What Exactly Was I Talking About?

I hate when you are in a situation where you are talking to someone and you are in the middle of a story that tells you that it is absolutely ridiculous and not remote How close the sound is in my head. Now you know what I am talking about, we were all there.

Most often involves the person I am trying to impress. I'm not sure if I'm upset around them or something ... it will usually look like a knob. A few years ago, I happened to catch Harry Connick Jr. at my favorite concert. After the concert he was signing the sign and I was rehearsing in my head what to say to him. When it was time to talk to him, my well-trained story looked like this:

"Um, you ... I love your way ... you know ... play the key, your finger ... do you know?" He just Give me a polite and confused half smile and sign my poster and I wonder what happened.

I happened to have my fiance last weekend. Good friends came out on the night of the festival I was feeling. I was left to protect myself with a woman at some point in the night and I felt a little panic moment. Not because they are difficult to get along with. On the contrary, both of them were so wonderful that some of me felt intimidating. We were all talking about the weather with the kids. There are two solid fire topics that are hard to get confused. I was able to say something to the song

“Oh, yes, kids like to do that” or “I know! I can't believe how sunny it was last week!”

These are two short and secure comments that can be made during the conversation process. But unfortunately, I was trying to sensor myself and say wisely important things, so that thought never passed my head. Things have been going well for a while, so I had a pleasant conversation when I decided to open the notch and show off my wit and charisma.

Bad idea.

I really don't even remember what it was that I was saying it was all blurry. The only important thing was that the alarm started to sound in my head.

"Hurry up!" When I saw a little mess on the girls' faces, a little voice always told me. Instead, somehow kept trying to turn things around, but it continued to get worse little by little. By the end of the story, I stared at the floor and felt my face turning red and red. “Now ... that was a success” when a room entered an unpleasant silence, a small voice in me said.

At some point in the near future, "What is God's name talking about?" Hopefully I stop worrying about trying to make a mature, witty, or clever sound, and myself It becomes. And if I'm a ridiculous person who is struggling to express his ideas clearly, that's fine.