My new favorite show is on MTV. WTF, man? This ain’t 1992.

I’ve chronicled my love of Degrassi, Sweet Valley High and John Hughes films, so it’s no big surprise that I’m completely fascinated by the teenage experience. In fact, I’m working on a YA novel and a start-up that’s geared towards kids age 11-17, I have the sense of humor of a teenage boy and I share clothes with my 12 year-old daughter (In fact, I’m rocking acid washed jeans and Lola’s Adidas kicks today. Pow!). But that’s not the only reason I’m all over “My Life As Liz.”

I could never get on board with “The Hills” or anything else that MTV has churned out these past years, so I was taken by surprise when I totally got sucked in by this show within the first three minutes. It’s thirty minutes of teen angst at its finest and revolves around Liz Lee, a high school chick in a small Texas town who’s a bright red beacon of awesome in a shallow blonde puddle of average. The “It Looks Real But It’s Scripted” production completely captures what it’s like to be struggling with your identity and finding your place in the world (or small country town…not that I would know anything about that, being a redheaded alt-girl who grew up in Western North Carolina…), including rejecting the banality of the masses while at the same time longing for inclusion. Le sigh. Growing up is exhausting.

One of my favorite things about the show is that while Liz has an unrequited crush on her friend Bryson (who, SPOILER ALERT!) has a girlfriend), it’s not all teen romance and hormones gone wild. It deals more with friendships, bitchy popular girls who make fun of her because she’s different, finding one’s voice and making it work where you are because, really, when you’re in high school you’re pretty much stuck wherever you are until you graduate and figure out a way to get the hell out of town.

Now that I think of it, maybe it is 1992, year of my high school graduation, after all. I’m blaming “Hot Tub Time Machine” on this one.

(Follow Liz Lee on Twitter right…over…here!)

The time was 1987. The place; Somerset, KY. I was a 13 year old dork with braces, an Olgilvie Home Perm and a few crazy dreams…

One of my dreams was to marry Ricky Schroder. We’d move to Hollywood and shack up in that swell mansion he lived in on “Silver Spoons.” Another was to publish a best-selling novel. Never mind that I had no idea what I wanted to write about. But the dream that seemed the most doable was the dream of being on the Canadian hit “Degrassi Junior High.”

Degrassi was a soap opera for kids. It was your typical “After School Special” fare, which then spun off into “Degrassi High.” There I learned what to do in case of date rape, teenage pregnancy, parental death and the development of an eating disorder. Thanks, guys!

The thing I liked best about the Degrassi empire (I’m now totally caught up on Degrassi: The Next Generation, now airing on The N) was that they never dumbed it down for teenagers. Young people aren’t dumb; they just act like it sometimes (and uh, so do adults). They can tell when they’re being treated like idiots. Now that I’m a mom I try to take the same approach. My 11 and 8 year olds aren’t ready to hear about abortion but you better believe they know how a baby is made – and how to keep that from happening. The creators and writers of Degrassi respected their audience and as a result, 35 year old chicks such as myself are still watching, all these years later. Their brand works. And yes, I’m still holding out hope that one day I’ll get my showbiz break in the halls of Degrassi Community School. Linda Schuyler and Stephen Stohn, I’m ready for my close up…