Fic: All Her Mother's Fault
Oct. 23rd, 2006 04:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77Title: The Story of Alice as Told in 30 Parts: Part 3 - All Her Mother's Fault
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Prompt: 29. Role models at30_memoirs
Summary: It was time to put the blame where it belonged. Everything was her mother's fault.
A/N: Written in honour of my mother for my birthday because, without her, it wouldn't really have happened. Initial beta byyodels but I've changed massive amounts so any problems/errors are my own.
Once, a long time ago, Alice heard that 'your memory skills peak at the age of twenty-five'. That worried Alice as she'd never been very good at remembering things. Whether it was an important appointment or a vacation, she forgot them all.
When she was in college (the first time, not the following two), her forgetfulness had resulted in three pairs of sunglasses on her head while she searched her bag for her last spare pair. One of her classmates, thankfully not the cute guy sitting two seats over and one up from her, pointed out that she had her sunglasses on her head. The blush spread from head to toe when she realized all her sunglasses were on her head.
Alice wanted to shuck the blame off onto someone else. It was her mother's fault that she was so forgetful. She had never needed to remember anything because her mother had always remembered for her.
Like that time in Girl Scouts and they'd had a Halloween party, Alice had forgotten about it until fifteen minutes before they were to leave for the party. When she told her mother, her mother glared, rolled her eyes and demanded that Alice get the large box from the corner of the room.
Within ten minutes, Alice had a costume, the most horrible, awful, embarrassing costume of her life. She cursed her mother, her birthday, Halloween itself and her forgetfulness. The cups and plates and festive tablecloth left over from her birthday the week before all were glued strategically onto the cardboard. With a hole cut in the center of it and suspenders added, Alice became her own birthday party for a costume. Balloons tied into her hair finished off the bane of that Halloween.
The entire car ride, Alice pondered how to ruin her costume but the only thing making her feel alright with the situation was that her little sister, Ellen, had fared worse. Ellen was currently glaring at the bundle of purple balloons sitting next to her, just waiting to be pinned to the leotard and tights she was wearing. Ellen, poor Ellen, was going to be a bundle of grapes*.
As parents giggled and cooed over the creative costumes, Alice and Ellen wanted to sit down, desperately. They wanted to be able to reach the table of snacks without banging into it and spilling the punch. They really, desperately, wanted to pee.
Getting into their minivan, the little blue baby shoe looking monstrosity that it was, Puff the Magic Dragon cranking from the stereo system, Alice and Ellen swore they'd never forget to tell their mother about another Halloween party ever again.
Instead, as their school years passed, Alice forgot about Valentine's Day and thanked her mother for remembering to bake cupcakes and buy candy and little paper valentines. She forgot about birthday parties and always found a wrapped package waiting for her to take to a friend's house. She forgot about papers and homework projects and her mother helped her finish them last minute.
That Alice forgot and then rushed at the last minute to finish a project was all her mother's fault. That she was able to make something out of nothing, to look around a room and assemble the bibs and bobs into something creative, it was all her mother's fault. That she was able to think for herself, to see the beauty in what others would consider scraps, she blamed her mother.
Beyond the forgetfulness, Alice's mother was the reason for so many other idiosyncrasies in her life. Alice believed in gender equality and it was all her mother's fault. If her mother hadn't dressed her up as a football player as a four-year-old, if she hadn't insisted that Alice be treated the same as the boys in her classes, Alice might not be so voracious in her insistence on gender equality.
If her mother hadn't been so forceful about it, Alice might not be so voracious in her insistence on equality for all, whether it was for something silly and insignificant as a grade on a paper for a classmate she didn't know very well or better pay for a co-worker who did more than realized.
If only her mother hadn't quoted from First They Came…, a poem by Martin Niemöller, then Alice might not be so politically active. She might not have shivered and watched her toes turn purple at candlelight vigils protesting the inequal application of the death penalty, merit-less wars and false speech. Even though her mother might not agree with her, the blame for Alice's involvement lay with her mother.
Alice blamed her mother for her most fervent wish - that she could be half the woman her mother was.
*- I've been told my memory is faulty on this. Supposedly, they were multi-coloured and multi-shaped balloons. However, I really really remember these balloons as a dark purple and "Ellen" as a bundle of grapes so I'm searching for pictures to prove or disprove my memory.
Author:
wook77Rating: G
Warnings: none
Prompt: 29. Role models at
30_memoirsSummary: It was time to put the blame where it belonged. Everything was her mother's fault.
A/N: Written in honour of my mother for my birthday because, without her, it wouldn't really have happened. Initial beta by
yodels but I've changed massive amounts so any problems/errors are my own.Once, a long time ago, Alice heard that 'your memory skills peak at the age of twenty-five'. That worried Alice as she'd never been very good at remembering things. Whether it was an important appointment or a vacation, she forgot them all.
When she was in college (the first time, not the following two), her forgetfulness had resulted in three pairs of sunglasses on her head while she searched her bag for her last spare pair. One of her classmates, thankfully not the cute guy sitting two seats over and one up from her, pointed out that she had her sunglasses on her head. The blush spread from head to toe when she realized all her sunglasses were on her head.
Alice wanted to shuck the blame off onto someone else. It was her mother's fault that she was so forgetful. She had never needed to remember anything because her mother had always remembered for her.
Like that time in Girl Scouts and they'd had a Halloween party, Alice had forgotten about it until fifteen minutes before they were to leave for the party. When she told her mother, her mother glared, rolled her eyes and demanded that Alice get the large box from the corner of the room.
Within ten minutes, Alice had a costume, the most horrible, awful, embarrassing costume of her life. She cursed her mother, her birthday, Halloween itself and her forgetfulness. The cups and plates and festive tablecloth left over from her birthday the week before all were glued strategically onto the cardboard. With a hole cut in the center of it and suspenders added, Alice became her own birthday party for a costume. Balloons tied into her hair finished off the bane of that Halloween.
The entire car ride, Alice pondered how to ruin her costume but the only thing making her feel alright with the situation was that her little sister, Ellen, had fared worse. Ellen was currently glaring at the bundle of purple balloons sitting next to her, just waiting to be pinned to the leotard and tights she was wearing. Ellen, poor Ellen, was going to be a bundle of grapes*.
As parents giggled and cooed over the creative costumes, Alice and Ellen wanted to sit down, desperately. They wanted to be able to reach the table of snacks without banging into it and spilling the punch. They really, desperately, wanted to pee.
Getting into their minivan, the little blue baby shoe looking monstrosity that it was, Puff the Magic Dragon cranking from the stereo system, Alice and Ellen swore they'd never forget to tell their mother about another Halloween party ever again.
Instead, as their school years passed, Alice forgot about Valentine's Day and thanked her mother for remembering to bake cupcakes and buy candy and little paper valentines. She forgot about birthday parties and always found a wrapped package waiting for her to take to a friend's house. She forgot about papers and homework projects and her mother helped her finish them last minute.
That Alice forgot and then rushed at the last minute to finish a project was all her mother's fault. That she was able to make something out of nothing, to look around a room and assemble the bibs and bobs into something creative, it was all her mother's fault. That she was able to think for herself, to see the beauty in what others would consider scraps, she blamed her mother.
Beyond the forgetfulness, Alice's mother was the reason for so many other idiosyncrasies in her life. Alice believed in gender equality and it was all her mother's fault. If her mother hadn't dressed her up as a football player as a four-year-old, if she hadn't insisted that Alice be treated the same as the boys in her classes, Alice might not be so voracious in her insistence on gender equality.
If her mother hadn't been so forceful about it, Alice might not be so voracious in her insistence on equality for all, whether it was for something silly and insignificant as a grade on a paper for a classmate she didn't know very well or better pay for a co-worker who did more than realized.
If only her mother hadn't quoted from First They Came…, a poem by Martin Niemöller, then Alice might not be so politically active. She might not have shivered and watched her toes turn purple at candlelight vigils protesting the inequal application of the death penalty, merit-less wars and false speech. Even though her mother might not agree with her, the blame for Alice's involvement lay with her mother.
Alice blamed her mother for her most fervent wish - that she could be half the woman her mother was.
*- I've been told my memory is faulty on this. Supposedly, they were multi-coloured and multi-shaped balloons. However, I really really remember these balloons as a dark purple and "Ellen" as a bundle of grapes so I'm searching for pictures to prove or disprove my memory.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-23 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-23 11:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-23 11:54 pm (UTC)Happy birthday, dear wookee! :D
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 05:53 am (UTC)The story with the sunglasses? Totally true, I ended up with three pair and didn't feel them at all. To this day, I'll randomly tap my head to see if I have a pair up there and, sure enough, there they are. I had a job interview with them up there once. It was very hard to act casual as I pulled them off my head.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 09:18 pm (UTC)well-coordinated, interview-y outfit...check
professional, mature hairstyle...check
attentiveness and good attitude...check
sunglasses perched on top of head...oops
(Although, scrambling around like a headless chicken searching for glasses that were on my face doesn't leave much room for mockery from this end.)
Did you get my e-mail? (For your birthday, probably more suited to Halloween)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 09:21 pm (UTC)*hits post button. Once.*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-26 12:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-25 04:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-26 12:15 am (UTC)