A couple of weeks ago I had a moment of superficial joy that surpassed any I’ve had before. I’ll never forget my fleeting moment of shallow bliss… I started seeing news stories and Twitter messages that Brad and Angelina had (gasp) broken up. Oh my! Say this shit isn’t so! For one fleeting moment I was so happy at the thought that they had broken up I could have quite possibly shit a rainbow. Yes, that’s right… Shit. A. Rainbow.
Like I said… it was a shallow, superficial, vapid moment. Don’t judge me.
What I found even more interesting, before my dreams were dashed and my heart was suddenly broken when I started reading it was not in fact true, was that so many people felt the same way I did. Now I know this is silly and trite and trivial but damn it all to hell I want those two assholes to break up. I don’t care how many orphans that fembot saves (well ok, that is one good thing, shit) or how many UN whatchyamacallit’s Angelina goes on or how hot Brad Pitt still is (damn him and that Billy Goat Gruff beard) they will always be a couple of home wrecking douchebags to me.
I think I feel a small (but not in a weird celebrity stalker kind of way) tie to the whole Jennifer and Brad break up because you see at the time Brad was giving it his all at the office, so to speak, so was my ex-husband. In fact I very clearly recall having a family dinner with his parents over when the news of their split and the Angelina thing came out. The topic came up over dinner as it was on the front page of some random gossip rag I had on the coffee table and my now ex-mother-in-law was just as disgusted at the news as I was. I mean come on, Jennifer Aniston was America’s sweetheart, the one you marry. And Angelina was the, well, she’s Angelina. I remember the conversation clearly that night five years ago because when the topic came up over dinner my ex’s response was “Good for him! He deserves to be with someone that makes him happy!” A statement that immediately got a rise out of his mother (I love that woman) but left me sitting there stunned for a second. You see at the time my gut told me he was having an affair but I had no proof and I had just had our daughter so that was keeping me from putting on a baseball had and following him after he left the office every day. I just had that feeling you get in your gut right before you’re going to puke. Then I remember exactly what I thought to myself while they debated the issue…. Oh. Fuck. He didn’t give two shits about celebrity gossip but he was debating this bullshit like it was the last Presidential debate before election night. And as you all know now… my gut was right.
So when I hear tales of the two of them breaking up a small part of me jumps up and down on the inside and screams “yeah bitches I told you so” and wants to clink a martini glass with Jennifer Aniston. I mean really, nothing built on a foundation of lies and deceit can really work can it? Or can it? Shit. Why do we so badly get joy out of seeing couples that got together through nefarious means split? I mean really this has no effect on me or my life. I guess it’s that there’s that little unspoken club that cheated on spouses become a member of – no matter who you are, famous or not. It’s not a club of victims or losers or left behinds but a club of people who have moved on to a happier life but still want to at least live to see the other person get what the universe owes them. Yes, it’s petty, but it’s real even if others won’t admit it. We secretly root for the demise of the relationship that those in our secret club got dumped for. And yes, I know there are children involved so I shouldn’t wish this. I shouldn’t with for the karma coup d’etat.
But I do.