What's up, blogosphere? I've never blogged before. This is my first blog. I don't know if I'm going to do this right. I'm totally behind the times: No MySpace page, just got cable two months ago, and I cannot - cannot - get my damn Bluetooth to work. And I've never blogged. I feel like an 80-year-old going online for the first time. Scary. So here goes. I'm about to blog. Look at me... blogging.

OK, what's going on in HowIMetYourMotherLand?

Ben Lee dropped by our set a few weeks ago. He had called [series creator] Carter Bays to tell him that he was a huge fan, so Carter invited him to come to the set and watch us tape. (Unlike most multicamera half hours, we don't tape in front of a live audience. It takes us three full days to block and shoot the show, which is entirely too long to make an audience sit, no matter how much candy you chuck at them.) Anyway, Mr. Ben Lee had a beer with us out by our trailers after we'd wrapped. He said he'd first seen HIMYM on an airplane (American, one imagines), the episode from Season 1 where Ted meets Victoria at the wedding. I was curious what it was about the show that landed on him and I thought his insights were really sharp. He said he found it to be quite subversive - here was a show that wasn't cynical, was really about something, and wore its heart on its sleeve in an honest way without being cloying. For him, what was subversive was that it was meant for a broad audience and seemed to have really connected with people and that as a writer of pop songs, he finds this a fascinating challenge: how to be both good and popular.

I think How I Met Your Mother is a really good show. ( Greg Malins, one of our executive producers, actually has a T-shirt that says just that: " How I Met Your Mother Is a Really Good Show.") It's the kind of show, I imagine, that I would really enjoy even if I weren't on it. (I'd also probably be a lot less critical of the guy who plays Ted.) Speaking of good shows, I'd like to take advantage of this tiny soapbox I currently find myself standing upon and say this: " Friday Night Lights is genius!" Seriously, why aren't all 300 million Americans watching this show? I realize there's a chorus of TV critics shouting the same thing, but it's maddening. I love Friday Night Lights. Friday Night Lights is great. Watch Friday Night Lights.

What else? Oh, there's this: After a brief period in which I had let many a Southern Californian convince me that it was all "in my mind," I am once again officially allergic to dogs. Being allergic to dogs cast a huge shadow over my otherwise pleasant childhood. I have no hard data on this, but I can pretty much guarantee I've blown my nose way, way more than you, gentle reader. I haven't left the house without a packet of Kleenex in my back pocket for as long as I can remember. Whenever I start thinking I'm incredibly cool, the packet of Kleenex in my back pocket brings me right back down to earth. I'm so allergic to animals (not just dogs, but cats, horses... ) that when we did "animal exercises" in drama school, I would start sneezing. That's right - no actual animals in the room, just actors imitating them (badly) was enough to get me going.

Regular watchers of the show know that Robin has, or rather had, five dogs. This was a big plot point in the pilot. I didn't tell Carter and Craig (cocreators, show-runners, gentlemen) that I was allergic to dogs until after I'd been cast. They said we'd work around it and if forced to choose between me and the dogs, I would win. Very sweet. So with some Claritin and some thorough vacuuming, we got through almost two seasons without a problem. Then Kourtney Kang went and wrote "Stuff," where Ted learns that Robin's five dogs were all given to her by ex-boyfriends. Upon learning this, all Ted can see when he looks at the dogs are five dudes who used to date his girlfriend. I referred to the guys who played the ex-boyfriends as "bark-ground." And even though they seemed perfectly nice, I hated them all with a white-hot intensity. The reason for this is twofold: A) they were playing dogs and dogs make me sneeze, and B) they were playing my fake girlfriend's fake ex-boyfriends, and I think I'm maybe a little more Method than I had realized.

Anyway, one scene required me to rub my hands all over a dalmatian's face, a face that was mere inches from my own. I'll spare you the details, but if I weren't going to spare you the details, here's what the details would be: My left eye swelled up, my breathing got tight, I couldn't stop sneezing, and my arms broke out in hives. (Pretty sexy, huh, ladies?) All I really needed was some Visine and cortisone and to not be rubbing a dalmatian's face, but there must have been some sort of on-set communication breakdown 'cause the paramedics showed up. Or they were called. That's what I heard anyway. I'm not really sure what happened, I couldn't breathe or see.

As if that weren't bad enough, right before the allergies really started kicking in, I had to get licked in the face repeatedly by a dude named Rick. Rick was part of the "bark-ground" and in the episode, as I'm rubbing the dog's face, the dalmatian morphs into Rick. Come to think of it, maybe getting licked in the face repeatedly by Rick was what swelled up my left eye and constricted my lungs. I'll say this, and this has nothing to do with gender or sexuality: You do not want to get licked in the face repeatedly by another human being. You just don't. It's not pleasant. Sorry, Rick. You were a trouper.

In an otherwise unbelievably amazing job, that was one tough day.

CBS' How I Met Your Mother airs Mondays at 8 pm/ET.