Lights, Camera, Divorce

In the days when I sold my first husband's paintings we made quite the cute team. It fooled us.I easily parlayed his colorful renditions into cash with my multifarious connections.While I have no inheritance I come equipped with the ability to contact anyone. Once. Then I gotta have something to say, something to sell.I soon figured the husband was not permitted near while I was making a sale as he would inevitably wreck it. He talked too much. Except for when we were alone as then he was mute and this would grate.Years accumulated and I got slicker with the negotiations. A friend, a Hollywood producer, was making a movie about a painter. The 'painter' would be played by Brad Pitt, then still an unknown.I chained hubby in his studio and gave him instructions laden with bribes and threats. Hubby loathed orders but I was the boss, because I made the sales. Sparks flew but the work got done.The producer flew hubby and I to the shoot, a warehouse in Portland, Oregon. I prattled with Pitt one evening outside his trailer and I remember thinking he was reserved. Plus he was pretty, like a girl. He barely left a stain of a memory. Thankfully I'm not in the movie trade as I have zero instincts for future mega-stardom.The producer suggested hubby and I play background roles. With my 19th century upbringing I was horrified and refused. Not the first wrong decision of my life.Hubby and I earned a comfy income and this encouraged us to ignore the stifling tensions. Marriages collapse for a multitude of reasons. In our case, in retrospect, the fractures were obvious from the start.Shy of a decade I bolted. Divorce, in a word, was the happiest day of my life. I hope the same for others. -- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
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