I may not have energy for creative writing right now, but I do have energy for non-fiction, which was actually my specialty in college. I’m not going to promise any schedule or series, if there will be one or forty. But, if the inspiration strikes, I do have many amusing short stories from my real life that I’ve meant for a long time to write down.<\/p>\n
This one in particular is from 1999, and my first tangible memory ever. Usually someone’s first memory is a mildly amusing but confusing, like being told about someone else’s dream. It just doesn’t hold the same oomph to the people listening as it did the person living it, and really only people who are in the story are interested.<\/p>\n
“I’m in the living room, Sesame Street is playing, I have a block in my mouth and I’ve just noticed I have free will.” Good, but just doesn’t fill up a story like something later in life might. That snippet is actually my third or forth memory.
\n
\nMy first is far, far more entertaining.<\/p>\n
It is 1999, likely November. My mom is very, very pregnant with my baby brother; Peter. I am one year and ten months old. I am standing in some dusty basement with both of my parents, likely a church event, although being less than two makes the details of exactly what event too vague to make out.<\/p>\n
I am wearing tights, which I despise, the seam rides up under my toes in my teeny tiny mary janes and brings me immeasurable rage. My skirt does not swish as much as I would like, I like fabrics that swish, not denim, denim is boring. The floor is slippery and I am experimenting with sliding my shoes on the linoleum. The room is cold, but I would still rather not have a long-sleeved shirt on under my dress, I don’t like things on my wrists.<\/p>\n
A man walks up to us. He is tall; everyone is tall compared to me. I instantly don’t like him; he is using a exaggerated voice when he greets me, and my parents seem not to like him either. He is talking a lot, they are not engaging much. I am distracted by slipping my shoes across the floor back and forth until he leans down to smile at me, talking to me directly. “You’re not even going to remember this, are you, little lady?”\u00a0 Rude, how does he know what I’m going to remember? He is talking a lot about the ‘nineties’, and how I’m not going to be old enough to remember these ‘nineties’ at all, I am offended, my parents are laughing and agreeing.<\/p>\n
I don’t understand every word he’s saying, but he keeps talking to me and I get the gist. “This is an important time. You’re barely going to be a part of it. Silly toddler doesn’t know what’s happening or how important it is.”<\/p>\n
I decide he is going to be wrong, I am going to remember this so good, this stupid man doesn’t know what he is talking about. The nineties are important, and ending. I am almost two. I do not like this man, and I do not like being underestimated. He holds out his hand to my dad and shakes it. I imitate the motion, holding out my hand for him to shake. He seems delighted, and shakes my hand too, but what he does not know is I am proving him wrong as we speak, silly man.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I may not have energy for creative writing right now, but I do have energy for non-fiction, which was actually my specialty in college. I’m not going to promise any schedule or series, if there will be one or forty. But, if the inspiration strikes, I do have many amusing short stories from my real […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[618],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-58414","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-epilogue"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58414","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/9"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=58414"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58414\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":58420,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58414\/revisions\/58420"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=58414"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=58414"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shamusyoung.com\/twentysidedtale\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=58414"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}