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I Am Cool Now Posts

Captain’s Log: Day 2

Published February 14, 2011 by Editor in Chief

I’m concerned about mental deterioration, as the crew is starting to have self-contained conversations. For example, I heard the following:

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. I didn’t get you anything.  Did you get me anything? Let’s not exchange gifts. Let’s not celebrate Valentine’s day. That sounds good. You’re okay with that, right? Okay good.”

I was foremost concerned with the crew’s cognitive well-being. What could have inspired such gibberish? Was he aware of what he was saying? Did he know I could hear what he was saying? Why did he not wait for a response? I was puzzled by this recent behavior. Such lunacy could only be attributed to mind-altering drugs and sleep-deprivation. I was sure of it.

“Are you okay?” I asked casually. Usually I wouldn’t use such informal diction for my people, but this was an emergency.

“Yeah, I’m just overwhelmed with work. There are so many things on my plate,” he sincerely responded.

“Ah.” So this Valentine’s Day, to prove that even the strictest captains have a heart, I’m giving the crew a pass.

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Captain’s Log: Day 1

Published February 12, 2011 by Editor in Chief

Our condo, which shall henceforth be known as “the vessel,” is in complete disarray.  It has occurred to me that I need to train David, who shall henceforth be known as “the crew,” in a strategic manner.

This thought first occurred to me, as most great thoughts do, while I was sitting on the latrine. I looked around, and I counted four empty toilet paper rolls. The crew’s clothes were scattered about, and the sink was so dirty that washing my hands became an exercise in dexterity, making sure the only part of the sink my body touched was the faucet.  Furious, I began to clean the sink. “CREW!” I yelled out, in vain while scrubbing the sink. The crew, sensing disappointment from leadership, perhaps knew to feign deafness.

Upon completing a cursory sink cleaning, I walked over to the cafeteria, which land-folk refer to as “the kitchen.” Dirty dishes were everywhere, some with food stuck to the plates and silverware. “CREW!” I yelled out again. This time I added context, “What did I tell you about the dishes?! What the heck!?” Overwhelmed with the complexity of the question, the crew responded, “Um…”

“I’m so mad at you,” I stated.

“I’m sorry,” the crew responded, sincerely.

I sighed. Perhaps it is my fault. From this day forth, strategic training begins.

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If you have a parrot, and you don't teach it to say, "Help! They've turned me into a parrot," you are wasting everybody's time.

Published January 25, 2011 by Editor in Chief

-Reddit. October 1, 2010

Blog, I hope you enjoyed the quotation from the title of this post, because I’m about to share some really upsetting news with you.

Today, I received an email from my good friend, JCrew. JCrew and I go back several years, and I’ve come to trust JCrew to provide me with many things a good friend would, such as chic coats, fun t-shirts, and fashion tips so that I may continue to maintain my self-proclaimed reputation as a fashion forward professional.

The email contained the following Subject line:
Currently craving: the Blythe blouse

With such a subject line, it’s needless to say, but necessary to type, that I was intrigued. “The Blythe blouse?!” I thought to myself, “And it’s being craved. By whom? ME. I am already craving the blouse. Let’s see it.”

I opened the email to find this:

I’ll give you a moment to look at this picture, as I did.

Are you done? Have you taken it in?

Are you as outraged as I am?

“JCrew is playing me for a fool!” I muttered to myself. The shirt is hideous. It’s so ugly, you can’t even tell the model wearing it is attractive.

How offensive. So offensive, in fact, it warranted a blog post. Be indignant with me, blog, that JCrew would attempt to pitch me such a shirt. Hmph.

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A Gift for David?

Published December 8, 2010 by Editor in Chief

David I love your short curly hair
But holiday season just isn’t fair
I’m troubled thinking of a gift for you
What can I buy to show my love is true?

At the bookstore, there was a comic, saw you eye it.
I told you quickly, “Today, you must not buy it,”
You thought that was fine, you agreed you would wait,
And two days later, I saw you’d bought eight!

Then at the Mac store, you liked that Mac mini thing
And I thought, “Yay! For holidays, one of those I’ll bring,”
Then in the apartment, I noticed there was already one
“Yeah,” you shrugged, “I was seeing what Mac had now done.”

I frantically twirl my thumbs, I rack my brain,
Gift buying for you is driving me insane.
Shall it be a meal at a restaurant, somewhere we eat
Or shall it be some clothing, something unique?

Maybe dance lessons, a gift probably more for me,
Or some dessert wine, but you can’t drink with Brie
Perhaps a montage of photos from this year
Or a singing telegram who gives a stuffed reindeer.

I want to get you something thoughtful and cool
That will make you think, “My fiancee’s no fool.”
But what will it be? I have no idea quite yet
Let’s hope it’s a good purchase, not something you regret.

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David and Football

Published October 19, 2010 by Editor in Chief

David I love your short curly hair
And for football you so very much care
I sit there and ask, “Can we go for a walk?”
“Wait what?! Football is on!” I hear you balk.

“But the weather’s so nice,” I pout and I beg.
But you will not move, not a single leg.
You set up your multiple football screens
In spite of my nagging, glares and pleas.

“I’ll take a walk at half-time,” you compromise
But you’re not interested, I quickly surmise.
And I’m crushed – it seems you love me so little
To football apparently I play second fiddle.

But that’s okay, I’m an adult and I’m stable
And I’ll use today to lobby for a new coffee table
And I’ll get my way in future discussions on decor
Because you’ll have to prove that you love me more.

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David’s Shirt

Published September 13, 2010 by Editor in Chief

David I love your big curly hair.
And that grey flannel shirt, you love to wear,
It’s your ugliest shirt, by very far.
But you insist on wearing it, it’s so bizarre.

I say to you, “Hmm, you’re wearing this shirt.”
You reply, “All the others, are full of dirt.
It’s my only clean shirt, today I must wear it,”
“No!” I reply, “I cannot bear it!”

“David this shirt does not flatter your figure,”
“Dear God,” you reply, “Am I getting bigger?!”
“No, no, it’s not that,” I stammer and stutter,
“It’s…it’s just a weird shirt,” I poorly sputter.

“Well I like it, there’s nothing you can do,”
And as I write this post I know it’s true.
That ugly shirt – it’s here to stay.
It’ll probably grow old with us; you’ll wear it each day.

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An Ode to David

Published August 20, 2010 by Editor in Chief

David I love your big, curly hair.
I love how when you’re annoyed, you glare.
You throw your arms up, you say “How can this be?
Why must you always dilly – dally?”

Then you tilt your head to the side and give me a smile,
And you don’t seem to mind I’ve taken a while.
You say, “Okay let’s just go,” as you rush towards the door –
“Wait!” I reply, “Can I have five minutes more?!”

“What are you doing?!” You yell, surprised every time!
I respond, “Putting on make-up, so I look sublime!”
Then you sigh, and say, “Fine, just hurry, we have go.”
David, we’re not all naturally pretty like you, you know.

When we walk out the door, I ask, “Are you really mad?”
And you reply, “No, this isn’t that bad.”
“Plus I knew you were going to be late,
So I told you 7:30, but the reservation’s for 8.”

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More Email Correspondences

Published August 5, 2010 by Editor in Chief

I received this note today:

Thank you for your quick response. Please note that all three of you will be required to come to closing to sign the documents so please make sure Laurie can be here as well.

Let me know what Laurie says as soon as possible.

Thank you.

I responded* with this note:

You’re welcome. Laurie may not be able to make it, as she is traveling. Will it be alright if we bring someone who resembles her?

Let me know as soon as possible.

Thank you.

*I didn’t, but I really wanted to!

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A Modern Cyrano De Bergerac

Published August 5, 2010 by Editor in Chief

In an effort to use my powers for good, I’ve been helping my lonely friend Connor* write letters to prospective partners on match.com. It hadn’t been going well until a few days ago, when he finally received a response! “Excellent!” I thought to myself, “A woman who appreciates fine writing.”

They went on their first date, and presumably things went pretty well.

This is where the story takes a turn for the worse. When Connor asked this woman for a follow-up date, she responded in a cool manner:

Connor,
I already have plans this weekend.
Thanks,
Heather

Being no stranger to the game hard-to-get, I knew what Connor had to do. He had to send a follow up email to demonstrate that he was interested. Here is what I recommended he write:

My Dearest Heather,

Crestfallen and distraught are the only words that can describe my feelings right now as I read and reread your ambivalent response. I can only presume you have plans this weekend because you did not feel the fiery connection I felt during our Tuesday rendezvous. Had you felt the same way I had, you would have no doubt canceled everything in hopes that we could spend all of our free time in the coming days, weeks, months, and years together.

Why have you forsaken me? Was it what I was wearing? I will burn that outfit. I thought I was a perfect gentleman: I walked on the outside, I politely looked away when you drooled a little on your napkin, and I did not make advances that may make my lady blush. If you feel that was not the case, please do me the honor of giving me a second chance. How does your schedule look next week?

Connor

Connor reviewed the email, but decided it was not the best approach to winning her over.

*Names changed. I randomly selected a name to place here. It was completely random.

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