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It’s probably a good thing I held off writing this piece about the ClexaCon weekend in Las Vegas on March 3-5. I wasn’t sure if I was the only one who was feeling the complete agony of withdrawal when I had to say “hello” again to my “normal” life. Apart from being married to the most wonderful and supportive woman on the planet, my “normal” (not including Curve) consists of a low-respecting manufacturing job where women are viewed as the weaker and inferior sex. I had noticed after my return from the convention a lot of the women, whom I had the pleasure of meeting there, took to Twitter and expressed how awful they had felt that ClexaCon was over. I automatically felt a sort of relief when viewing tweets from the celesbians who were gushing over the weekend and missing its camaraderie.

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