I'm tired of Heather Mills

I've never been much of a Paul McCartney fan and so I have no vested interest in his ongoing break-up with Heather Mills--other than I wish they would get on with it already.

Mills simply does not know when to shut up. Apparently, their's was an unhappy union from the start. But, considering Heather had more to gain by becoming Lady McCartney, one can almost understand why she put up with him for four long years. I guess he needed viagra, as if he is the only man of his age to rely on pharmaceuticals for a stellar performance. Another of his great sins is that he admitted that he was partially to blame for the end of their marriage. Well, duh, isn't that always the way? Too bad Heather can't admit that maybe she had something to do with the end as well. However, Heather seems to be a spiteful bitch who wants to come out of this as a cross between Mother Theresa and Princess Diana. Not even her lawyers want to deal with her anymore--and lawyers will represent anyone as long as the legal bills are paid. Anyway, according to the British tabs, Lady McCartney has tapes of conversations with her then husband and at least one of her step-daughters. I guess wondering why she would tape them in the first place is useless. She keeps threatening to use these tapes in court, where I am sure they will have less of an inpact since she, or someone close to her, reveals the contents to the tabs. Heather, who made a name for herself by marrying Paul in the first place, wants to be known fort her charitable work--which apparently she cannot pursue until the financial settlement meets her needs. And that, apparently, is really what this is about. Heather wants money and lots of it, Paul would prefer to keep his money to himself. Meanwhile, Heather continues her assault on Paul's character, somehow convinced that the public who has lionized him for 40 years will suddenly change its mind. Yeah, when pigs fly.

The gifts that just keep giving

Well, I finally entered the 21st century and installed high speed internet, having ditched both my trusty ancient computer and dial up. Oh, the days when things were easier. I went to get the handy dandy home install, that, of course, did not work, and had to call an installer, for a few. He was quite nice. I have real fast awfully good access to the internet, but no job. And this whole mail thing defeats me. I think things were easier when we traveled to our local monestary and had the monks do our writng for us. Nicer to look at as well. I am set up in a corner, without proper light, my computer on one TV table to my left and the keyboard on another--niether of which are stable. It's also cold. I willl not turn the heat on, so I am huddled in a dark, cold corner, looking for a job. Life cannot get better than this. And I still have trouble logging on to this page.

All of life's problems are solved at the movies

So, I'm sitting here weeping over The Holiday--a film that for whatever reason I gave a pass when it opened--for the same reason why I weep every time I see Crossing Delancy, one of my favorite movie. It's about toxic relationships and our unwillingness to either see them for what they are or to get out of them--and what happens when we are forced out. And this does tie into my recent work disaster. Because we stay there in the hope that it will get better, that somehow through some force of will, we can make them better. The Holiday is written and directed by a woman, of course. Only a woman could understand why we do it and repeat the bad behavior and are surprised by the inevitable end.

And it is a chick flick. I cannot imagine any man who could understand why this movie resonates with women. That sounds like a sexist comment, which it may be, and the movie is not perfect, but it spoke to me. I suppose in both cases, it's the happy ending, both of which are wholly unbelievable. In the case of Crossing Delancy, no guy waits that long and in the case of The Holiday, it was too pat, too predictable. But jeeze, wouldn't it be terrific if life's ends were like movies?

Neither The Holiday or Crossing Delancy elicited the great gulping sobs precipitated by The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio, All Mine to Give or Dumbo, but I wept anyway because there was a lot of truth there. We cripple ourselves by staying in relationships that do us no good and by our hubris: we think this time it will end differently.

Successful people understand timing; the know when to hold and, more importantly, they know when to fold. I never learned that and maybe it is too late. But I keep plodding along, hoping for a happy ending--often feeling like a tennis ball as I bounce for here to there and off the wall back again. There has to be an answer, there has to be a time when I will find that answer. I have no idea how this will end and so far, I have been frustrated in my attempts to move forward toward something new. But I think it must be positive that through no fault of my own I have been shoved out of a bad working relationship, into a whole new and far scarier world toward something else. If my life was a movie, something wonderful would have fallen into my lap. But this is real life, and my way out is not so clear. But I do believe there is an exit sign somewhere.

Dumb questions

I haven't applied for a job since 1990 and I haven't worked a cash register since 1964. But there I am, old and weary applying for a cashier's job at a Halloween specialty shop. I am old enough to remember when the Halloween decorations came to the door demanding candy and then went away. But holiday decorations have gone way past the Polk Brother's Santa that sat on our front porch. I need a job, they need a clerk. it's part time and season, and pays a whopping $8 an hour. Who knew that during the interview the harried manager would actually ask me, "Why are you looking for work." I should think the fact that I am unemployed was sufficient, but she wanted an answer. Always happy to spin a tale, I told her one. I'm bored with retirement, which is less dramatic than "I am desperate and broke."

Even when I was somebody who hired people, I never asked that job. I might ask what it was about the job that attracted the applicant. But I never asked, "Why are you applying," because when the applicant is unemployed, it seemed obvious. I also never asked anyone "Where do you hope to be in five years?" Obviously, the hoped to be gainfully employed.

Anyway, the manager took a long leisurely up and down look and me in my decrepitude and asked "Are you up to this?" So, I suspect the other, younger, more physically fit applicant gets the job.

Look, I am glad, glad, glad not to be where I was and should have left there long ago. But, I've made such a has of my financial life that I need something, and need it soon. I am looking for work because I need the money and because I am no longer able to find something for which I may be more qualified. Although, I gotta tell ya, I ain't feeling qualified for much lately.