ANNIE'S MAILBOX 'Arnie' sounds like poor marriage material



Dear Annie: I am in my 40s and divorced, with two kids still at home. I don't earn a lot, but my job pays the bills and allows us to live comfortably. I have a nice house that is paid for, and I keep it in good repair.
The problem is my boyfriend, "Arnie." We live in different towns, but we call each other daily and get together every weekend. He is funny, affectionate and treats me very well. However, he pressures me constantly to marry him, take my kids out of their current school and build a new home on his property so we can be together.
The trouble is, Arnie's lifestyle, values and finances are very different from mine. He owns his own business but frequently cannot pay his bills. He doesn't keep his home clean, and his yard is filled with junk and trash. If we married, I would be working full time and doing all the cooking, cleaning and yardwork. The new house he wants to build costs more than I can afford.
Arnie is a dreamer who always believes his next scheme will solve all his money troubles. He is unwilling to find a better job. He says he'll clean up his property but doesn't, and he refuses to move into my current home with me.
I enjoy dating Arnie, but he continues to push for marriage. Should I uproot my kids, pay his bills, go into debt to pay for a new home, do all the house and yardwork, and close my eyes to the rest? Why should I make all the changes? Shouldn't he be making some compromises, too? Frustrated
Dear Frustrated: You obviously know the answers to your questions. Arnie sounds like poor marriage material, and you would be foolish to make a commitment to him. The fact that he's pressuring you to marry him and take on the responsibility of his finances makes his motives seem a little questionable to us. You can do better.
Dear Annie: I read the letter from "Ashamed," who said he cursed too much and wanted to quit. I had the same problem, and my secretary had a surefire cure. She suggested I set up a "Swear Jar," and every time I swore at work, I had to put in $10 (enough to hurt). The money would then be donated to a charitable cause. I agreed to those terms, provided all the other noticeable swearers in the office also participated. After $360, I was cured, and my office made a $2,400 donation to the local children's hospital. Cursing Cured in Canada
Dear Cured: An expensive lesson, but worthwhile. Here's more:
From Pomona, Calif.: Two possible cures for cursing: (1) Put a rubber band on your wrist, and snap it hard every time you say a bad word. This works for other bad habits, too. (2) When you start to curse, say "Curse Words!" instead. You can let off steam without actually saying the offensive words.
Midwest: If the person who's swearing makes a contract to pay everyone 50 cents when they hear him curse, you will be surprised at how quickly the person stops. A group of us in the Army did this in 1944. (The penalty then was 5 cents.)
Verdun, Quebec: Tell that man to take a creative writing course. Writing things down is a wonderful way to improve your vocabulary. You have to think about what you are going to say, and eventually one begins to speak the same way. At 68, I have returned to school, and it is changing my whole life.
Dear Annie: Before visiting friends or relatives, isn't it considerate to phone ahead? My sister has the annoying habit of showing up at my door unannounced, expecting to chat and be entertained. I'm about to tell her what I think. Going Crazy in Grande Prairie, Alberta, Canada
Dear Grande Prairie: Go ahead. It's better than slamming the door in her face.
Creators Syndicate