I received an email yesterday that contained lyrics from a Salt-n-Pepa song. No one pointed them out to me and for all I know it was unintentional, but I knew they were Salt-n-Pepa lyrics because I used to look like this.

That’s me, circa 1986, the year Salt-n-Pepa released their first album. I was 15 years old, which was prime hip-hopping age. Of course, I went to a practically all-white high-school, but technically you’re still allowed to be white and hip-hop as long as you bite your lower lip.

Unfortunately, back in 1986 you couldn’t dance because of the risk that your bangs would go flat. This meant spraying a half-a-bottle of Aqua Net directly on your curling iron, teasing your hair with great force, then applying more Aqua Net. Afterward, it was imperative that you not stand near an open flame.

These ladies know what I’m talking about.

The overabundance in the 80’s took a lot of work. You had to shred, bleach and peg your jeans, you had to destroy your hair, stack bracelets up your arm, and you had to make room in your closet for a bag of shoulder-pads. Sigh. The best shape my body was ever in was completely wasted on 80’s fashion.

Thank goodness the neon, lace and crazy clothing shapes are gone for good! What? They’re back? That’s okay. My teen daughter will look good in big, baggy tunics.

I, however, won’t be wearing those clothes again. And as for my poor, poor hair; I will never again tease my bangs unless it’s for Halloween. The styles of the 80’s are gone for good.

But, as shallow and corrupt as the music was, I can’t seem to shake it. Or, Push It. Same difference.

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My oldest sister has always had an incredible knack for decorating. She lives a few hours away and one time when I was staying with her, I actually got out of bed extra early just so I could surround myself with her pretty stuff. True story.

I visited her home this past weekend and, though I wasn’t there for a happy occasion (same city, different sister), I had that same urge. This time, I actually fought the desire to fill up my car with as much as I could grab. True story.

Her living room. Swoon.

See that white sofa? SHE HAS A DOG. A big one, who runs freely in the rolling fields surrounding her house. First born overachiever!

This is her mud room. What you can’t see is the gorgeous, heavy, antique door that marks the entrance. What you can see? That she has forced bulbs in February and I can’t grow plants in June when I buy them from the nursery already in bloom.

Doesn’t everyone have leaded glass over their kitchen sink? Oh, look! More bulbs!

A nook for when one of her guests picks up the guitar and plays. True story. It happens every time I’m there. Also, look at her phone! Who has a cute phone? Oh yes, that’s right…she does.

All I know is that I’m 40 years old and I still want to be her when I grow up.

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The other day, me, my friend Bean and our two families were talking about getting together. We were going to go to Bean’s house.

She said, “If you come over, you need to know that my house is a mess. There is clutter everywhere.”

I assured her, that I completely understood, but I don’t think she believed me. I’m here to tell her that she’s not alone. Here’s why…

This is my dining room table. Also, you should know that we recently ATE at this table while this massive pile sat with us. I had to do a two-armed swoop to push everything to one side, because the only other place to sit is our breakfast nook and that space doesn’t look any better.

Let’s take a closer look, shall we?

1. Lots of socks, because my husband has started doing the laundry and he won’t cart them around like I do. Now, they include one baseball and one softball sock from the games that were played IN JULY.

2. Two first aid kits.

3. Golf balls in a Santa bag.

4. Two mini water bottles.

5. Last week’s clean laundry; some thrown over chairs, some folded, but for goodness sake, NOT PUT AWAY.

6. A coverless book called Magic Eye II.

7. Buried under the book is a stuffed reindeer named Comet.

8. Buried under all of it is a homework assignment. Lucky, for us, it was from three weeks ago.

9. And, the white thing that looks like a tablecloth, is actually the table pad from Thanksgiving dinner.

Stay tuned for next time, when I make Bean feel even better about her house when I post a picture of my kitchen counter!

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I felt the need to tell my son that, no matter what the problem,

“Sharts” are never the answer.

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