Well, hello, dearie, welcome to the show. There’re no cameras… I thought this was a blog interview.
Well, we’re off to a great start. Why don’t you introduce yourself? Suzette Abramotta. Pleased to make your acquaintance.
So that would make your dad… Artie Abrams, yes.
And your momma…? Sugar Abrams, formerly Sugar Motta.
Formerly… Sugar Pierce-Lopez. Oh, I know.
Your last name’s really Abramotta? Legally, no. Mom was under the distinct impression that our family surname was that for quite a while. He had to disavow her of the notion once I started school. Both Dad and I are Abrams in law and practice. Mom is in law, but in practice, it’s Abrams, Motta-Abrams, or Abramotta, depending on her mood. Which changes a lot.
Suzette? You’ve gotten off easier than some of Sugar’s other children. They all had food names. I take it you don’t know what this is:
A crêpe? It’s a crêpe Suzette.
So, what brings you to 2013? The funny thing is I actually went back to 2007. You see I was going through a bit of an awkward phase, which started when I was about… 9. And now that I’m 22, I’m almost 30% through it! Which means at 16, I wasn’t doing too great. So, anyway, I kind of got this “crush” on my choir teacher, which warped into obsessive love, so I got him this tie so he would think of me.
As you can guess, I got rebuffed, and was hideously embarrassed, so the only logical thing to do was to drop out of school and beg Mom to let me use her time machine to go to the past. She of course agreed immediately, because she’s Mom, and because she’s Mom, she didn’t tell Dad. I went back to 2007 and enrolled at my folks’ old alma mater, McKinley High.
Where the exact same thing happened again with my parents’ choir coach.
You’re Suzy Pepper. Indeed.
As you can see, I wanted to reinvent myself with a little spice. (In the 2030’s, this is quite post-retro-hipster chic.) Anyway, I of course had to return to my present because esophagus transplants didn’t exist in 2007; luckily they bioengineer them in 2034. I changed school, went to counseling, got put on medication for my ROCD, and now everything’s great. You know, relatively.
Yes, I did make a trip back 2009 because I kind of accidentally stopped Rachel Berry from being a famous Broadway star—Haven’t we all done something similar?—but I fixed it.
Can we back up for one second. Is your dad jumping in that picture? I figured you’d want to hear that story.
Let’s start from the beginning. My parents may have met, and even dated in high school, but it wasn’t until New York that things really started to happen. Mom went back to her present after my granny went to MIT (since it meant she wasn’t going to get pregnant by Sam and was eventually going to get back together with my abuela, and eventually have my mom). Mom loved going back and visiting New York because her Mamá was there, and as it turned out so was my dad, in film school. Long story short, they kinda fell in love all over again, and there was an… accident: me.
Awww. That’s the reaction Mom loves to hear. Fast-forward five years. My parents are married and living in Los Angeles with little me. My dad’s moving up in Hollywood; my mom’s successful doing high-profile event planning. Meanwhile, she’s kept her ear to the ground about paralysis treatments. Lo and behold, one pops up. Bear in mind, this is still the early 2020s. There aren’t any flying cars, or robot maids, or cybernetic legs. This is super experimental, bleeding edge, trial-stage treatment.
Anyway, Dad’s a perfect candidate for it: total paraplegia due to lower lumbar trauma. (I don’t want you to think Mom’s finances got him the trial; his condition did; he basically had little to lose, so he went through with it.)
“What is ‘it’?” you might ask? It’s an eight-hour surgery, followed by weeks of excruciating pain during recovery, and finally an entire year of physical therapy just to give you the mobility of a two-year-old to start out with. Dad has an eighteen-inch scar half an inch thick down his back. He still uses—at minimum—a cane to walk, and a lot of the time, he can’t go without a walker.
That jump he’s doing in the picture? It meant he had to spend the next twelve hours in bed. Oh, and by the way, that picture’s from my parents’ belated five-year anniversary trip, because my dad had spent the last two either in recovery from his surgery or bedridden from a grueling physical therapy session.
Sounds awful. It was. Remember, this was when I was four. Both my parents had to put their jobs on hold for over a year to go through with this. My dad had both a day nurse and a night nurse, but it still meant my mom having to be available 24/7 on top of taking care of me. I had an nanny, but I still needed parents.
In case you didn’t think my mom sacrificed enough, she also typically visits her parents back in the future every couple of months, but she forgot… forwent? …her visits the entire time. For Future Granny and Abuelita, it wasn’t a big deal, because once Dad was stable here, she could just set her destination to a few months after her last visit. But for Mom, she was suddenly separated from her second home for almost a year and a half.
Wow, was it worth it? I can’t imagine it wasn’t difficult, but they obviously got through it just fine, because they are just as happy together today as they were twenty years ago. I’ve met the other kids, and it baffles me when they think their version of my mom is spacey or self-centered, because mine may be just as eccentric, but she’s the most devoted wife and mother I know. As for my dad, I can’t make sense of the depressed or disconnected cynic I hear about, because my dad is genuinely happy and dedicated to his family.
So what’s next for you? I just graduated from U.C.L.A. with a degree in Biology. After a gap year, I’m going to go to medical school. Between my esophagus, my OCD, and my dad’s back, I’ve kind of been turned on to medicine. I’m thinking Neurology.
Usually I ask my subjects about crushes, but I guess it’s a sore subject. A little, yeah. I’m not as bad as I was before. I mean, I’m still a social trainwreck, but I’ve learned to deal with it. As for my love life, it’s pretty empty to say the least. But… I’m optimistic.
Well, I must say, I think I’ve enjoyed this interview most of all. I think I won’t be telling Mom that.
Much obliged. (sigh) I do love her.
Original Idea: televisionamist
Image Credits: torie-rph, rivrgrons, ilikepineapplesdealwithit