I know many of my female readers are eagerly waiting for Sophia to give me the final boot, so you could grab me as your own personal boy toy. Let me temper that enthusiasm with some reality. One of Sophia’s biggest complaints about me is that I can be a real nag. I have an open mind about most things, but when an action rubs me the wrong way, I get all moralistic and can’t keep my mouth shut. There are some things that I just HATE — like when someone uses an old “Handicapped Parking Card” to park more easily at the mall, or when anyone litters in public. I can go on for hours about how one napkin thrown on the ground can make a Native American stand by the freeway and cry.

I blame the New York public school system for making me into a nag. The teachers were the biggest nags on Earth. Even though “global warming” hadn’t hit it big yet, pollution was on every teacher’s agenda. They made us celebrate “Earth Day.” I don’t remember much geometry, but I do remember my social studies teacher forcing us to write to the Japanese Prime Minister to tell him to stop killing whales. Being a frequent “Citizen of the Month” at school, I ate this stuff up. I was going to change the world, even as a third grader. I scolded my mother about choosing unsafe for dolphins tuna fish. I warned my mother about the freon in the refrigerator. I still nag today about the “trans-fats” in the “low-fat” cookies she eats, which she thinks are healthy. She nags me. I nag her. That’s why we get along so well.

No one likes a nag, but nagging can be an effective tool in getting someone to change their ways (although it hasn’t been very successful with Sophia).

Maybe I need to talk about my nagging when I go to therapy. Who wants a man that nags? Why can’t I just leave people alone to make their own mistakes? I hate when people are annoying to me, asking me why I have an SUV or criticize me for my poor recycling of bottles.

When I was younger, my mother was a social smoker. She hardly smoked at all — maybe one or two cigarettes on the weekend with friends. I was so brainwashed by my anti-smoking teachers that I just nagged her into quitting. I was like Bart Simpson repeating a sentence over and over again until Homer gives in.

“Mom, you know those cigarettes can kill you? Right? Right? And if we breath it in with you, you are killing us, too. Right, right?”

I don’t think my mother touched a cigarette ever again once I got through with her.

I’m actually astounded that so many people still smoke after all these years of bad press and being ostracized by the general public. In LA, you can’t even smoke on the beach!

Every once in a while, I read about one of you smoking a cigarette, usually on the weekend in a bar. I try hard to restrain myself from lecturing you. I don’t want to come off as a humorless prig. My image is that of fun and exciting, not moralistic and dull. And after all, it is your life. But, you do realize, that the second-hand smoke goes into the blogosphere and affects us all? Right? Right?

Sarah from “Sad and Beautiful World” is almost done with her 365 Project on Flickr. She has done amazing work and you should check out her photos.

Here is a photo of Sarah and her husband Pete. How cute they are! But –

I’m not going to say anything.

(is there anyone else I need to publicly nag?)

Hi, there.  This is going to be a short post because I’m writing this on the laptop while I’m driving across country.  I took off on Friday to start my road trip.  I’m not sure what this says about the morality of American women, but it is almost TOO easy to accomplish my goal of 50 women, 50 States.

My first stop from California was in Nevada, where I met Jennifer watching the Bellagio “water” show with her girlfriends.  She was in Vegas for her bachelorette party and she was very eager to go for one last fling, especially when she heard my name and recognized it from all those “Best Blogs of the Blogosphere” lists. 

“I’d love to be the first lay on your Road Trip!” she announced.

The sex was amazing.  Her fiancee from back home, Dr. Anderson Traub of Wilmington, Delaware, is one lucky guy, that is if she still does this sort of stuff once she gets married.   After a couple of rounds of intense lovemaking, I gave her some advice about her upcoming wedding. 

“Always remember –” I told her, “that you and Anderson should enjoy the event as much as the guests.  The wedding is for you!”

The best of luck to both of them!   Mazel tov!  

Recently, I had a discussion with Dagny about whether it is appropriate or not to mention the ethnicity of someone in a post.  In Sedona, Arizona, I had an interesting experience.    Does it really matter that Carla was a black woman?  Probably not, but since it was my first experience bedding an African-American, I feel that this information is relevant.   But even more importantly, I certainly think it is essential for you to know that Carla is a massage therapist and KEGELS instructor!   That certainly mattered a lot more in bed than her skin color!  When they say there is a “spiritual vibe” in the red rocks of Sedona, I now know what they are talking about!  I certainly felt my chakras rising!

In Salt Lake City, I took some time out for a little tourism.   The Mormon Temple is beautiful.  And the members of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir truly have voices like angels!  I really appreciated being taken around the church grounds by my lovely tour guide, Sarah.  After sitting through a few videos about her religion, she was more than willing to go out with me for some ice cream (she doesn’t drink and Salt Lake City has a lot of great ice cream making up for the lack of bars).   As we enjoyed the sweets, I told her about my Road Trip, and she was so excited about participating  Utah rocks!  She was a lot of fun and a great conversationalist.  Ironically — I thought this was amusing — the only sex position she doesn’t like is… the missionary one.

Despite the good times, I’m feeling a little down.  I’m having some doubts about the whole enterprise.  Once I accomplish it all, will there be anything to show for it?   Will this be the biggest accomplishment of my life?  Will I be like Gary Coleman or Todd Bridges, always looking back to the one sitcom they were in, knowing they never could achieve the same greatness?

And — I hate to bring up this mushy stuff — but what about love?  Romance?  Sure, there is something intriguing about bedding 50 women in 50 states?  But isn’t there something a little superficial about the idea?  I can see maybe going to Hawaii and having sex with some lonely busineswoman for the night, but ALL 50 States?  Is this what our Founding Fathers really had in mind with the concept of ONE country, indivisible?

Where does love come into play with all this?  Wouldn’t it be better to turn back, go into therapy, and try to make a REAL relationship work?

“No!  Do not turn back!” said a German-sounding voice.

“Who is this?”

“This is Doctor Sigmund Freud, talking to you from the beyond!  You must continue on with your quest!”

“Sigmund Freud my ass.  That is the worst attempt at an accent EVAH, Penis.”

“You can’t turn back now.  You’re doing so well!”  said my Penis.  “The last three days have been terrific!  This is the best trip we ever went on together!”

“What about the time we went to Cooperstown with my parents?”

“You’re a moron, Neilochka.   We couldn’t even masturbate that weekend because you were afraid of the parents walking in.”

“What about all the cool baseball stuff we saw at the museum.  And remember that female docent? That was the first time I  saw a woman not wearing a bra.”

“That’s right!  And she kept on talking about Joe Dimaggio’s big bat!   Boner-time   Ha Ha.   We were so immature back then!”

“That was a long long time ago.”

“Her name was Tracey.” said my Penis.

“The docent from Cooperstown?  You remember her name, Penis?”

“Not only that!  I googled her name and found out she now lives in Austin, Texas.”

“Why did you do that?

“Because we’re turning this car around and going to Texas to find Tracey.  Ride ‘em, Cowgirl!”

“This woman must be like sixty years old by now?”

“So? I don’t see any problem with that!”

Dear Reader:  Please help me!  Should I listen to my Penis and continue onto Texas

or

should I turn back like a rational person, find a good therapist, and focus on a real relationship?

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:   The Sidewalk of Love