Credit: Andrew popik

When I tell people I’m a sex columnist, I always get a response.

A female classmate said I should tell “hos to keep their legs crossed.” Hmm. Not exactly what I was thinking of when I said I’d be giving advice, but everyone’s entitled to his or her opinion.

My former editor has taken to calling me Sexrika.

And my guy friends, well, they didn’t really have any advice, but they were more than willing to offer up their own stories that may or may not be fit to print.

But the most common response I receive is people calling me Carrie Bradshaw, that infamous sex columnist from HBO’s “Sex and the City.”

Let me say this right now: I am not trying to be Carrie Bradshaw, and this column is not going to be “Sex and the City.”

First, let’s face it people. We’re in Kent, and it ain’t New York City. Not that there’s anything wrong with Kent, but when was the last time you saw someone teetering past Satterfield Hall in Manolo Blahniks, or saw delicious Mr. Big tooling around state Route 59 in his limo? Just trying to be realistic.

Second, although I look forward to exposing my friends’ sexcapades, this column is also going to have information from experts such as doctors, psychologists and religious leaders.

So not only will you read some entertaining stories, but you might get some valuable information on things like contraception and sexually transmitted diseases.

Third, I’m a biscuit, or maybe a baker’s dozen, bigger than Sarah Jessica Parker’s Carrie. She makes me look like an Amazon.

Fourth, this is a student paper and our readers are, you guessed it, students. Although Charlotte’s divorce might have been good TV, I’m pretty sure you’d rather read about people like you and their problems with sex, love and relationships. Like what to do when you wake up half undressed, your phone in one hand, the remote control in the other, and you realize that you drunk-dialed your ex-girlfriend. Yikes. Or like what to do when you see your supposed boyfriend with some blonde draped over him. It’s happened to the best of us, my friend.

Fifth and finally, I will never use the word “lover.” It’s just too Larry from “Three’s Company” for me. Creepy.

So the column’s not going to be exactly like “Sex and the City” because I’m not Carrie Bradshaw. Which is a good thing because she’s fictional.

So why am I qualified to write this?

Good question.

It’s because I’m the person my friends engage in two-hour advice sessions about their newfound homosexual crushes and phone sex habits. It’s because I’m not afraid to ask potentially embarrassing questions because I really want to know the answers. It’s because I think this can be both an entertaining column and a great venue for a little sex education. It’s also because I’m extremely logical when it comes to other people’s issues. My own…not so much.

Truly, it’s because I know what it’s like to be a college student and to deal with sex and all that goes with it. I know the agony of waiting by a phone and not only being annoyed that he hasn’t called, but annoyed with myself for waiting by the phone. I know what it’s like to have to break up with someone you’re going to have to see all over campus for the next few years. I know that you stalk people via the Kent State phone directory because I’ve done a little soft-core stalking in my day, too.

Sarika Jagtiani is a graduate student in journalism and the sex columnist for the Daily Kent Stater. Contact her at [email protected].

➤ Send your letters to Sarika at [email protected] or 101 Taylor Hall.