Fangirling Is A Rite Of Passage
It was about seven years ago that I sat all bleary eyed, with throbbing feet from walking in a Puerto Rican Day Parade. As I sat I thought about my children’s childhood compared to my own. At the time, I was working on my first attempt at NaNoWriMo. I sat there and stared at the blank screen and felt incredibly overwhelmed. Sometimes things just flow. Sometimes, I get all researchy to talk about something.
But that day? I had nothing.
So, I started to hum along with the Just Dance 2 music from the other room, which happened to be Justin Bieber when I remembered what I wanted to tell you!
I realized then that I loved Justin Bieber!
Wait…what? That came out wrong!
I love the idea of Justin Bieber. Wait, don’t leave! Please, let me explain!
I remembered one day we were riding in the car and “Baby” came on the radio. My daughter started beboppin’ around and singing at the top of her lungs. I glanced at her (quickly, I was driving) and she was all Power Puff Girl sized eyes, awash in the Bieber love. I turned the music down and as I preached pedantically about the awesomeness of music from my day, I saw her eyes glaze over.
Come on! In my day it was awesome! I remember how important music was and could attribute endless memories to endless songs. You know, those songs that pop out of nowhere, your melts a little and you feel sixteen again.
NKOTB (if you don’t get that, we can’t be friends)
Boys ll Men
Vanilla Ice (STFU, he was hot)
Shai (let’s all take a second to bask in that awesomeness)
It struck me. Justin Bieber is her Jordan Knight. Her Justin Timberlake. Her Vanilla Ice (shut UP). I can remember the adults around me making fun of some of my music choices. MC Hammer pants…backwards clothes?
So, baby girl? I concede. I will nay-say Justin Beiber no more.
Now? I am feeling way nostalgic.
Until next time, scribe happy and stay sassy,