If you are anything like me, you avoid high school reminiscing at all costs.
I think part of me fears that if I think about it too long, some Freaky Friday incident might transport me back to those days of awkwardness, compulsory uniforms and the endless politics. Oh the terror.
However, Hollywood would appear to want to remind me of my experiences by consistently dreaming up increasing ways to make me feel that I did not live out my teen years in a satisfactory manner. There was certainly no singing in corridors, people weren't forever walking into each others' houses unannounced and no one hatched wacky but amusing revenge plots that ended in a dramatic self-realization.
The crowning glory of all high school memories are of course the camps. Filmic representations think they are filled with drama, intrigue, romance and laughter all lived out under soft sunshine in lush fields.
In reality, I remember copious amounts of mud endured in heavy rain in fields of dried grass and cow pats. That's not to say there weren't good times, cliches of telling stories around the fire and such, but I also clearly remember exhaustion, longing for a real bed and everyone being ill. My extensive movie watching also did not prepare me for cows outside my tent at night. I don't care what anyone says - cows outside of picture books are scary.
Even in urban adventures, forcing a diverse group of adolescents together in close proximity does not result in a Breakfast Club situation. Instead, everyone is again ill (it must be a school camp law) and therefore cranky and school budgets mean midnight flights and long bus trips. If that is not a recipe for social disaster, I don't know what is.
Yet, my high school experiences will always be superior to the Hollywood version; I have friends who are actually three dimensional, not cardboard cut-out stereotypes (jock, nerd, cheerleader etc) and enough anecdotes to save any conversation from an awkward silence.
But please don't make me show you my high school pictures.
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