I’m always wary of someone who is way too eager to talk about his summer internship. He’s kind of like the guy who seems cool when you meet him, but then you hear that he was a nerd in high school. What is this guy hiding? Obviously, his classmates in high school knew something about him that made him uncool. Fraud.

That didn’t prove my point at all, but still — there is no greater sign for a lack of talent, originality, creativity, character or pectoral strength than someone who waits for you to look impressed when he tells you where he worked over the summer.

But you know who’s actually worse than this guy? The one who tries to act nonchalant about how awesome his job is. He kind of rolls his eyes when he says where he works. “Yeah man, just been working a lot. [Pause as he waits for you to ask him where.] Oh, Teen Vogue … marketing. No, the one in New York. L.C. works at the one in L.A.”

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Anyways, here are some more thoughts I’ve been holding inside over the summer:

• When I make it big, I’m going to have a secretary buzz my minions into my office. I’ll make sure that my chair is turned out towards the window so that I am looking out into the distance as my employee comes to sit in front of my desk. I’ll begin my speech by saying something along the lines of “The ancient people of [some foreign land] had the practice that when a person committed a crime against the tribe, they would behead him. (Then the dramatic turn of the chair to face the nervous employee.) You’re not going to screw me, now … are you?”

• During my internship, we had this speaker series where someone important in the company would give a talk to all of the interns. Many of the interns would bring a pad and pen to these series. There was no other point of writing down what the speaker was saying other than to make sure that he saw them writing. I remember seeing a girl writing in her notebook after the speaker said, “Always be on time.” Hmmm, I can’t remember if I’m supposed to be on time or if I should be late. Let me check my notes … Oh, I’m supposed to be on time. Good thing I wrote all of this complicated stuff down.

• One of the guys in the office gave me a hard time when I told him where I’m from. This is how the conversation went down:

“Where in Houston do you live?”

“River Oaks.”

“Man, life must have been pretty hard for you growing up, huh?”

“Yeah … it was pretty hard deciding what Ivy League school to go to.”

[My editor, Olivia, wanted me to point out that River Oaks is one of the nicer areas of Houston so that you know I was being sarcastic.]

• I’ve always wanted to become the best at a sport, get caught in a cheating scandal that disgraces my teammates’ and my own name and then flee to a far off land where I’ll grow a beard and try to mix in with the local people. After 20 years of solitude, the son of my ex-teammate will come asking for my help in the same sport. He’ll want to go after the championship that both his father and I were disqualified from because of my cheating. Then, I’ll be able to say the words, “That was a long time ago … that guy is dead now.”

• I got really excited when I was writing the last post because of how original I thought it was. I then realized I was just ripping off Cool Runnings.

• When are we ever going to get a columnist to write about the relationship status feature on Facebook?

• Speaking of Facebook, you know what it needs more of? Party pictures. Everyone needs to take their cameras out with them so that they can take a hundred pictures which are slight variations on their group of the same 10 people. And in all of these pictures, people need to wrap their arms around each other with the girls giving slight tilts of their head to try to look sexy. We desperately need more of these pictures.

• I’ve seen a lot of couples holding hands on campus — an act I’ve never really understood. It’s like these people are trying to will themselves to stay together. If I make a comment about it, someone will usually say that I’m just jealous. But then I say, “No — they’re ugly.”

I think my editor Olivia said it best when we were at her formal last spring. “Drew, it’s my formal … you kind of have to dance with me.”

Andrew Webb is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at amw68@cornell.edu. Confessions of a Mental Patient will appear alternate Mondays this semester.