The interior of my mind (I'd like to think) is similar to that of an English gentleman's club. There are books and whisky; fine conversations and ancient agreements; nuance and humour. A smell of leather wafts around, the passing down of wisdom from one generation to another the currency of the house.
It's all bollox of course, a pure fantasy fuelled by (Sean Connery as) James Bond, failed British Empire schooling and a particular kind of snobbery one admires from afar, but can never really be a part of.
Never end a sentence with a preposition, by the way.
What interests me is what it's like inside the female brain. Those kitchy funnies depicting lady-brains as being all about shopping and emotion leave me cold, if only because the real thing is so much more likeable than that. A big mistake I have made in the past is to see women as a kind of enemy...or more like an untrustworthy ally, like, say Siegfried and Roy's tigers.
The female brain is an utter mystery to most guys I think, but it need not be so. One thing I discovered a while ago is that unlike mine, your brain is full of voices competing for attention. Goodness, it must be a cacophony in there. Guys need only understand that in order to be heard, they should be the loudest, most persistent voice. That's all. And I don't mean shouting without taking a breath. Just be there with a consistent, loving message, and you'll be heard.
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