the boys are back in town.

yesterday i took a time machine back to 1991. it was a bumpy ride.

when i arrived, i was 11 and starting to fully realize the full potential of my relationship with boys. i was awkward with my shoulder length bob haircut that i insisted had to be curled under in a u-shape at all times. my bangs were cut way too perfectly across my forehead and matched the curl of my bob. my vocabulary didn't yet include the term "style" and i had braces with colored rubber bands to complement all my outfits. i was a true work of art.

you are probably pretty jealous at this point - both because you've just found out about my secret time machine and because you wish you were nearly as cool-looking as i was at age 11.

in yesterday's case, i was walking around walmart when i was abruptly teleported back to '91 due to "step by step" by the (in)famous new kids on the block being played over the loud speaker. i knew it must be 1991 since i hadn't heard that song since then and no one would dare play it by choice these days. immediately i looked down and saw myself - an 11 year old girl in my new kids on the block sweater, with my matching new kids on the block shoelaces, earrings, and purse.

oh, gosh, its happening again.

hello, 1991. i thought i had left you far behind. there are many years that i wouldn't mind revisiting. 1991 isn't one of them.

i thought i had it all figured out then. my birthday parties were themed "nkotb". i had the trading cards, the stencils, the card game, the giant buttons that no one could actually fit on their clothing because they were the size of your head. why did they make those giant buttons anyway? did a sharp needle the size of a writing pen tacked to the back of them really make that much sense for teenagers?

i had blankets, shoelaces, socks, the sweater with all their faces knitted together in a colorful array of fibers. i even had a pillowcase with joe's face plastered on it to catch my teenage drool at night.

best (i.e. lamest) of all, i had the dolls. or action figures. whatever they chose to call them to protect their masculinity. joe dated barbie almost every night, and most certainly on the weekends.

i was a megafan.

i had all the tapes, knew all the words, knew all the dances. i had the sway together in perfect timing during the "oh oh oh oh oh" part of "hangin' tough". like the song says, i could "get on the floor and do the new kids dance".

when i arrived back in 2008, i found myself singing along, humming the parts that have grown fuzzy from the years of denial. i realized i no longer know the dances, the buttons have been put away for fear of stabbing someone in the eye, the card game is most likely missing important pieces. the tapes are packed away in some box in the attic at my childhood home and the mice have probably chewed the heads off my dolls. its like a time capsule waiting to be opened by some (un)lucky stranger in the future.

all this is a round about way to warn you the new kids are back in town. which makes them not new at all - but that is besides the point. they are coming to an arena near you in 2008. i guarantee an ambulance will be standing by.

this time around, i'll leave my dancing shoes at home. but maybe i'll practice the "hangin' tough" sway just in case i'm put on the spot.