Lemondrop

So, Courteney Cox and David Arquette have been secretly separated since January, and now, news breaks that Christina Aguilera and Jordan Bratman have been singing the theme song from "White Nights" for over six months now.

It's kind of shocking that A) some celebrities are capable of discretion, and B) Schwimmer is now the only one of them in a stable relationship.

Yeah, OK -- usually, following a high-profile breakup, one waits a reasonable period of time before discussing the details in the press. (Say, when they're trying to promote "Wall Street 2.") It's just easier for everybody involved to go to their best friend's compound for Arbor Mist and Revlon Frost & Glow highlight kits without a paparazzi tail.

So, like, what was with David Arquette waiting less than a day after the news broke to rhapsodize to Howard Stern about his dearth of Adult Time with the most grating of the "Friends"? For not-f**k's sake, shouldn't some things be sacred?

Literally hours after they announced that they were On a Break, David was helpfully letting satellite subscribers know that he hasn't been laid in many moons. And that one of the big factors behind the split was -- wait for it -- his own immaturity. (As Balki Bartokomous might say, "Get out of this city, David!") But I guess if I were an Arquette, I would probably try to stay separated as long as possible too, so I could take the opportunity to appreciate all of my red snakeskin suits and maybe move in with "Medium" and Alexis and help them alphabetize their canned goods, like in "The Accidental Tourist."

It got me thinking ... Most of us don't have publicists. We have the Freeware version: Facebook.

And if your relationship is alive there, how long do you wait until after a breakup to "Videodrome" it?

There's something that feels a little, oh, I don't know, uncomfortable about broadcasting the death of your love while it ought to be quietly stiffening in a leathery body bag of reticence. A few weeks ago, a pair of mutual friends split up -- one of them waited about 13 hours to change the "relationship status" option, which led to a flurry of confused comments from friends whom the news hadn't quite reached. Even weirder, the other half of the couple chose not to update at all, and was left hanging in a weird interpersonal ether -- "In a Relationship" and yet ... not.

The last time I went through a breakup, it was with a dude who was hiiiiiiiighly invested in keeping our status up-to-the-minute, Drudge Report–siren-style. For my part, I'm way too cool to talk about my personal life on the Internet, but I let it slide because it seemed important to him. Thus, our mercurial relationship clogged the news feed like condoms in country plumbing, and precipitated so much catty bitching that a former intern wrote to thank me for being "better than Telemundo."

But when I decided to make my status private, my off-again/on-again boyfriend complained that I was trying to hide our relationship. (He was kind of right!) So, now I have a different set of privacy controls for friends, colleagues and people who may at any given point have been led to believe that they are in a relationship with me, which makes me feel like one of those traveling salesmen with a secret second family -- kind of baller, and yet kind of guilty.

So, what's the right amount of time to wait? When you break up, do you rip off the Facebook status Band-Aid, or do you wait for it to lose adhesion and fall off in the shower when you're huddled under the tap, weeping quietly into your unshorn legs? Or is the solution to keep your relationship private at all times? Furthermore, David Arquette has a clothing line with Ben Harper, who ALSO just got divorced -- do you think they had some kind of "Can't Hardly Wait"–style breakup pact?

Please, do let us know.