Breakin’ up is hard to do

Sigh. I was hoping to ignore the ubiquitous “Jodie and the Homewrecker” stories out there this past week, but the dozen or so emails on the subject sitting patiently in my inbox cannot be ignored. (Seriously, I’m not ignoring all you – I’m just terribly behind on my emails.) So, here is the thing. I know this photo of Jodie Foster and her supposed new girlfriend Cynthia Mort has popped up online. I know the backstory. (Cynthia was a screenwriter on “The Brave One” and they met on the set.) I know it’s supposedly shocking to Hollywood insiders. I know.

Is it true? Sigh. I have no idea. Is it more than a little sad? Yes, very much yes. Breakups are almost always sad. Breakups with kids involved are always, always sad. And public breakups are a sad spectacle I don’t wish on anyone. May Jodie and Cydney have the time and privacy to sort it all out together.

What I do find interesting about this “story” is how it has been covered around the globe. And when I say globe, I mean globe. A quick Google News search found an item on a news site in Azerbaijan. No, really. But, leave it to the Brits to give us the most gossipy take of all. The adjective usage in the Daily Mail piece alone makes it an (unintentionally) hilarious read. Also, anytime someone writes about the “Pink Mafia” I giggle. Really, I think it’s the only appropriate response.

The only real “news” I could glean from this whole sad spectacle is that Cynthia Mort’s ex is ex-“thirtysomething”-star Melanie Mayron. OK, this dates me a bit, but I used to love “thirtysomething.” Granted, I was a teenager at the time and enamored with the thought of grown-up problems. But it was by the same folks who made “My So-Called Life,” so it was actually pretty good, yuppie angst and all. I had no idea Melanie was gay. (Though I have since learned she was in “The Itty Bitty Titty Committee,” which I have yet to see). She always intrigued me with her funky clothes and funkier glasses. And her cute red hair was kinda short. But I always thought her penchant for blazers with the sleeves rolled up was because it was the 80s. Guess my teenage gaydar wasn’t as finely honed at it is now. Live and learn.