Feel Good Friday: I'm a Bitch

It's a rarity when I turn on the radio in the Bosjolie-Bridges household.  In fact, I almost forgot we housed one.  Tucked away in our upstairs guest room closet is the biggest honking piece of 80's equipment you'll ever see.

It goes a little something like this:

I hauled her out of that closet and managed to slowly descend the the stairs without toppling over from this relic.  Memories of my high school days came flooding back twofold.  I can still see it clearly perched atop my dresser where every single morning before school I would hit that power button to be greeted with my favorite Canuck radio station, Hot 89.9.  (Is that station still even up and running?)  "Rick Dee's and the weekly top 40!" would come screeching out of the speakers, and there would be me in all of my awkward teenage glory, dancing around my room in my padded bra and underwear to music like this:

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your health, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way...


I loved that song.I think at that time I was attracted to it just because it was an excuse for me to say "bitch" around my parents.

I should also add that my parents HATED my music.  Anything that was pop, hip hop, or basically anything outside of the classic rock and country music relm was jokingly referred to as "junk".  



"Turn that junk down!"

"what happened to real music!"

"Why not pop in some Creedence Clearwater Revival?"

My dad was constantly policing the TV and radio-not that he didn't want me listening/watching that stuff ever-but he just didn't want me to do it when he was around.  MTV, Degrassi and the original 90210 were examples of "junk" entertainment. Then when reality TV hit-oh boy.  That just upped his validation that television was going down the tubes.  Mom and I would listen to his little tirades about how television that is supposedly reality, but really isn't, and oh, It's all just more junk. Junk Junk Junk.   An exciting movie to him is a black and white cowboy and Indians flick.  Now that's some serious entertainment.  (Catch the sarcasm?).  I love you dad.:-)



So in the mornings when he was sleeping, and after school before he came home- I would blast my Merideth Brooks and watch my MTV until my hearts content.


10 minutes ago I just heard "I'm a Bitch" on my childhood radio, and I smiled.  A real shit eating grin.  Those were the days.  The days of Jn'co, sketchers, sunflowers and tiny backpacks.  The days of my moms old station wagon and...of course my stereo.  My trusty old stereo that still pumps out the jams just as great as it did the first day I received it as a Christmas present.



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