I had some pants I needed altered (I have wee legs for someone who is 5’6”), so this morning instead of going through the drive-thru at my dry cleaners, I parked and walked in.

As I opened the door, the smell of sandalwood incense hit me, and in that instant I was 14 again.

I’m not the only one who went through a vaguely-hippie, incense-burning, hemp-necklace-wearing phase as a freshman in high school, right? Hey, at least I didn’t listen exclusively to Bob Marley and wear patchouli, though I did have some green-tinted wire-rimmed granny glasses (that I had forgotten about until I smelled the incense, ha!). I remember it irritating the shit out of my mom when I would burn that crap, and now I know why: it is totally ridiculous.

P.S. No lie, a few weeks ago I was behind a car with a Yaga sticker on its bumper. And it was a NEW sticker – not faded and peeling on the window of some old rusted VW.