I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Kept My Fucking Cool

Now THAT'S a cool penguin

Do you even appreciate how fucking laid back I've been about dating you? I let you do your thing with your retarded asshole friends without giving you shit about it even though it's Saturday night and I was fucking hoping that we'd go out to dinner or some shit. I was all like, "Have fun with your buddies!" because I'm a fucking good sport and I'm totally fucking keeping my cool.

Listen up, you little fuckhead: I've been so low-key about our budding romance that I haven't even told my own fucking mother about it. She doesn't know that you fucking exist! I've only told two friends about you and I just mentioned you all casual and shit: "Oh, I've been hanging out with this new dude. He's rad." THAT'S IT! THAT'S ALL I'VE TOLD THEM BECAUSE I'M NOT MAKING A BIG FUCKING DEAL OUT OF DATING YOU.

I haven't even pictured what it'd be like if we got married or what we'd name our fucking kids. I've only Googled your name once and I just read the first two matches; THAT'S HOW FUCKING LAID BACK I'VE BEEN, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!

I only think about you roughly once every four hours and I didn't freak out that one time that you didn't call me when you said that you fucking would. I figured you were just busy at work or some shit, so I shrugged and didn't fucking bring it up the next time we fucking talked. I'M KEEPING AS COOL AS A PENGUIN'S NUTSACK WHEN IT USES A BLOCK OF ICE AS A SIT 'N' SPIN AND YOU DON'T EVEN APPRECIATE IT!

AHHHHHHHHHH!

I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Kept My Fucking Cool

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Told You That I Liked Heavy Metal

heavy metal kitty is into heavy metal

Him: "Basically, I'm really into heavy metal."

Me: "Really? Me too. I love heavy metal." *bats eyelashes*

Him: "Cool, cool." *exhales deeply and takes a sip of beer*

I am wearing a dress and high heels and I just told you that I like heavy metal. WHY IS YOUR MIND NOT BLOWN BY THIS? Look around! What other woman is gonna think that talking shop about Slayer's "Reign in Blood" is a turn-on? I'm probably the only girl in here that wouldn't laugh in your face when you disclose your heavy metal affinity and this is the thanks I get? I didn't realize that meeting rad people of the opposite sex into your esoteric music scene was a bore for you. I see.

I wanna put you in a headlock, knock on your dome, and shout, "Anybody home, McFly?" into your ear. You've basically won the "meeting a girl who likes heavy metal" lotto at this stupid party and all you did was shrug and look around the room.

Your disinterest stuns me. I'm stunned. I'm gonna tell the Internet.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Told You That I Liked Heavy Metal

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Semi-Obscure Karaoke Song Choices

I'll admit, it's not like I nailed R.E.M's "It's The End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine), but I still think it's pretty cool that I gave Glenn Danzing a run for his money with my flawless rendition of "Last Caress." I didn't even look at the monitor once!

When I high-fived you afterwards, you seemed confused like you didn't even know what you'd just heard or witnessed. Here's a clue: you just saw a girl singing one of the best songs ever and you clearly weren't impressed.

I don't even think you know who the Misfits are (which is a turn-off), because when I announced that'd I'd sing the song you shrugged. HELLO! You are on a date with the coolest girl in this whole wide room and I don't even think you properly appreciated it.

When I followed up with Roxy Music's "Love is the Drug," you seemed unimpressed as well. Clearly my karaoke song choices are too obscure for your tastes.

This is probably how American Idol contestants feel when they try and shake shit up by choosing a Killers song to sing. Fuck it. I should've just stuck to "Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)." That probably would've been better for all involved.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Semi-Obscure Karaoke Song Choices

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Spinal Tap Jokes

I must've been misinformed because I was under the impression that guys love girls who love Spinal Tap. And, I thought the fact that I memorized roughly two-thirds of Spinal Tap's dialogue would one day sweep a man off of his feet.

I had a bit of a Cinderella scenario in my head; I'd mutter something about how "mime is money," and he'd take my hand and march me down to the jewelry store to buy our wedding rings. 

It has not turned out that way. At all.  

• "Shark sandwich? Two words: Shit sandwich."
• "None more black."
• Turning things up to 11
• Deli meat freakouts backstage
• Tiny Stonehenge
• "Talk about mudflaps, my girl's got 'em."

No wrinkle of a smile? No knowing nod? No immediate declaration of love at my display of Spinal Tap savvy? Nothing!

SOMEONE LIED TO ME! If I can't land a man based on my ability to recite lines from a rockumentary spoof made over twenty years ago, then there is no god. *shakes fist at the sky*

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Spinal Tap Jokes

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My CD Collection

I really have to do something about this CD shelf.

Every time I bring a date back to my place, we get to that awkward tour of my room, where inevitably her eyes are drawn to this ridiculous IKEA monstrosity that holds every single CD I've ever purchased since 1990. It's like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but instead of emitting high-pitched shrieks to catapult species to the next evolutionary stage, it houses dustbin classics of yore.

Now, look; maybe you've been a super cool kid since 1990, but I can tell you with complete confidence that I was not. And now that you're in my room, I have the CDs to prove it.

Of course, your eyes breeze right past the Hot Chip and Catherine Wheel CDs and my extensive Ryan Adams and Bjork collections. Nope, instead you zero right in on the most embarrassing stuff.

"Wow! You sure do have a lot of Barenaked Ladies albums."

I'm usually pretty good about keeping things organized and orderly in my life. I have no problem throwing away all kinds of old stuff, but the idea of throwing away or selling an old CD just seems to be sacrilege. Sure, I haven't listened to the sweet dulcet tones of "If I Had A Million Dollars" in about ten years. But, that's beside the point! What if I randomly decide I need to hear that song?! There was a time in my life where I wore khaki cargo shorts and had blonde highlights and thought that song was amazing. I feel that in throwing away the CD, I'd be throwing away a little part of my musical biography, as awkward of a chapter as it may have been.

So yeah, you're basically face-to-face with my dark, lame musical past.

I suppose in the meantime, I could pretend my entire CD wall is an art project. I could title it, "Ode To A Dying Musical Format" and then maybe I'd impress you.

In the meantime, though, my CD collection isn't quite doing the trick.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My CD Collection

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Ordered Such A Fantastic Dinner For Us

Goddamn, I FUCKING ROCKED at ordering this dinner for us. First, I suggested we get some MUTHERFUCKING spring rolls. Fuck you, these were FUCKING PERFECT because there were two in an order so we each got one. YUM TO THE MAX, FUCKHEAD!

HOLY SHIT I rocked it again when I ordered a plate of Mee Siam noodles for us to split because they were SO FUCKING GOOD! I wanted to GRAB YOU BY THE LAPELS AND KICK YOU IN THE DICK BECAUSE THEY WERE SO FUCKING TASTY. And, that vegetable curry should've BLOWN YOUR FUCKING MIND, it was so fucking fantastic. IN YOUR FACE, EMPTY PLATES, BECAUSE YOU'RE MOTHERFUCKING EMPTY. BOO-YAH!

Then, when I suggested that we get some fancy gelato around the corner you should've FLIPPED YOUR SHIT because that was the perfect counterbalance to a such a SPICY FUCKIN' MEAL, you SHIT STAIN.

But, you didn't even seem to notice you FUCKING FUCK. Good luck finding someone who can expertly order a meal for two the way that I just did. I AM THE MUTHERFUCKING WORLD FUCKING CHAMPION OF FOOD SUGGESTIONS! AAAAAARGH!!!!!

*rips shirt off and flexes muscles*

I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Ordered Such A Fantastic Dinner For Us

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Cute Texts Because You Interpreted Them As Stalking

I already have trouble initiating phone contact with boys I like, but every now and then I'll feel a rush of confidence and send my homeboy some flirty texts. So, it's doubly troubling when my efforts are misconstrued. I think the problem is that you thought I was being supercreepy when I was just trying to be sweet.

For instance, I thought I was being cute when I texted you, "I'm right outside your office." I was running around doing errands downtown! I thought I'd let you know I was close to you in case you wanted to give me a smooch on your lunch break. It was innocent!

Or, the time I texted, "I'm counting the minutes until I see you again." Again, I was trying to be cute! I wasn't seriously counting the clock. That's crazy!

I think the final straw was when I texted, "I can't stop thinking about you. When can I see you again?" I WAS BEING FLIRTY! I was trying to show signals of interest to encourage you. So, when you told me that I was starting to freak you out, I was stunned. 

Now, looking back over my outbox, I see how I came off as stalker-ish. I regret that. I clearly need to hire someone to handle all of my communications with men for the rest of my life.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Cute Texts Because You Interpreted Them As Stalking

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Wrote An Article For Your Favorite Magazine

In college, I had this weird quirk where I made it my personal mission to publish an article in my crush's favorite magazine. Instead of leaving a stuffed bunny head on his stove, I figured I'd weasel my way into his thoughts with my writing. It was like sprinkling an elaborate, printed love potion on him that ultimately proved ineffective.

I spent a lot of time envisioning the moment when he'd open up the latest issue, get psyched to see a piece on his favorite band then see MY NAME in the byline. I imagined him doing a double take and bringing the magazine up to his face, studying it and realizing that, yes, I was now writing for his number #1 rag. What expression would he wear? Would it be disbelief? Would it be envy? Would it be cartoon-shaped hearts that bulged from his eyes? Of course it'd be the cartoon-shaped hearts bulging from his eyes, right?

Next, I figured he'd march straight to his phone and call me up, enamored by my accomplishment. Then, he would tell me how I was the coolest girl he'd ever met and how he just had to have me. Over the course of my college career, I published articles in an armful of different magazines all in an effort to snag the objects of my affection. Punk Planet, Thrasher, Paper, even a tattoo magazine called Hardcore Ink; I wrote for all of them. It was an elaborate ruse to send a message to my intended targets that involved publicists, editors, and bands, all unaware to my true motives.

And, you know what? Nothing happened. Maybe they'd email me to say, "Wow! I saw your article. Cool." That's it? No profession of love? No cathartic moment when he'd realize that I was his true love? Honestly, I feel like my article on Hot Water Music in Heckler had failed to impress him at all. On any level. Apparently, being a music writer is not a turn-on for you. I see.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Wrote An Article For Your Favorite Magazine

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Jokey Dance Moves

Honestly, I don't know what overcame me. I'd love to blame this on the four High Lifes I downed because I was nervous being on our first date. Maybe it was because I still act like a sixth-grader in most social situations, but we both know that those are just excuses. I'm gonna have to take full responsibility for this one.*deep breath*

I thought my perfect execution of both the Cabbage Patch and the Roger Rabbit would impress you on some level. I got carried away with everything! We had a great dinner. We were at an awesome dance party, working up a bit of a sweat in on the dance floor. I think the smoke machine had just heaved a heavy fog onto the crowd. So, when the deejay spun "Informer" by Snow, something clicked in my head and I had the blurry thought, "Wait 'til he gets a load of this."

Well, you got a whole steaming load of "this" i.e. my dance moves and you were clearly not impressed. You shielding your eyes and looking the other way tipped me off. When I whipped my head around after doing a perfect Running Man and saw you making a beeline for the door, the message was clearly received. I copy that, Roger. My jokey dance moves clearly did not impress you.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Jokey Dance Moves

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I Feel I Failed to Impress You With This Mix CD

I don't think I'm alone in that I prescribe wholeheartedly to the Rob Gordon school of mixtape creation. As far as I can tell, it's one of the last real mating rituals of the modern age. The song selection has been painstakingly labored over for a period of several days. Once I'm happy with that, then I trim the fat to make sure the whole thing fits comfortably onto one compact disc.

Finally, the programming. Oh, the programming. I listen to the songs repeatedly to discern what song will transition into the next in the most appropriate way. Matching theme, key, intros to outros; it can take a while. And once it's completed, I've got to listen to it in its entirety at least once to make sure I didn't miss anything important. I'm not claiming I hit the bullseye every single time, but damn if I didn't try.

Once the CD is completed, it's time to make the cover. After a few attempts, I'm reasonably happy with what I've come up with. There are enough allusions to both of us, so you'll know every time you listen to it that I made it with you specifically in mind. "This is sure to win you over," I think confidently to myself. Finally, after much finessing, I'm done. I present it to you with my chest puffed out with pride because I'm sure you'll take one look at my highly personalized gift and go weak in the knees.

You'll flash me a polite smile and say "Thanks!" with all the enthusiasm you can muster as you unceremoniously toss it into the backseat of your car. Apparently, I have miscalculated the gravity of this gesture.

I Feel I Failed to Impress You With This Mix CD

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Joined A Fan Club For Your Favorite Liquor Brand

I signed up online to be an ambassador to Maker's Mark, your favorite whiskey brand. I honestly thought that this would impress you that I'm not just a casual fan, but a devoted fan club member with my own fan club card and everything. As such, I now have my name carved on a barrel of Maker's Mark whiskey somewhere and I have a certificate to prove it. See?

I guess some part of my reptile brain thought it might impress you that I had limited-edition Maker's Mark swag strategically placed around my apartment for you to find. "Is that a Maker's Mark hand towel?" you'd (hopefully) ask.

After I pushed my glasses up my nose, I'd casually affirm, "Why, yes. Yes it is." I pictured your eyes growing wide with excitement that you finally found a girl to share your love of this whiskey brand with. We'd embrace and then, I don't know, drink some of it by a fireplace? I clearly didn't think this fantasy through. 

Unfortunately, that scenario never happened. I can say that you honestly did not care about my fake Maker's Mark devotion. It did not impress you by any stretch of the imagination. Whatever. Truthfully, I'm a Jameson girl anyway.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You When I Joined A Fan Club For Your Favorite Liquor Brand

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I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Esoteric Star Trek TNG Joke

"So, I said to him, 'Who do you think that I am, Q?' It was too funny. Maybe you had to be there. Wait, why are you looking at me like that? Q! You know, that wily trickster guy from Star Trek: The Next Generation. The one who's always pulling Picard's pigtails. He's an omnipotent being and always arguing about how lame humans are. He's homies with the Borg. No? Nothing? You have no idea who I'm talking about, do you?"

YOU SAID YOU LIKED NERDY GIRLS! What nerd is worth his nerd salt if he doesn't know who Q is? Sorry I didn't go for the obvious Geordi La Forge joke. That guy wears a banana clip for shades. Lame, right? *nervous laughter*

Honestly, I thought my esoteric Star Trek knowledge would impress you. I now see that I have failed to do that.

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My Esoteric Star Trek TNG Joke

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