen or the assembly hall, then down to the 108 to have a few scoops for old time’s sake, Oh Jesus that would be hellish!