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by ss Daniel Kamesh kamesh (2019-02-11)

Whooping cranes mate for life. Fibrolief Review (Apparently, it's hard to find a good whooping crane divorce attorney.) So do a lot of lesbians it turns out, me included. What the hell had happened to me? I wasn't sure how to approach this separated single life. Rosann seemed to be doing OK. It occurred to me to Google all of my ex-girlfriends to see if they too were doing fine without me. I decided it seemed best not to know at this juncture. After the kitchen store debacle, I needed some down time from more bad news. I was truly immobilized, a lesbian in the headlights as it were. Had Kevorkian not been in jail, I may have called to see if I could get in. I was suddenly too thin, too tired, and too pained to be with most people. I preferred strangers for company, as I could not contain my grief with friends or family. I may as well have been in the Witness Protection Program. Actually, those folks probably had more social contact than I did. I remember one night glancing at the personals of a local lesbian newspaper, wondering who else was out there looking for love. I had no interest in really dating, more like misery loves company. The ad that caught my eye was that of a Wiccan priestess. I imagined her concocting love spells in the moonlight. Hmm, interesting. Dating a Wiccan priestess, now that would be a new one even for me. Do pagans like Catholics? Could I bring her home to meet my Italian mother? It couldn't be any worse than dating a vegetarian, could it? They can get a little kooky too. I was really crazy about a particular vegetarian until she accused me of sneaking some meat product into her risotto. A Wiccan priestess would be at least a great distraction from all of this gut wrenching stuff. Then I thought, what if it didn't work out, would she cast an evil spell on me? Would I suddenly develop adult onset acne or something equally distressing like a chocolate mousse allergy? Would I have to say to every future lover, "here's the deal, I tend to eat too many pop tarts, I get constipated on vacations, I love Barry Manilow, and if the priestess ever sees us out it may not bode well for you." Perhaps the priestess should be left alone. Looking at the personals was always a showstopper. I wondered what my personal ad would say. Should I be truthful? Single 45-year-old lesbian, heartbroken, hungry, can't cook, likes to watch a lot of TV, seeking bright, sexy, rich, ambitious, funny lesbian, ages 39 - 46 please send picture and note.