It's homecoming week here in Ontario. I know because the cashiers at Red Apple Grocery were having a vigorous debate over that most important of topics, Homecoming King:

Blonde Cashier: Matt's got it in the bag.
Brunette Grocery Bagger: I don't know about that.
Blonde Cashier 2 Lines Down: What about Nick?
Brunette Grocery Bagger: I really like Josh.
Blonde Cashier: But Matt is so hot!

I live like 3 blocks from the high school. I should totally go and take pictures. Maybe I will. I should at least watch for a while from behind the fence with the other itinerants and night wanderers.

However, no high school Homecoming has one of these:

Massive pagan ceremony? Nope, just Dartmouth homecoming. It was this past weekend. I loved standing awkwardly before that massive bonfire, roasting one half of my body while the other half froze, hurling shouts at the freshmen, who by tradition must run laps around the fire - this year's '10s supposedly ran 110 laps. Few run the full allotment. It's a big bonfire. Besides, they get tired of the upperclassmen's hazing after a while (Touch the fire! Worst class ever! etc).

My class had the best bonfire ever: it started SNOWING right as we, a herd of 1,000, rounded the corner onto Main Street and broke into a full stampede for the fire. I don't really remember all the details of circling the fire, getting pummeled and knocked around, trying vainly to hold onto the hands of my friends, and that damn kid in a chicken suit (was it a chicken suit?), but I sure do remember looking up and seeing those myriad snowflakes float down and land on everyone's shoulders and wool-capped heads, lit only by the massive orange glow of one helluva bonfire.

One of my favorite memories of bonfire is shouting - screaming, really - AMERICAN NIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!!!!! at one of the '09s during that fall's run. I don't really remember all of the details of just why exactly this was done. But it was sure a lot of fun. And don't worry, the so-dubbed American Nightmare took it in good stride and even waved and smiled at us after a while.

My other favorite memory is roasting marshmallows on the massive pile of coals left to smolder into the night. My friend Ben built a 10-foot-long stick out of several ski poles - the necessary length to reach the coals, as those suckers give off a lot of heat for a long time. It's kind of gotten to the point that I can't remember exactly which pile of smoking coals was from which year. But I'm pretty sure I trekked out to stand by them each fall. I do remember that time with the coconut rum. More in the 'memorable' than 'pleasant' category, that one. Oops.

Alright, enough indulgent reminiscing for me. Hope those of you who were there had a fabulous homecoming!