I always seem to write in the deep of the night. It’s becoming a ritual, I think.
Anyways, I was watching something the other day, and it made me think of first impressions. Or meeting someone for the first time.
I’m never good in that. I always seem to do something disastrous or goofy.
I used to remember back when I used to be in this Children’s Summer Camp at church. I, along with my other friends, were part of this very big group of children from other churches. The counselors would, of course, assign us to our cabins, and what-not. One of my roommates was one of those girls that always look clean, pretty, and somewhat snobbish. I always seem to have a fascination with them back then, curious to find what they are like, or how they act around adventurous, reckless, dirty me.
One night, we started doing ghost stories. I, being a nervous one, have a knack of doing foolish things: laugh hysterically or make offhand jokes at anything this girl said. I daresay I made a bad impression that night. We never became friends at all. She turned out to be snobbish as I had first thought, and hung out with the other prissy girls.
It’s always seemed to me that it happens everytime I meet new people that I want to like as a close friend or even a friend. My heart would start pounding, my hands would get clammy, and I would fidget to no end. It feels like I am standing in the middle of a stage…naked in front of everyone. *sigh*
Sometimes it comes out good, and sometimes bad (like the one I just mentioned), and I wouldn’t know how to fix it. It’s just my nature, I guess.
But you know, when I don’t think about making an impression, it always turns out good. No mishaps, no hysterical laughter, no nothing.
Hm. Maybe we got something going there.