Old school

I kicked off this weekend with dinner at Sophie's with my mom and Michael.  Michael's favourite. restaurant. ever.  I must say I do love their veggie and nut burger.
Saturday Michael and I ran 10 miles in the sun.  It was hilly, but I felt good and strong and I haven't had a good run like that for a while, so it helped a lot mentally, given that March is going to be THE month with all the long runs in it.  Man.  So many miles to run...
Hopped in the car, picked up R and we headed back to my old stomping grounds to meet up with Po and L for dinner.
It was weird going back.  The house I grew up has been torn down.  South Surrey is a nightmarish urban sprawl of strip malls and restaurants overlooking parking lots.
When I was growing up in South Surrey there was one mall: Semiahmoo.  Later, Peninsuala Village was built - and it was needed - but from there things just ramped up epically and with little or no regard for the environment or efficiency.  Later, when I used to visit my parents at the house I would be seething with anger and road rage by the time I got there.  South Surrey has become a bloated mecca for Lulu Lemon clad thirty-somethings with aviator sunglasses buying their bread at Cobbs and then getting back into their SUV to drive to the next strip mall to buy their organic beef, while retaining strangely wrinkle-free faces even though they are up to their tits in debt.  I know I sound like a curmudgeonly older person when I lament the South Surrey of my youth and so I won't lament it.  They can have it.  I had something different.
We had 2.5 acres.  We had trees to climb and a forest in our back yard to explore.  We had fresh cut grass that would get dewy at night as we ran around our yard with our dog, trying to avoid slugs, watching our cats watching their prey, listening to chorus of birds in the trees.  Our neighbours had horses and chickens and we had a swimming pool and would sometimes eat our lunches at the side of the pool without even getting out.  We rode dirt bikes and we bicycled or walked to the corner store for candy.  Sometimes we'd walk home from school.  In the early morning hours we could hear the distant rumble of the long-haul trucks on the 99.
Conversely, high school was not so much of a nostalgic time for me.  I was chubby and not-popular.  I was bullied and I spent a lot of time doing homework.  I went to one high school dance.  With my girlfriends.  I dated one boy for about two weeks, but he dated everyone so I was really just on his check list.  I didn't play an instrument or participate in sports.  I didn't particularly like my life and high school wasn't an enjoyable experience.
It was strange to return to the place that I grew up for a weekend.
We met at the Washington Avenue Grill for dinner which, strangely, was where my 10 year high school anniversary was held.  That was nine years ago.
Nine years ago I wanted to make an impression on Rod Storesley because I'd had a crush on him in high school, but he only had eyes for my best friend at the time: Carrie.  I don't think I even spoke to him that night, nor did he even notice me.
Nine years ago I was pissed that a friend of mine had already gotten married to a very wealthy guy because I felt that I was prettier and more interesting that she was, and I wasn't even engaged.
I don't know where the line blurred and I stopped being the person that I grew up as and became the person that I am, but returning to White Rock showcased how distanced I've become from that person.
White Rock's a nice place.  It was formative.  I learned a lot.  I have some found memories and some not so fond memories.
I'm glad I left.  But it's nice to visit.