Published on November 23rd, 2011 | by BioniKate0
I’m Not Dead Yet: Aunt Bionikate’s Guide (Part 1)
I’m Not Dead Yet is DerbyLife’s section of commisery and advice from the ranks of the current derby injured. Got a story to share? email@example.com Reprinted with permission from the autor’s blog, Kate On Skates
Over the past several years, I’ve had the great honor of being an “aunt” to five very extraordinary little girls. These fascinating little creatures are the daughters of close friends, and it is one of my greatest thrills in life to love them, spoil them, and teach them crazy new things (much to the chagrin of their parents, I’m sure.). Leaning strongly toward the side of feminism (thank you, Grandma, for that one), I take my role as “strong female role model” very seriously. I’ve had some feisty, formidable women in my life to learn from and now, joining derby, I have an entire league of them to teach me how to apply my mad skills. All I hope for, is that I can be as revolutionary of an example to my lovely battalion of future badasses.
Early in the week, my sixth niece, (first biological one!) joined the ranks…albeit in a rather traumatic fashion. We weren’t quite ready for her arrival yet, but her poor mama’s body just couldn’t keep going with high blood pressure, so now we have a teeny tiny, 3.3lb baby girl. (Everyone is fine!) It kills me that I’ve chosen to live 400 miles from all the action. I’ve not yet been able to meet little Eden in person, but I’ve fallen madly in love with her over her photos, and she’s already proving to be a scrapper.
With all of this emotion and sentimentality flailing about, I’ve decided it’s about time to actually organize a list of important things that I should be teaching my girls…things that only the quirkiest of aunts could teach. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far…
AUNT BIONIKATE’S GUIDE TO BECOMING AN ORNERY, STALWART LADY BADASS:
an ongoing list of odd, yet useful life lessons for the benefit of Sienna, Kaitlyn, Sophie, Olivia, Rosalie, and Eden.
1. Girls, derby is the most incredible sport in human history…some of you may beg to differ, but you’d be wrong. There is no other league of people with such a wide variety of ages and backgrounds, who will love and support you as fiercely as a derby league will. And you won’t find any other sport that allows you to play well past your supposed prime. I may be exaggerating my points a bit, but the thing is, your aunt has found something that she is blatantly, boldly passionate about. There is nothing more marvelous in life, than when you find something you unabashedly love and feel absolutely meant for.
2. I attempted a little derby move that happened to cause my leg to break apart in 4 places. It was painful, and recovery sucks…a lot. I have people from every direction scolding me for doing something dangerous and encouraging me to quit. You don’t quit…you never, ever quit. If you break apart while doing something you love that much, then that break was definitely worth it. You recover, and you go right back to doing it again. These little crap moments strengthen your heart, give you street cred, and inspire weaker people to forge on.
3. When you are in your teens, you will develop all of these insane emotions that you won’t know how to deal with. You will get mean, over-excited about things, you’ll cry a whole bunch, squeal at random moments, and be a bit of an awkward ball of limbs and teeth (don’t worry, you’ll grow into them!). During this volatile time, you really need to listen to your aunt when she says “JUST SAY NO TO JUSTIN BIEBER!!!!” For some odd reason, that smooshed up puppy face is hypnotic to young teen girls. But I will let you in on the secret…he is a demonic robot alien sent here to feed on your developing soul. Or really, he’s just kind of a disgusting turd of a human and the bottom line is, if you start obsessing over the Bieb, I will no longer buy you Christmas presents.
4. I am going to leave it to your mothers to explain the reasons behind this one…but this is one of the most importantly objective pieces of advice that I can give you. Always, always, always carry at least two tampons with you at all times. Do not leave the house without two tampons…ever. One for your stupid friend that wasn’t prepared, and the back up one for yourself. Really, I don’t care if you ever listen to anything I say ever again, as long as you heed this advice.
5. You’ll likely come to a time in your life when you think that getting a tattoo is a good idea. I say, yes, they are a good idea and a beautiful form of self-expression…but only if carefully planned. Make them mean something to you and put your heart into it. No passing pop-culture references, and no butterflies hovering over your butt crack…you will deeply regret both, and I sure won’t be helping you with the cost of laser removal.
6. Be single and live on your own for, at the very least, one year in your 20s. You’ll really never know exactly who you are, or what you can accomplish unless you are all you have to answer to. (Get a cat though…they are decent company without alot of bother.)
7. You are not complete with a significant other, you are complemented by a significant other. Make them a welcome gift into your life, not the entire purpose of living.
8. On a Saturday morning, when you go to watch cartoons with your favorite bowl of Cap’n Crunch…just say no to that second bowl…no matter how good they taste. Your mouth will be torn up by that point and coated in sugar film and nothing will taste right for the rest of the day.
9. And on those lines…eat some damn fiber!! Cap’n Crunch doesn’t have enough fiber to make a mouse poop…so you’re better off sticking to some oatmeal. You must know how important this is, as I’ve previously written and entire post on it. If poop excellence is mastered early, you’ll save yourself innumerable moments of discomfort that would have otherwise interrupted some great adventures. Do you really expect to walk around Disney World all day long and continue having a magical time, when your intestines are all knotted up?
10. Someday, when you’re in a bar with your friends and a guy wearing pleated khakis offers you a Coors Light and the privilege of his company…please laugh in his face and demand loudly that he march back to the bar and buy your entire table something micro brewed on tap and upon his return, request that he leaves. Lady badasses do not drink cheap bottled beer likely roofied by a 38-year old former frat boy, and they definitely do not give respect to arrogant assholes who don’t know enough to buy flat-fronted pants. Just sayin’. You’re allowed to be a bitch when morons and beer are involved.
To be continued….
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