image creds: this Reddit post
This is all in jest. You probably know a ton about me, but I’ve found another excuse to put the focus on me. I followed a random thought, chaos ensued, and this was born.
It’s all very unhinged, so excuse me. Behold, proof that not everything released into the blogosphere is professional and sensible.
I Meet Me from an Alternate Universe
(or something like that)
B: Hello there, Miss. [shakes interviewee’s hand] It’s a pleasure to interview you today.
Me: Thanks for the invite. What’s this for again? [sits at the chair; chains lock around wrists] Hey, wait a second—
B: I’ll ask you a series of questions you’ll need to answer honestly. If you don’t, a shock will electrocute you by my pressing this. [holds up a button and then points at chains with pen] Those chains push your wrists against a lie detector on the armrests, so choose carefully.
Me: [sigh] Of all the things to happen on a Thursday morning.
B: Now, for the first: How old are you?
Me: Why do you wanna know? Ow!
B: Questioning the questions also gets the shock.
Me: Couldn’t you have told me that before we started?!
B: Yes.
Me: Ow, stop that!
B: Answer.
Me: Somewhere between ten and twenty!
B: What’s your credit card number?
Me: Ha, ha. Nice try. I’m broke and a minor. What do you want from me?
B: Describe your your regular appearance.
Me: That’s not a question.
B: Darn it. [shuffles through cards] What’s your last name?
Me: That’s actually not much of a mystery. Do a little sleuthing and you’ll find it. [braces for shock] Oh, you didn’t press it.
B: Sadly, we didn’t account for those types of deviations.
Me: [laughs in interviewer’s face] Ha!
B: Your breath stinks. What’s your favorite food?
Me: It’s this sour Filipino soup called “sinigang.” My discord name has that word in it.
B: Care to share that discord user?
Me: Nah.
B: What grade are you?
Me: A grade level high enough to know 1 + 1 = 3 and that people who offer you free candy in exchange for a ride are the few good people on earth.
B: And that’s how you got here.
Me: And that’s how I got here, correct.
B: What was the candy?
Me: It was better: a McDonalds sundae cone.
B: I would’ve got into the van, too.
Me: As you should.
B: Let’s talk about the content you release onto your blog. Why do you say you have social anxiety when you’ve repeatedly emphasized being an extrovert? Isn’t that self-contradictory?
Me: Oof, let’s not get into my extrovertedness. I remember writing publicly about not knowing my proper MBTI, and it led to a rabbit hole into things I don’t want to remember. For now, yes, I am an extrovert because I find joy in interacting with people, but that doesn’t free me from social anxiety—what humans face when we worry about how others perceive us. It doesn’t really matter your personality. Everyone goes through that.
B: But why do you write?
Me: I haven’t the faintest clue. I saw this quote about being unable to resist giving in to a story inside of you demanding to be told, and since I don’t know who said it, let’s pretend I thought of that.
B: So you admit you plagiarize.
Me: It was a joke!
B: Are you as much a blabbermouth as you portray yourself as?
Me: First of all, that isn’t very nice. Second of all, absolutely.
B: Do you talk this weirdly in real life?
Me: Yes, sadly. I’m more formal here than in text since I’m paying attention to punctuation and word choice, but to an extent, yes. If only I’d been spared the face-to-face misunderstandings.
B: What’s a fun fact about yourself?
Me: Dying young has always been a dream of mine.
B: What’s your biggest regret?
Me: Accepting that darn sundae cone. I should’ve asked for water, too. I am parched.
B: How old are you really?
Me: We’re doing this again?
B: [lifts shock button]
Me: Kidding! Ha, I was—that wasn’t a question. That was a statement with interrogative intonation. Ignore that. I can confirm that I’m above 13 years and below 18. But no more hints.
B: Have you ever lied to your readers?
Me: Yes. No. Unintentionally. Maybe, but I don’t recall. It would be great if I got my own life wrong, though. That’d make for one laughable autobiography.
B: Where do you live?
Me: I think I’ve said this before. In the population of 118,770,782 people in the Philippines, I am one of them. That’s if minors are counted, which I am. You’ve kidnapped a minor, missy.
B: Let’s see . . . [looks through cards] Your oddest TV or celebrity crush?
Me: Barney.
B: Oh, gosh. That is concerning.
Me: He confessed to me once. He told me, “I love you, you love me.”
B: I don’t think you’re okay.
Me: [tries prying chains open with her teeth]
B: [glances around the room for nearest exits] Ignoring that, er, how? [flips card] It just says how.
Me: Sometimes you can’t help it, and other times you’ve got to convince yourself first. But as long as you can, do.
B: [silence]
Me: [stares]
B: All right. Uh. How about something less personal? What’s your favorite subject?
Me: Economics. Knowing if the economy is crashing and burning is good. Knowing how it’s deteriorating and when to clutch your pearls close is much better. I’m not knowledgeable enough about it to be aware of that, but it’s fun to pretend.
B: Who’s your favorite author?
Me: That’s tough. I’ll say N/A for now, but check this out:
I didn’t even ask for the compliment, but she hit me with it when my immune system was down, so I got all giddy. I had to confirm if she was kidding because of the joking tone tag (/j). She meant it at the time—an accomplishment enough.
Then she took it back months later. 🥲
B: Is being the middle child as bad as the media portrays it?
Me: No, but as with any child with siblings, it had lows. That reminds me: I was learning about the Law of Cosines in Algebra and realized side “b” only comes first in 1/3 equations while side “a” snags that spot for itself 2/3 of the time. Dismissing that “c” doesn’t get a chance, gosh, side “b”‘s got it tough, doesn’t it? Literally the second choice.
And then it dawned on me that from my sisterly trio, I’m point B. My sister’s names and mine are also in alphabetical order.
B: What is a reasonable starting price for a kidnapping ransom?
Me: What?
B: What?
Me: It might be me, but that sounds awfully personal.
B: It’s just you.
Me: Fair enough.
B: [stands] Enough of these shenanigans. [grabs and lifts chair to knock Me out]
Unfortunately, I am still alive.
I kid. I totally kid. What’s something you want people to know about you that you haven’t had the opportunity to brag about? I can’t be the only one, right?
A Christian Kid's Journal 