BY SARAH TEREZ ROSENBLUM
My ex’s new girlfriend looks like me. That’s what my friends say.
“It’s because she’s not over you,” one tells me.
I’ve always bristled at the idea that my specific personality traits, ethnic background, astigmatism, fashion missteps, and intellect when added together might render me a concise package, deceptively easy to categorize and understand. I’ve been referred to as a skinny jew, a smart hottie, and yes, a sexy librarian. Nothing wrong with any of these descriptions. Who’s going to fight smart skinny and sexy, the sibilant trinity? Turns out, I am. Or I did. For years.
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