Category: Life in General (Page 26 of 46)

You Can’t Spell Happiness without Penis

February 21, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 31 Comments

There’s an old showbiz adage — “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.” Look how easy it was for me yesterday to write about being miserable. All I had to do was throw some Leonard Cohen or Beck lyrics up on the screen and everyone is crying a river.

But comedy requires work.

Today, I received an email from someone in the PR department of Conde Nast. I don’t know her, but just from her name, I visualize her as extremely attractive, single, ambitious, brunette, Jewish, with knowing eyes — someone like Sophia, but who’s not kicking me out.

Anyway, back to reality. This lovely PR person wrote to me wondering if I was interested in writing a post about an article in their current Details magazine. The article is very creatively titled “Is Being Well Hung the Key to Happiness?” She titled her email “Hung = Happiness.” The Economist this magazine is not.

Here’s the opening of the article:

Is Being Well Hung the Key to Happiness?
Some guys never seem to worry. The reason for that is probably in their pants.

Things were not looking good for Josh (not his real name). He had lost all the money he’d made as a day trader. To make matters worse, his longtime girlfriend walked out on him, taking all the furniture and whatever else she could carry. By any measure, it was rock bottom. But when Josh’s friends mobilized the rescue crew, they were astounded: Josh appeared to be totally unfazed.

“He didn’t care!” says Josh’s best friend, Steve (not his real name), a 35-year-old hedge-fund manager who worked with him on Wall Street. “He shrugged it off. It would have killed a lesser man.” But Steve knew his friend’s nonchalance wasn’t due to some elaborate form of self-hypnosis or handfuls of Wellbutrin. Josh owed his composure to something far simpler: nine inches of the most primal form of self-assurance known to man.

“If it weren’t for his cock, he’d be a hobo riding the trains around the country,” Steve says. “It’s opened doors for him. Rich women put him up at their apartments. We have friends who have more money than him and are more successful than him, but they all say, ‘I want to come back as this guy.’ Secretly, we all want to be him.”

Clearly the PR department of Conde Nast did their research and knew exactly who on the blogosphere who be interested in this new “scientific” research. (I can’t believe the hoity-toity Huffington Post wrote about this important scientific discovery too!) It really didn’t matter that I had never opened a copy of Details magazine in my life.

At first, I had no interest in writing about this post. After all, the PR department sent it to me because they WANT me to write about it, and as Sophia would love to tell you, I’m passive-aggressive. Therapy has changed me, and as proof of that, I’m actually going to go against the grain and agree to help out this lovely and good-willed woman from Conde Nast.

But, here’s my dilemma. I want to say something funny about the article, but I’m stuck between two vastly different comedic “gags.” This is what makes comedy so difficult. Follow along as I mull over my options. Consider this a “Master’s Class” in Comedy.

Gag #1 —

“Happiness = Hung? I think the scientists at Details Magazine better go back into the lab. I think my sleeping in the car last week being miserable clearly refutes their findings!”

Now, I’m the first one to admit that this joke is a dud. However, it serves a vital purpose. Think about the context of the joke. What important piece of real-life information am I subtly adding to the joke? Here’s another hint — soon I may be re-joining the dating pool. Have you figured it out yet? Can you see why I might want to let this less-than-stellar joke remain?

Imagine, mommybloggers across North America, emailing and twittering each other this afternoon, “Did you read Neilochka’s blog today? It wasn’t very funny, but tell me if I’m wrong — in the subtext of the joke, wasn’t he insinuating that he is… well… uh… well… really…well…?

Gag #2 —

“Happiness = Hung? I see! Now I understand why I was miserable sleeping in the car that night!”

That is a much funnier punchline. It is a double whammy. I end up sleeping in the car and blaming it on my own… shortcomings. Of course, it also sends a message out to the world that may end up hurting me in a few months when I make my first appearance at BlogHer.

Imagine, I’m waiting on line to get my BlogHer badge, one of the few men amidst hundreds of horny housewives.

Mommyblogger #1 (not her real name): Â “Isn’t that Neilochka? He’s even better looking in person. And so tall!”

Mommyblogger #2:Â “Uh, yeah. But did you ever read that post he wrote in February about Details Magazine…”

Mommyblogger #1: Â “No, send me the link.”

Mommyblogger #2: Â “You NEED to read it. It says so much about him. I’ll send you the link in tinyURL.”

Mommyblogger #1:Â “Huh? Why in tinyURL?”

Mommyblogger #2:Â “Read his post. Then you’ll understand.”

Clearly, you can see the dilemma I have here. Go with the joke that has the subliminal message that drives women crazy or go fo the funnier line that doesn’t get me laid at BlogHer. This is exactly why comedy is underappreciated. Funny movies never win the Oscars or any serious awards. I don’t mean artsy-funny movies like Juno. I mean the crap that I’m going to write. But they really should. Men expose their souls through comedy!

My Penis just hit me on the leg.

Neil’s Penis:Â “What the f**king kind of post is this, Neilochka?Â Are your cracking up over this Sophia thing?Â Stop moping around and be happy!Â Remember Bobby what’s his face’s song– Don’t worry, be happy!”

Neil: Â “And what should I be happy about? Â I think soon I’m going to be moving out of the house… again!”

My Penis clears his throat, reminding me about that dumb Happiness = Hung article in Details magazine.

Neil’s Penis:Â “You’re happy, right?”

Neil:Â “Oh, right… right… I’m happy…. very happy indeed.Â Don’t worry about me anymore, Mom.Â Everything is great.Â I’m happy.”

Neil’s Penis:Â “Exactly! Woo-hoo!Â Nothing can get us down!”

Neil:Â “Thank you, Dad, for your excellent genes!”

Neil’s Penis:Â “That’s right.Â You can learn something about PR from Conde Nast.Â Self-promotion is important.Â Party!Â Party!Â Happy! Happy!Â Joy!Â Joy!”

Neil and Neil’s Penis: (singing together) “We are Family…!”

Thank you Conde Nast and Details Magazine for reminding me that I have so much to be happy about!

Sideshow

February 19, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 97 Comments

Ever since I was a teenager, I listened to music when I was feeling down.Â Remember my obsession with ABBA a few months ago?Â Â Sometimes, I’m in the mood for some hard rock to lift me out of the doldrums, and sometimes I just look for the most depressing song possible in order to feel MORE miserable.Â Once you hit bottom, you can laugh, and start your way up the ladder again.

Do any of you have any really depressing songs that you just LOVE?Â Songs about broken hearts, suicides, and cars going off the edges of mountains?Â

For my money, this old song (Blue Magic’s Side Show (1974)) is one of the saddest love songs I’ve ever heard.Â It also makes me think about how we post about our lives on blogs for others to read — like a sideshow.Â Â Read the downer lyrics!Â Â

Hurry, hurry, step right up
See the side show in town for only fifty cents

Step right up hurry, hurry, before the show begins, my friends
Stand in line, get your ticket, I hope you will attend
It’ll only cost you fifty cents to see
What life has done to those like you and me

See the man with the broken heart, you’ll see that he is sad, he hurts so bad (so bad, so bad)
See the girl who has lost the only love she ever had
There’s got to be no sadder show to see
No doubt about it, satisfaction’s guaranteed

So let the sideshow begin
Hurry, hurry, step right up on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Let the sideshow begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

See the man who’s been cryin’ for a million years, so many tears (so many tears)
See the girl who’s collected broken hearts for souvenirs
It’s more exciting than a one man band
The saddest little show in all the land

So let the side show begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right up on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Let the sideshow begin
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

So let the sideshow begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Fortunately, after I listened to the song a few times, it made me laugh hysterically.Â Who the hell sits down and writes such a depressing song?!Â

Remember to vote for me for “The Best Humor Blog” in the Blogger Awards!

The Last Few Days

February 18, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 93 Comments

Valentine’s Day has always been tough for us.Â Â The pressure of Valentineâ€™s Day, with all the hullabaloo and candy-giving, makes us question our already unsteady relationship.Â How can we ever live up to the romantic images on those Hallmark cards?Â

Sophia and I got into a fight on the night before Valentineâ€™s Day.Â Â I went to find somewhere else to sleep.Â Â I felt uncomfortable calling up a friend, so IÂ drove to the nearest Holiday Inn to see if they had any availability.Â All the rooms were booked except for the â€œHoneymoon Suiteâ€ with a Jacuzzi for $250 dollars.Â See: Irony.Â I was too tired to keep on driving, so I went back home and parked my car in the driveway, exactly where I started.Â I went into the backseat, curled up, and decided to go to sleep, using my sweater as a pillow.Â I had always heard of people sleeping in their car.Â Hey, it was almost cool â€“ like I was in a rock band!Â Â Â IÂ was wokenÂ up a few hours later by the metallic sounds of a torrential rain storm pounding on the roof of the car.Â I felt like I was stuck in a car wash that had been taken over by HAL from 2001.Â It was noisy, the rain and wind shaking the car.Â I donâ€™t know how I did it, but I fell asleep again.

In the morning, I woke up.Â Have any of you ever opened your eyes in the morning and realized that youÂ were sleepingÂ in the back seat of your car?Â If you have, you will understand how I felt.Â I stumbled out of the car, my legs all stiff and asleep.Â Standing a few feet away was my next door neighbor, a well-dressed attorney in her business suit, heading for her Lexus.Â I stuck my head back into the car, moving my hands back and forth, making believe that she just caught me â€œcleaning out the back seatâ€ of the car.

â€œGood Morning, Lindsay,â€ I said.

â€œHello, Neil.â€ she said, sternly.Â

Iâ€™m not sure I fooled her â€“ at all.

I walked over to Starbucks, where I peed and washed my face, like a homeless man, feeling likeÂ Starbucks Inc.Â owed me for all those overpriced lattes.Â Â A few hours later, I headed to Beverly Hills for a meeting with a Hollywood producer!Â Â The meeting wentÂ well.Â Maybe he mistook the â€œfire in my eyesâ€ for my bloodshot look from sleeping in the car.

I’ve been in a hotel since then.Â Â

Why am I telling you all this?Â I probably shouldn’t be.Â I have all these new, wonderfulÂ people coming here to read interviews, so it is a bit uncomfortable airing my dirty laundry, but asÂ every blogger knows, a personal blog is about both the good and bad of life.Â We’ve all been there, and I am inspired by the openness of many of you.

IÂ love Sophia.Â Â We have some problems.Â Some of you have been reading about us for three years now.Â We both attend therapy, but are finding itÂ difficult to fix things.Â Maybe living together while “separated” is not the answer.

Who’s at fault here?Â Â Well,Â you would hear very different stories depending on who told the tale, but basically we are both responsible for our own marriage.Â

Today is Sophia’sÂ birthday.Â Â She’s probably upset.Â I hope I get to see her later, but if I don’t, I hope she does something fun to celebrate her special day.Â PleaseÂ wish Sophia a happy birthday.Â Sheâ€™s a big part of this blog and I know many of you care about her.Â Â

Happy birthday, Sophia.

Send a Kiss

February 10, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 47 Comments

With Valentine’s Day coming up, I’d like to talk about kissing.Â One of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned about life is this — women like kissing.Â Â I’m not a natural kisser.Â I’m have a feeling thatÂ most men are not born kissers.Â In my younger days, the kissing was just an excuse to set the clock into motion before my hands came out to feel the woman up.Â Â Who wants to be stuckÂ at “first base!”Â If you told your friends that you kissed a girl, you got a big yawn in return.Â But if you touched her BOOBIES — then you were a hero!Â Â Â Even now, at night, deep in sleep, when my mind is at the most open and aware, I rarely have a vivid dream about me KISSING a woman, if you get what I mean.Â Well, kissing may be involved, but it isn’t the main goal of the exercise, if you get what I mean.

Even after many years of marriage, I’m not the greatest kisser.Â Â Ask Sophia.Â Â This is very difficult for me to admit to the general public, but I think it is important to make other men feel comfortable with themselves and theirÂ less than stellarÂ kissing abilities.Â Â If I can admit it, so can you, Mr. Blogging Guy.Â Together we can learn to study and improve, and make our women happier.Â Â My biggest problem is that I’ve never perfected the whole kissing and breathing at the same time.Â After a bit, I need air.Â Maybe if I fix my deviated septum, then I can breathe better through my nose.Â It’s sad, really.Â I’ve tried to make up for my less-than stellar kissing in many ways, but it always comes back to the kissing.Â Is there a class at UCLA?Â I have a feeling that my admitting the truth about my kissing may lose me some important female readership, but I think it is important to keep this blog honest.Â

Blogging has only made the situation worse.Â I’ve IMed with many women, and have heard countless stories of how important a first kiss can be in making your decision to date someone.Â Some of you evenÂ REJECT a perfectly good man because of a mediocre peck on the cheek.Â You can apparently tell tons of information from the locking of lips:Â how good he will be in bed, his earning potential, his social security number, and even what your children will look like.

I have one single blogging friend who likes to tell me the intimate details of her dating life.Â She IMed me this morning, telling me about this amazing date she went on last night.Â

“I had two orgasms.” she said.

‘Wow.Â Did you stay over at his place?”

“No, this was outside the movie theater.”

“You had sex outside the movie theater?!”

“No, silly.Â We were kissing.”

“You had TWO orgasms by kissing him?!”

“He’s a really good KISSER!”

Jeez.Â Even my Penis was depressed hearing this news.Â He likes to believe that he is always the main attraction.

I do remember that, as a teenager, I practiced kissing by making out with my arm, sticking my tongueÂ into the pores and slobbering all over the elbows, until my ARM got fed up and threw me off, saying she’d had enough of my wimpy kisses.

Lucky, the digital age offers a new way to kiss a woman — and a place to live and learn.Â It is called Facebook.Â Over the past few days, I’ve been getting all sorts of messages that women want me to “Kiss Them.”Â And who I am to say no?Â So, this morning,Â I downloaded this “Send a Kiss” application, all ready to give some hot babes a few orgasms through my virtual kisses.

A few hours later, my bad kissing karma remains — even online.Â How the f**k do you use this application?Â Am I too old, or stupid?Â Am I supposed to be sending a kiss or asking for a kiss?Â Do I HAVE to send kisses to “twenty of my friends?”Â Â What is the difference between kissme, most kissed, kisslog, kiss fortune cookie, and kiss crushes?Â When did kissing become so complicated?

Maybe I need to first practice on my virtual arm.

Say Hello to Brenda, My Therapist

February 4, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 44 Comments

Hi, Brenda.Â Â If it is Tuesday afternoon, this means that we are just sitting down at your computer and looking at my blog together for the first time.Â Â This was the idea, right?Â That you, as my therapist, might better understand me by exploring the world of my writing online.Â

(Say hello to Brenda)

Subjects to discuss:Â the ups and downs of my relationship with Sophia, being passive/being assertive, being co-dependent, my insecurity and fear of success, and my neurotic need to be people-pleasing.

I have plenty of posts on all ofÂ these subjects.

And if you start reading my archives, I want to apologize for theÂ one post a few months ago where I said that an hour therapy session being only fifty minutes was a major rip-off.Â Â I understand that you use those extra ten minutes to write notes (or catch the end of Oprah).Â

That was a joke.Â Â I wasn’t being passive-aggressive.Â Â Really.Â Â You’re great.Â Â

California Politics

January 31, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 22 Comments

A woman with a display table was standing outside of Ralph’s Supermarket today,Â asking forÂ signatures.Â As Super Tuesday approaches, the wheels start turning for the next election’s California propositions.Â Every year, there are a whole group of new propositions on the California ballot.Â They are always as confusing as possible, and half of them get stuck in costly court battles.Â The big proposition for this month has something to do with Indian Casinos and their right to add more slot machines to feed their tribes, or something like that, or at least giving the tribes better odds in blackjack.Â Most of these propositions have to do with money and taxes, or where the money should go.Â I have a feeling the money never goes anywhere other than into the advertising campaigns of new propositions.

As I passed the political display table outside of the supermarket, I was shocked to read the poster posted in front of it.Â “Let’s Keep Marriage Between a Man and a Woman.”Â Redondo Beach may not be West Hollywood, but it is still a “liberal” area.Â There were at least four people adding their signatures to put this issue on the ballot.Â I was dismayed and angry.Â Redondo Beach?

I’m notÂ extremely political.Â Sophia is Republican.Â I respect some of the Republican views on international relations, even taxes.Â Â I have a “conservative” side to myself.Â However, religious-tinged issues such as gay marriage, right to life, and putting “God” back into our culture JUST DRIVE me nuts!Â Â Is this what we really want to spend all our time talking about?Â It’s as if a married couple is living in a home where the toilet is flooding the entire house andÂ their car is on fire, and they are arguing over who should do the dishes tonight?Â Â

I think it is cool if gays want to get married or take up juggling.Â Â What’s the big deal?

Anyway, that’s as political as I get, for now.

I went into the store and bought some tomatoes, Cheerios, turkey slices, tomato sauce, and green tea.Â IÂ paid forÂ my items, then left through the “other” front door,Â hoping toÂ avoid the woman with the political display and getting upset again.Â Â But it didn’t work.Â The minute she saw me, she ran over to me with her clipboard, asking me to sign it.Â

“Would you like to… blah blah… about renewable energy?”

“Huh?” I wondered.

I looked over to her display.Â Her poster had two sides.Â One side said “Keep Marriage Between a Man and a Woman.”Â The flip side contained something about renewable energy.Â Everyone that I saw signing their names was adding their name to the renewable energy clipboard, and I just didn’t realize it.

Rather than being relieved, I just felt annoyed at the political system.Â I didn’t add my name for this proposition either.Â Sophia had once told me how it works.Â This womanÂ is paid to get signatures.Â So, she was working on behalf of “Keep Marriage BetweenÂ Man and a Woman” AND “renewable energy.”Â I’m sure she would be handing out Al-Queda propaganda videos if they paid her too.Â It’s as if all the issues areÂ interchangeable.Â Just get them on the ballot, and it helps someone… someone who isn’tÂ the California voter.

Now, that’s what modern American politics is all about.Â Â

OK, now I’m off to watch the Democratic debate.Â Snore.Â Â Then, Lost.

Rambling Post to Scare Off New Readers

January 31, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 65 Comments

Sophia had a little “discussion” with me this morning about my constant pooh-poohing of advertising, calling it immature.Â “We could always use another hundred dollars to help pay for something like our over-priced health insurance.Â It’s not like we’re wealthy people who would refuse money.”Â She made me feel a bit ashamed for being such a stickler, like I’m a pampered baby.Â Â I should talk to my therapist about this.Â I think this advertising issue reflects on other parts of my life where I fear “selling out,” — where I would rather feel good about my superiority than actually make good money for the family.

Does anyone really think less of Dooce for having ads?Â Of course, adding ads to blogs undercuts the whole equality of the blogosphere in my mind.Â But the box has already been open for a long time.Â And who really cares?Â Isn’t each of us here to grab as much asÂ he can get for his family, so they can live the best possible life?Â Maybe the whole premise of this Great Interview Experiment is a farce.Â Maybe we’re not all somebodys.Â If I can make more money than the next guy, I can be a “bigger” somebody!Â Isn’t that how most ofÂ peopleÂ think, anyway?Â Â There is always someone more of a somebody than me!Â I shouldn’t be saying we are all somebodies.Â Why create a myth?Â I should be telling you that I am BETTER than you.Â Then you will look towards me for advice, and maybe even pay me one day for the book I will write, giving you more advice.Â I should ask people to vote for me as the Best Blogitizer!Â I could promote myself and make more money on the blog.Â Is that what all these Problogger websites adviseÂ us to do?Â Isn’t Blogher partly about learning how to monetize your blog?Â I’m wondering if other bloggers will actually LIKE me and RESPECT me MORE if I told them that I just bought a new car off of the earnings from my blog?Â A hybrid, of course, just to impress the eco-babes.

Anyway, just rambling.

Thoughts on the Interviews

January 30, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 40 Comments

How do I feel about the response to the Great Interview Experiment?Â

Overwhelmed!Â I had no idea there would be so many people!Â I think we’re up to 200 interviews going on already, and I’m sure there will be more.Â Just add your name in the comments here.

It’s sort of ironic.Â Here, I wrote a post about how everyone is all equal and interesting, and I get toÂ win all the LINKS!Â Â Suckers!

This morning, Sophia woke me up and said, “There are 200 comments.Â Now is the best time for you to put up advertising!”

“Are you nuts?”Â I asked.Â “I’d look like a total asshole.Â Like I’d set this whole upÂ to profit from it.”

“That’s what you are SUPPOSED to do!”

She just doesn’t understand.Â I’m an idealist.Â Or a wimp thatÂ needs to bring this fear up in therapy.Â Â So far, it has been cool meeting some new bloggers and getting to know old friends better, but in reality,Â it is more work on my part than fun.Â Â It reminds me of the times you have a bunch of friends over for a dinner party, and everyone is having a great time, except you — because you’re serving the little hot dog appetizers on a platter and washing the dishes.Â Â I’m trying my best to keep everything updated.

I’m alsoÂ finally feelingÂ sympathy for bigshot blogger like Dooce.Â Â How the hell do you read so many blogs coming your way at one time?Â And how many “Heather”s and “Kathy”s are there in this world?!Â Â Â Please don’t think of me as rude if I don’t come to read your interview immediately.Â Besides, most of you new people, particularly the mommybloggers, will abandon me soon anyway — after they read some of my NSFW posts.Â That’s why you always have to be loyal to your real blog friends, the ones who don’t leave even when they you write about shtupping your female therapist.Â They’re your real friends.Â

And shtupping isÂ Yiddish.Â Look it up.

Back to the Great Interview Experiment.Â I’m constantly updating the lists of those who want to be interviewed/interview AND the final interviews.Â Â If I screw up in some way, just email me.Â I’m not perfect.Â Remember, I’m just a guy sitting at home in my underwear.Â (by the way, it’s been two years since I’ve asked — are tighty-whiteys still “out?”)Â I still have my blog posts to write.Â And I still need time to flirt with some of my regular blog friends on Facebook and Twitter.Â And to write this brilliant screenplay that is stalled.Â AndÂ to watch American Idol with Sophia.Â I’m a busy man!

I know some of your interviewers/interviewees are going to wimp out and never ask your questions, etc.Â Â If you have been stuck with one of these lazy-ass motherf***ers, I say, giveÂ him five days to redeemÂ himself and respond to you email, and ifÂ he doesn’t,Â just send me an email, and I’ll move you between a prettier pair of bloggers.Â I’m also thinking of deleting any blog from the list that has no other purposeÂ other than toÂ sell things.Â Those blogs are so boring to me, I start to fall asleep just thinking about them.Â If you are one of these bloggers, please do the entire community a service andÂ intersperse some fun stuff in between selling those humidifiers!Â A blog should be interesting!

Again, if anyone has any suggestions, please tell me.Â I think it is important to give a message to the Old Media that personal bloggers have a role to play in society — and culture.Â Elitists will always want to make “real” published writers sound superior (rather than different) to those online, as evidenced by this snarky attack on bloggers in this week’s New York Review of Books (via Time Goes By).Â

Fight the power!

Next Week in Therapy

January 30, 2008 / Neil Kramer / 42 Comments

I’m sitting across from Brenda, my therapist.Â

Therapist:Â So, how did you feel about i?

Neil:Â I was a little upset at her.

Therapist:Â So what did you do?

Neil:Â I withdrew.Â I went into my room and wrote.Â That made me feel better.Â I think I do that too much.Â I did that as a kid a lot.Â I was an only child.Â I always felt most comfortable just sitting around writing something.

Therapist:Â What did you write last night?

Neil:Â I wrote a silly blog post titled “If I Was Married to Hellga of American Gladiators.”

Therapist:Â Hmm…

Neil:Â Although no one reading it would know, I was probably venting about Sophia…

Therapist:Â So, writing this blog is an important outlet for you.

Neil:Â I suppose so.

Therapist:Â Maybe it is a form of therapy for you.Â A way for you to think about things.Â What do you mostly write about?

Neil:Â All different things.Â Mostly funny things.Â About Sophia.Â I’ve even written about you. I mean not real stuff.Â Well, sort of real.Â I use different names for you, and your image has changed as time has gone on.Â In the beginning, I made you into a hot babe therapist.Â Once I wrote about being distracted because your legs were showing.Â

Therapist:Â Really?

Neil:Â Yeah.Â Silly stuff.Â But you do have nice legs.Â Jesus, I can’t believe I’m telling my therapist that she has nice legs.Â Sorry.

Therapist:Â It’s OK.

Neil:Â But I’ve also written more serious stuff about therapy, like that I’m not an “adult” yet.

Therapist:Â I’ve never done this with another client, but your blog seems a large part of your life.Â Your fantasy life.Â Do you think it would be a good idea if I read your blog?

Neil:Â Oh, I was under the assumption that you had been reading it.Â I even wrote about that.

Therapist:Â No, I wouldn’t read it unless you asked me too.Â Do you want me to?

Neil:Â Sure.Â Why not?

Therapist:Â I don’t know too much about blogs?Â How do people find you?Â

Neil:Â It’s sort of complicated.

Therapist:Â Do a lot of people come to the blog?

Neil:Â Well, it depends.Â Right now I have a lot of people coming because I’m hosting this interview thing where people interview each other, but I have no idea how many of them are actually READING aything I write.

Therapist:Â Let’s make next week a special one.Â We’ll sit by the computer together and you’ll show me some of what you write on your blog.Â I want you to show me things that can best help me understand you better.Â Let’s make your blog part of therapy, since it seems to already be like that.Â Or print outÂ five posts that you want me to read.

Neil:Â OK, but you DO realize I’m going to write about this on my blog tonight?

Therapist:Â I have no doubt.