FLAWED

Beach Bruises and Steven Madden.

Sunday November 30th

Post #13

When Jeff Abraham and his filming crew arrived at twelve to set up in my living room, Adam and my dad had already taken off to the gym. Afraid my dad would pull out a gun on Jeff and his people, my mom insisted Adam get my dad out of the house.

"Are you nervous?" Jeff asked.  When I pictured how Jeff Abraham looked in person, I saw a man with hair on the sides of his head and nothing in the middle. But the man standing before me had a full head of hair and was probably in his mid thirties.

"Eh, I'm more worried I'll start ranting." I confessed.

"Don't worry, ranting is good!"

Once my mom agreed to the let the crew move her perfectly adjusted sofas out of the way, the interview finally began. I didn't realize how nervous I was until I heard my voice trembling during a few practice questions.

"Just breathe", I constantly told myself. I've always clamped up when it came to me having to perform or speak in front of a group of people. But sitting down with a camera angled in my direction as well as one angled in Jeff's, I had to remind myself that my "audience" was just my mom and the camera crew.

"Did you expect your post to become do big?" Jeff had introduced me adding a little overview of my paper then jumped write into the questions.

"To be honest, this "post" was literally a paper I wrote for my English class. After reading it, my teacher came to me and said he wanted my paper to feature on the school's website. I didn't even know my paper was surfing the internet until a few days ago." I don't know a lot about interviews, but I wasn't going lie just to sound interesting.

"So you must still be in shock about the whole thing. Now obviously, your paper has gotten a lot of attention but it's also opened the door to discussion about some the things you mentioned." He went on to talk about the kinds of feedback I was getting. "The majority of people who've read your post seem to agree with you, but there were also people who feel like you don't know what you're talking about." He said.

"Well I'm not going to feed into that and get caught up in petty disagreements. But I will say that my age and amount of knowledge has nothing to do with my argument and point being clear or not. I feel like I've gone through enough experiences in life to be able to say there's more important things in life than a Versace dress. But I'm not going to try to convince anyone to think what I say is important. If you don't believe me, that's your problem."

"After gaining so much respect and praise for your written words, would you consider writing more about things you feel strongly about?"

"I appreciate the unnecessary praise my paper has gotten, but I don't think blogging is something I'd like to do." I really don't want to have to juggle this password protected blog, and a public one. And I'm definitely not going to make this blog public because the things I write about are my own personal experiences.

Once the stupidest thing I've ever agreed to do was finally over, after helping my mom set the sofas the way she likes them, I jetted upstairs to get out of dress I wore for the interview. Jessie told my mom we'd be going someplace warm so I didn't hesitate to grab pair of light blue shorts, biker boots, and a red and white flannel.

When Ad"Don't tell me you have another interview?" Adam said. He was annoyed by the woman who flocked at my dad at the gym.

"Nope, Jessie and I are going somewhere."

While I waited for Jesse to get to my house my dad put together another bag he calls "Plan B". He tossed in two cans of pepper spray, a pocket knife, a one hundred dollar bill, a map of his "safe houses", a flashlight, batteries, a bottle of water, and a disposable phone. He makes Adam and my mom keep one in the trunks of their cars.