Me & my 13-year-old self

Friday was two things: uncomfortably sticky, and, the day of my reunion with my inner Scrunchie wearing, bright-blue nail polish rocking, mall-roaming teenager. No Doubt made a stop in Indy, and four gals piled into a red Neon, turned on "Tragic Kingdom," and time traveled. We oozed with sweat, excitement, and girl power - the Stefani variety. 

As the curtain fell, the first few bars of  "Spiderwebs" cued up and suddenly everything made sense. Allow me to elaborate: 

- Once in a while I sit back and think about the planet. And most of the time, I trip on it.

- No matter, matter, matter, matter who calls. I gotta screen my phone calls. 

- You're really lovely, underneath it all.

- But I should have thought of that before we kissed.

- You've got me feeling hella good. So. Let's just keep on dancing.

- Oh ... I've had it up to Here. 

It's logical. It's passionate. It's all the advice I thought I'd need in life at the tender, assuming age of 13. Turns out, I was right.