The One From BSC to SATC.

When I was at the impressionable age of 9, I got hooked.

Hooked on BSC.

The Baby-Sitter's Club, that is.

1.  There was Kristy Thomas.  President.  Tomboy.  Bossy.  Big Thinker.  Loves baseball. 

2.  There was Claudia Kishi.  Vice President.  Artist.  Funky style.  Bad speller.  Loves Nancy Drew and candy.

3.  There was Mary Anne Spier.  Secretary.  Good listener.  Shy.  Sensitive.  Loves Logan Bruno.
4.  There was Stacey McGill.  Treasurer.  New Yorker.  Sophisticated.  Diabetic.  Loves to dot her i's with hearts.
5.  There was Dawn Schafer.  Alternate Officer.  California babe.  Tree hugger.  Vegetarian.  Loves ghost stories.

I loved those girls. 

(Even Kristy Thomas.  Who we all knew, even at just 10 years old, was bound for lesbianism.)

Would stand before my mirror and think, "Would Claudia approve of this outfit?"  And with the two pairs of layered and alternating bright socks, leggings and oversized t-shirt dress, would nod my head and pretend to receive a charcoal-stained high five from her. 

Wished I was more like Mary Anne.  Probably because she had brown hair and was calm and quiet -- the exact opposite of me -- not to mention the dreamboat of a boyfriend Logan Bruno she had. 

Dreamed of one day living the Stacey McGill New York life.  Which I did, for a short time, and like Stacey in book #28, Welcome back, Stacey!, eventually came back home.

But, my favorite was Dawn.  I even convinced Mother Mary that I desperately needed two holes in each earlobe when I turned 10... just like Dawn had.  And, um, hello?  She had a wicked tan, long blonde hair, blue eyes, and lived in an old farmhouse.

And, for four years, I lived in that farmhouse. 
In that messy room with the private phone line. 
In that quaint town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut. 

Coveted the pages on family road trips and had to be dragged out of the backseat to pose next to the obligatory welcome to such and such state sign, or view the vastness that is the Grand Canyon, or ride the teacups at Disneyland.
Or some other such nonsense. 

And then one day, it all came to a halt. 

When Mother Mary lined up every single book of the series that I owned (and I owned them all, mind you) up against our brown 1970's style covered couch.

Like she was lining up the all of my beloved characters before a firing squad. 

Then, she fired away.

The camera, that is.

And what came out of it was a photo of me, my arms wrapped around my beloved series, like I was begging for their death row pardon.

Then, their little binded bodies were gathered up and sent off to Goodwill, the public library, or a less fortunate student of hers.
Or some other such nonsense.

I have never forgiven her.

Alas.
I grew up.  Eventually.
And before I knew it.
Just the other day, in fact.
I realized, the girls had grown up too.
Had graduated from high school and college.
And much like one of their earlier jaunts: Super Special #6 New York, New York!
Had decided to celebrate their graduation by up and moving to New York City.
Had decided to get hooked on something else entirely.

Sex and the City, that is.

An older, wiser, and more sexed-up version of Baby-Sitter's Club.
Where the girls have traded their Kid Kits for Bourke bags.
Their converse hi-tops for Manolo Blahniks.
And their private phone line for a private jet to Abu Dhabi.

1. Where Kristy Thomas = Miranda Hobbes.  Lawyer.  Type A.  Cynical.  Loves to pretend to be a lesbian while playing on her company's baseball team.
2. Where Claudia Kishe = Carrie Bradshaw.  Creative writer.  Funky outfits.  Bad spelling saved by her Mac PowerBook.  Loves wearing candy necklaces.
3. Where Mary Anne Spier = Charlotte York.  Mother.  Traditional romantic.  Blue-blooded.  Loves Harry Goldenblatt.
4. Where Stacey McGill = Samantha Jones.  Public Relations.  Confident.  Glamorous.  Loves to, well, you know.
5.  Where Dawn Schafer = Me.  Please, oh please, oh please, oh please?

You are all breathing in right now with realization, aren't you? 
Thinking, OH MY GOD.  YOU ARE SO RIGHT.
I know.
I've watched the show for years.
And I JUST realized it.