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I like to think of my life as a sitcom. That way, when things go terribly awry, I can put on a mental laugh track and get a bit of perspective.

That which is agonizing in person is often hilarious in observation, and really, what could be funnier than the 32-year-old divorcing woman trying to figure out how to be single? Especially a woman that hasn't been single since she was fifteen? Hilarity, clearly, must ensue.

So I'm taking stock of the other men in my life and analyzing the role they will play as I figure myself out. Have I cast my sitcom appropriately?

Scott: Obligatory Gay Best Friend

Scott represents everything I want in a partner, except he thinks vaginas have teeth. Once I actually asked, "Why can't I meet a straight guy who's just like you?" "Um," he said, "somehow I don't think you're going to find a straight guy who will skip with you."

Kingsley: Good-looking Straight Friend I Have Absolutely No Interest In

Kingsley is my colleague and one of my closest male friends. He also represents everything I fear about entering the dating world. I think perhaps he was put into my life so I can thank God at least once a day that I'm not dating him. Kingsley is beyond delighted that he will be making appearances in this column, and has, obviously, chosen his own pseudonym. I roll my eyes when I type it, but love him enough to give him this.

Larry: My Cat

Larry is the stupidest cat in the world. He is also the only man in my life who currently wants to make out with me. Now that I'm living alone, after so many years of living with a partner, this kind of unconditional love is exceptionally comforting.

Strong supporting cast in place, I feel as though in about 27 and a half minutes, everything might turn out okay.

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