Tag Archives: what is not wrong with you
Chewing gum: how soon is too soon to be a fuckup?
“I’m not 17, I’m a grown-arse woman. I just regularly make childish mistakes.”
– Tracey, Chewing Gum
In today’s blog, I am going to tell you about a ridiculous, embarrassing mistake. The first person I told was my good pal Jessica, who greeted this story with howls of laughter followed by ‘you’re definitely going to tell the blog this, aren’t you? You HAVE to.’ And yeah… I am committed to telling you my silliest fuckups as well as my sexiest fucks, so I guess I do have to. This is a story about chewing gum, and the question of how soon in a budding relationship is too soon to be a fuckup.
It’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on
Obvious point: it’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on. Especially a personal blog which relies on telling stories. At the moment the world is mostly flooded with two types of story: the boring and the horrible. There are rare, lovely, sexy moments of joy, and I try to capture those when my brain is functioning, splatter them onto the page and hit ‘publish’ quickly before I have too long to second guess whether they’re good enough. But I’m mostly here for honesty so I’m just going to say it plainly: it’s hard to write a blog when there’s a plague on.
In which a strong, independent woman meets a spider
I am single now, so I’m doing everything on my own. I fucking love it. There’s an immense and roaring joy that comes with the power of being alone. The power to do or not do something based purely on whether the fuck I want to. Singing loudly in the kitchen. Dancing… well… everywhere. Learning new things and remembering old things and saying ‘yes’ when someone asks me for Skype drinks. I’m a strong, independent woman. In every single area except one.
For the one night stands who were not mistakes
To the one night stands. To the fucks who didn’t love me, or ever need me to love them: a heartfelt thank you. You were not mistakes, but memories.
Men are everywhere: shoot your shot
Men: they’re fucking everywhere, aren’t they? God, I had almost forgotten they existed. I used to walk down streets past men every day and barely give them a second glance, but suddenly now I am starting to notice them. Men. Everywhere. This is a post written loosely off the back of a pep talk I gave to a friend, in which I urged her: shoot your shot. (hat tip to @Oloni for introducing me to that excellent phrase)