Parental guidance. Mimsplicit lyrics.

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So. Here’s the thing. This blog has never been about sex. I’m nae Carrie Bradshaw - and honestly, when I read any salacious sex bloggy stuff (not often) I’m aware of how well you have to write to smash out that shiz.

I’ve been single for a year and four months - there have been blogs about dates - and my interpretation of the semiotics of gender as a single straight female. But here are some of the things I have experienced in my nighttime adventures, and I hope I offend none of you but continue to make you chuckle and cringe.

In ten.

1. Yes you do need to wear a condom.

2. There is a fine line between you creeping and flattering when you can remember things about me that I don’t remember myself.

3. If you’re ‘seeing someone’ I do not want to sleep with you.

4. Don’t take jokes I do about other men / my body as an affront. I am allowed to do this. You’re not really allowed though - don’t do jokes about other women.

5. If you’ve read my blog maybe don’t try get off with me. I do not want my blog to be referenced while we’re getting it on.

(6. If you are one of the following men you can read my blog and then make out with / marry me : Jon Snow (worrying huh), Marlon Brando in the past,  Karl Drogo - any Dothraki men, Adam Driver, Adam Driver, Adam Driver... I'm going to stop this now.)

7. Please consider me as a human being, make me tea, accept my tea. Wake me up with cute quips and questions about super powers.

8. Don’t do anything that will make me sad.

9. One night stands don’t make me sad. You lying to me or being weird does.

10. Yes you DO need to wear a condom. It’s polite, boys, to not put me in a situation that could result in a baby shambles - or infection.

From all this one can’t help but wonder if I’ve had a bad run, or if I have too much sass to benefit from the perks of singledom. i.e - men being nice to me EVER. Ok ok ok they often are. I have had clean sheets and freshly poured gin prepared for me, I’ve had breakfasts and tea made. I’ve had moonlight snog walks home, adventure bike parties, I’ve had boys say such lovely things that I smile so hard I think my face may break. I’ve been told I’m beautiful, enigmatic and compelling. But I also have been popped up on a pedestal - one with a spring base that catapults me so high into the clouds that the fact that I have a heart is beyond forgotten.

I have been fan-boyed. I have had to remove my job from my tinder profile. I have been asked for a job in bed. Not kidding. I have also had the unfortunate problem of not being quite discerning enough when vetoing duvet adventures with people I know, and on several occasions now it has turned out that the excitement at ‘getting with miriam’ (I know right?) outweighs the ‘I have a girlfriend’ or ‘I’m literally just doing this to say to myself I slept with THAT girl’ - GUYS - I’M RIGHT HERE. With all my clothes off. I CAN HEAR YOU. I tell you what, it is weird to have a guy talk about me in the third person to my face. I don’t think I need to elaborate.

Final thought. You can see me just as a body. Or just that hot girl (personal opinion applies, LOLZ amirite). Or untouchably cool (seriously I’ve had that) or you can booty call me to ask for a job - but you’ll never be all the people I love and trust that I surround myself with. You’ll always be just that guy - if you treat me like ‘Just. That. Girl.’ And me and my actual guys and girls will be enjoying my anecdotes and shit blogs for longer than it took you to get a slutwhorewonderwoman like me into bed.