Get Custody of the Cat: A Lesbian's Guide to Surviving Break-ups!

 The How-To Handbook for Revenge, Lesbionage, and Getting Over Her!

  

      So you just found out that Miss Wonderful cheated on you with a cheap hooker from the local junior college. I hate it when that happens! Mainly because it did happen. To me. I also had a prior Miss Terrific cheat on me with a drug addicted gal with Japanimation eyebrows. Lady Eyebrow’s car then promptly, (as if sent as a divine retribution), got set on fire by her drug dealer. With all her clothes in it.  Hello Ex Terrific… how’s about trying to cheat up next time? And alas, their was the girlfriend who would break-up with me, then proceed to call me fifty times until I relented and got back with her. Only, of course, so she could break up with me again an hour later. That was fun.

    By now, I’ve learned self preservation. To not only live beyond my bogus background, but to be better for it. To thrive, if you will. Since coming out years ago, I have learned many valuable lessons, but one is by far at the top of the list. One rule that stands tried and true. Girls are vindictive and lesbians are scandalous, and that blasted “one in the same” rule always applies.

    So when it comes to being a hip and with it lesbian, daring to romance the Sapphic sex, things are bound to happen. Sometimes good things, yes, but good things are not why you picked up this book. You are unfortunately in the club of The Great Lesbian Understanding. You know bad things happen more than we like to admit. Especially if you hang out with your very own L Word posse. Lesbians cannot seem to handle being in a close group of friends without Girl A crossing over Girl B’s line, namely into Girl C’s pants. Call it an unfortunate law of lesbian attraction.

    So what is a dyke to do when she finds herself sitting alone, marinating in Melissa Etheridge love songs, heart broken? Move on. That’s right. Get up and get over it. But how? She was… the one. She was the only girl who ever really got you. You two were three years passed the U Haul rental, comfortably living your lesbo life of bliss. You’d even found the right donor with the perfect male genetics to pass on to your own little bundle of gay joy. And then she dropped the dirty slut bomb. Warmonger.

    You hate her. You miss her. You want her back. But more than that, you want her unhappy. You want her pining away for you on a mountaintop somewhere, (a very chilly mountaintop and, oh no, her without a jacket), staring at your picture through blurry tears as she waxes poetic over what a perfect girlfriend you were. (Because you so were!) Hating herself for screwing it up. And you want her on that frosty mountaintop of regret until the very day she dies… alone, cold, and full of self-loathing.

    We all want that. But sorry to say, it is probably not going to happen. I know in my case there is a serious lack of mountains in my area for her to climb. And besides that, she wouldn’t climb one if there were ten of them in her front yard because she’s freaking lazy. You could put money in a gold dish on top of that mountain and she’s not getting off the couch. You could probably sit Leisha Hailey in that dish with one hundred dollar bills strapped to her naked body and Miss Lazy is not going anywhere. Just saying.

    However, you can still turn your proverbial lesbian lemons into lesbo-licious lemon-aid. After all, it is not like Miss Ex was Angelina Jolie. She wishes. Heck, you wish.

(We all remember her movie Gia. Depressing but, oh yes, we remember it!) And at least then, it would have made for one wild blood vile ride while it lasted. Or a ride with twenty-seven children, whichever Angie you prefer. And on the bright side, now you are free if Mrs. Pitt ever comes to her senses, leaves Brad and calls you.

    Keep in mind, this book in not about maturity, it is about survival. Self-preservation. Break-ups are hell. This is war and you are on your side and your side alone. You are the only one who can get yourself out of this soul sucking succubus hole. And better than that, come out a self-proclaimed independent woman, back in the chaps and raring to go!