the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: haircuts

Haircut Day!

Can you think of anything more self-absorbed than showing people your haircut?   Can you think of an easier blog post to write?  Can you think of a surer way to get Whoorl to comment on this blog? Can you think of a weirder hair salon than one where after the haircut is finished, the stylist unexpectedly massages your shoulder for five minutes with one of those electric gizmos from Sharper Image, scaring the shit out of you (it’s one of their “gimmicks” so they can charge ten bucks more than Supercuts)?  Is there anything more satisfying to a man as watching a nice-smelling woman with really nice breasts washing your hair?  Is there any doubt that I left a 35% tip?  Was it stupid to have spent the whole cut talking about my “wife” and how she hated my messy hair?  Will I ever get laid again?  When am I moving out of this house and getting my life in gear?  Will I ever be done outlining this screenplay?  Should I go to New York for Passover?  Is Obama really experienced enough to be President?  Will there ever be peace in the Middle East?

The before shot (bohemain, but shaggy)  This cut says that I’m irresponsible and poor, but wild in bed.


The after shot (boring, but clean-cut).  Now I am an accountant.  Which is ironic, since I haven’t even touched this year’s taxes.  I was going for a sarcastic, David Sedaris-look, but not sure I got it.  My mouth just looks crooked.


Sophia got a haircut too.   Her haircut is better.  But she spent more on it.  We are looking into the bathroom mirror, standing in front of our toilet.  We have a pretty cool toilet seat in this bathroom, with seashells embedded in the glass and drawings of fish.  The toilet seat makes you think of the beach when you are sitting there.  I asked Sophia if I could take a photo of it so you could see it, but she said “no.” 


Now, was that a POST — or what?!

To Sleep, Perchance to Blog


Nothing bugs me more than blogging “experts” pontificating on what a blog should or shouldn’t be about.  Sure, it might help them write a book on blogging or speak at a conference, but what does anyone know more than YOU about your own personal stuff?

In October, I complained about a blogging book with the title “No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog.”  As a member of the LBADL (Lunch Bloggers Anti-Defamation League), I immediately wrote a post describing what I had for lunch.

Yesterday, I  read a post saying that bloggers should spend more time on their posts, in the hope of creating well-written essays like David Sedaris and selling themselves to magazine editors.   First of all, there already is a David Sedaris, so it seems hopeless to become another one.  Second of all, he is gay, and it is not worth becoming gay just to get published.  And honestly, the chances of your blog doing anything for your writing career are so slim, you might as well just have fun and experiment.

To prove my point, I’m attempted a live blogging experiment.  I went to sleep in the living room and put the alarm on for 3AM.  My goal was to ramble on about my dream, not giving a crap about whether it was interesting or not.

It is now 3AM.  The only problem is that the minute the alarm jarred me out of my gentle slumber, I immediately forgot what I was dreaming about.  This is pretty typical.  I never remember my dreams.  I’ve even tried keeping a pencil and pad by my bed, but by the time I reach for the pencil, the entire dream has disappeared like… well, like a dream.

Even though this blogging dream experiment was a complete failure, I’m glad I did it.  I could have wimped out.  I could have been afraid that some of you would say, “Oh my God, Neil’s post today was a complete mess that he wrote at 3AM.  I’m never reading this blog again!”

If anything, waking up at 3AM has inspired me to write a little bit about SLEEP itself.  

Did you ever notice that we love to write about food and sex, but hardly ever about sleep?   I don’t know about you, but sometimes, there is nothing better than a good night’s sleep.   Between Sophia and the whole car accident scare, and my mother in town, bugging me about getting a haircut, I’ve actually looked forward to just going to sleep the last couple of days.    

I did have a haircut today.  But not because of my mother.

“You look homeless,” my mother has told me over and over again for the last few days.   But I ignored her. 

Today I was in Ralph’s Supermarket, when a woman , around 30, started waving at me.  She was very attractive, but there was something odd about her.  Maybe it was all the chopsticks sticking in her hair.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fine.”  I said meekly, unsure who she was.  She sensed that I was uncomfortable.

“I know you, right?”

“I don’t think so.  Maybe you mistake me for someone else.”

“Don’t you lecture at the Krishna Center?”

“I’m sorry.  You DO mistake me for someone else.”

I immediately left the supermarket and went for a haircut.

Jeez?  How did I get to talking about my haircut.  Wasn’t I just talking about SLEEP?  I think my mind is starting to play tricks on me, like those college students involved in sleep deprivation tests.

Boy, am I sleepy.  Why am I up at 3AM writing this stupid blog post?  To be honest, if I had the choice RIGHT NOW of being served a five course meal from the finest restaurant in New York, of having Kate Winslet walking in naked, climbing on top of me, and f**king until morning, or just going back to sleep — I would choose SLEEP. 

Now tell me sleep is NOT a worthy subject to write about.

Neil’s Penis:  I strongly disagree with the last statement of Neilochka’s ridiculous post, especially the Kate Winslet part.  I will now punish him by making it hard for him to go back to sleep.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  The Argument

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