I hate you Miley Cyrus.

I'm going to risk annoying a load of parents by confessing my true feelings - Hannah Montana, you annoy the tar out of me.

It's not your Southern accent that is somewhat grating (this from a person who grew up in the South), and it's not because you have me completely stumped over how you can possibly sing with those choppers.

Seriously, your teeth scare me.

No Miley/Hannah, it's because your song "The Climb" affects me like no Disney Machine-generated, teen-pop-star-diddy has a right to.

I get goosebumps when the song transitions from just piano to full accompaniment (is that the correct music lingo?)

I become weepy with your lyrics of how life is an uphill battle, because yes, on some days, it really is.

I want to yell "sing it sister!" when you tell me to keep moving and keep the faith.

But then I remember that you're 16 years old.

16!

Easy for me to say, but when I look back on the stresses I had then, I'm able to confidently say I had no clue.

Absolutely none.

Which frankly, scares the crap out of me. As it should you too, Miley. Because what happens in 10 years when we both look back - you on the glory days before rehab and bankruptcy? Me on when my kids were relatively easy and not driving?

OMG!

So forgive me if I stop listening to Radio Disney for awhile. I'm totally sick of the Jonas Brothers' squeaky "Paranoid" anyway.

Sorry.

(For my friends, I offer up "The Climb" for your listening pleasure, in case you have no idea what I'm talking about. Fair warning, you might want to close your eyes and just listen to the lyrics instead of watching this cheesalicious tribute to Pink Floyd. It almost kills the song for me. Almost.)