Last week, I went to Vegas to visit my dear friend and see New Kids on the Block. I figured it’d be cheesy and kind of goofy, which it totally was, but I also found myself singing along really loudly to my favorite songs. Seeing Joey McIntyre, whose poster was on my childhood bedroom wall, felt like a trip back in time. I was my old preteen self again, hanging with the same friend from all those years ago. Screaming. Singing. Dancing. Turning fifty next year, I suppose I needed to reaffirm that I am still the same person I’ve always been.