A new website called Miss Travel claims to help women fly around in the world in style, all funded by high-powered men who have everything in their lives except a committed relationship.They either pay for your flights or gift you some of the gazillions of air miles they’ve racked up while making their fortunes.
To get back the forty years of halcyon delight and pain behind me. I just broke up with my emotionally abusive on-again-off-again boyfriend of three years. I am alone except for a few female friends and a network of Internet community. Yet instead of crying I sit alone in my apartment in triumph. Everyone must make their choices, and for some people some of the choices are made for them. The litany and expense of medication, psychiatrist, and therapist are my crosses to bear.After my last twenty-something sugar baby I am no longer interested in that sort of relationship. I am an excellent mid-life crisis girlfriend with my cultural capital, beauty, and family-funded unemployment.That is the only role I am auditioning for in Hollywood. I will never be the wicked stepmother to your children. I take a vow of celibacy until the white skunk streak that I am growing out reaches my shoulders. A drama-free life is a blessing.“Watch out for the sober lesbian widow, she’ll tell you a lot of weird shit,” is probably what was said about me in the bar I used to frequent.The Miss Travel home page looks harmless enough with Fifties-style drawings of glamorous men and women evoking TV’s Mad Men.The website breaks members down into two groups: those who are ‘attractive’ (women) and those who are ‘generous’ (men).To learn more about why certain stores are listed on the site, click here.
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I am incapable of small talk because I always get too deep too soon.
I scare my prospects away like frightened bunny rabbits.
To change the course of this path I plot across a treacherous sea. Look at the pile of paintings leaning against an antique chair. But the concurrent free time is a blessing I am trying to maximize.
All I hope for in the fifty more years of isolated work and a series of cats that I see before me is to die in this same apartment in the four-poster bed my wife and Schizophrenic grandfather died in. There are many things I have no control over, including gentrification and Ellis Act evictions. I could throw myself into going to bars sober with my millennial best friend as I did the last time my boyfriend and I were broken up.
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