Chronicles of Me: Viking Womyn

Pammie, Kelly's Digital Camera

Meet my sister Pamela...aka Viking Womyn.

There is one story in particular, out of the many that my mind drifts back to when I think of Pamela's strength and willingness to go outside of the lines throughout her life.

My sister and I went to two different high schools. She was two years ahead of me. At her school, there was this extremely good looking 6 ft 5 inch star football quarterback that all the girls were swooning over. I forgot his name...but I do remember his face very clearly.

One day, he came over with a friend of his to my girlfriend’s house. While my girlfriend and his friend went into the bedroom for some naive-nookie, I sat across from Large Quarterback Guy on her living room couch. My virginal-self didn't quite know what to do with this mass of a human being. I didn't know him well. I just knew of him from our rival high school. Perhaps it was his lack of intelligence that turned me off a bit, as well as the fact that all he managed to do was look at me with this wanton face, hiccup and burp all at once.

Yah...real attractive.

He got up from his spot on the other end and moved within inches closer to me and that is when I smelled the gross stench of beer coming from his mouth (well, the smell of beer was gross to me back then...now I sortof like it). When I leaned back, he threw his gigantic self on top of me trying his personal best to score a touchdown on Field-Denise. It took quite a few pushes, pulls and oomph to get him off of me. He wanted that goal and could care less about what the opposing team (me) wanted. I then stomped to my friend’s room, pounded on her door (not caring about naive-nookie interruption) and told them they need to come out and take this smelly monster home.

So what happens to him at school the following day?

My beautiful, intimidating as hell sister (from the crowd of artsy mods), charges towards him and his football team posse hanging out at "their spot" on the quad. While he stood there with folded arms, looking as tall as the empire state building next to my petite sister, she forcefully throws her warm (not hot) coffee from her styrofoam cup onto his face (note: she's so cool to drink coffee back then at this age). As he looks at her in utter disbelief with wide eyes and java dripping down his neck and shirt...she points her finger up at him and says, "Don't ever touch my baby sister again!!!” and walks away with her dainty nose held high.

Nice.

He of course never touched me again fearing the Wrath of Pam. I saw him once at a party and he lowered his head as he passed me by.

If you think about it...in high school, when the importance of popularity is at its worst and cliques run far too rampant, this was so incredibly BRAVE for her to do this.

She was a mod. He was a football star.

It could have risked her status as Miss Cool but rather it gained her much respect from her peers. The fact that her love and protection for her baby sister overruled what this popular football player might think of her was rad (insert 80's word).

Puppy Love, Kelly's Digital Camera

Well...this bravery has continued to manifest itself in her life in a myriad of ways. She pretty much kicks butt and takes names with everything she does.

Sometimes when you're that age, you question how much your siblings really love you. Her actions that day spoke so LOUDLY about her fierce love for me that it carried me through many years. I didn't question after this…I just knew. Even when we fought over who got to use the mirror in the bathroom to put our 80’s blue mascara on (ugh).

Lovin' on you, sissy...you Viking Womyn!

Could she BE any prettier? I know...try living with it all your life!! Her beauty is so classic and what amazes me is that when you think she couldn't get any more beautiful...she does. It's nice to know my future bebe's might steal some genes from her, eh??