Read Online Drinking and Tweeting by Brandi Glanville, Leslie Bruce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brandi Glanville, Leslie Bruce
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had everything else in my life, so why wouldn’t she want all my friends? It’s not like she ever had any of her own—child stars rarely do. By this point, most of the magazines and blogs were referring to her as a “Brandi clone,” so I guess it makes sense that she wanted to completely inhabit my world. I wonder when she’ll ask everyone to start calling her B and start trying to come to Sacramento for holidays. #StalkerMuch?
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the only one of my “friends” to be lured over to the dark side. It was mostly the wives and girlfriends of Eddie’s buddies whom I had developed close relationships with. Eventually, I spotted most of them somewhere on the blogosphere—at one time or another—walking along the sand in Laguna Beach or snowsuit shopping in Aspen with my husband’s new wife.
While I have an arsenal of terrible names I could call LeAnn, stupid isn’t one of them. This country-music singer was clever. To make Eddie’s transition as smooth as possible from wife number one to wife number two,she totally inhabited his world—or at least what he wanted his world to be. She must have figured that befriending these women would be the easiest way to keep Eddie comfortable. (Plus, she can’t stand it when anyone dislikes her. I guess she’ll have to get used to that.) She wooed them with an all-expense-paid vacation to Cabo San Lucas—complete with private planes, private beaches, and private chefs—and the unspoken promise that their own stars might rise if they stood next to her long enough. After all, there’s a photographer lurking around every corner, right? (Usually because she’s called them.)
L osing these women was a blessing in disguise. Their absence allowed me to fully appreciate the handful of extremely loyal friends who have stuck by my side throughout this journey. These are the men and women who understand me better than I sometimes understand myself. They knew when I needed them nearby, they knew when I needed space, and they knew to lift me out of the hole I was digging for myself when I started losing control.
However, even my best friends didn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming amount of media surrounding my divorce. I didn’t, either. It was unlike any breakup any of us had experienced. For months, the coverage was incessant. Then it would die down until something happened to reignite the fire: Eddie and LeAnn’s moving in together, my DUI charge, Eddie and LeAnn’s wedding, my new role on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills . The constant reminders of the affair that ultimately led to Eddie’s and my divorce made moving on more challenging than it would be for the average divorcée, and my friends were unsure of how to handle it when they came across something on the Internet or in a magazine.
It was the million-dollar question for today’s world of tabloid-celebrity breakups: What do you do when you see paparazzi photos of your friend’s ex with his or her new partner? It’s the same predicament people nowadays encounter through social media. Do you tell your friend when you see photos of her ex-husband walking along the beach with his new wife and the kids? Do you send them to her? She probably doesn’t want to see, but you’d rather she learn about it from you than be blindsidedlater. Or do you ignore it? It’s never fun being the bearer of bad news, so perhaps you just let someone else spill the beans?
During the early, obsessive days of my divorce, I was desperate for any information I could get on Eddie and LeAnn. When a friend would send me a Twitter photo of bonus mom cuddling with my kids, I would stare at it for hours. I was hungry for any information I could get my hands on, but those were my virtual-cutting days. Today, I’d rather not know about it. (I believe that’s what my therapist calls “progress.”) I don’t need a friend to send me a photo of my ex-husband’s replacement wife in a bikini, even if only to point
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the only one of my “friends” to be lured over to the dark side. It was mostly the wives and girlfriends of Eddie’s buddies whom I had developed close relationships with. Eventually, I spotted most of them somewhere on the blogosphere—at one time or another—walking along the sand in Laguna Beach or snowsuit shopping in Aspen with my husband’s new wife.
While I have an arsenal of terrible names I could call LeAnn, stupid isn’t one of them. This country-music singer was clever. To make Eddie’s transition as smooth as possible from wife number one to wife number two,she totally inhabited his world—or at least what he wanted his world to be. She must have figured that befriending these women would be the easiest way to keep Eddie comfortable. (Plus, she can’t stand it when anyone dislikes her. I guess she’ll have to get used to that.) She wooed them with an all-expense-paid vacation to Cabo San Lucas—complete with private planes, private beaches, and private chefs—and the unspoken promise that their own stars might rise if they stood next to her long enough. After all, there’s a photographer lurking around every corner, right? (Usually because she’s called them.)
L osing these women was a blessing in disguise. Their absence allowed me to fully appreciate the handful of extremely loyal friends who have stuck by my side throughout this journey. These are the men and women who understand me better than I sometimes understand myself. They knew when I needed them nearby, they knew when I needed space, and they knew to lift me out of the hole I was digging for myself when I started losing control.
However, even my best friends didn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming amount of media surrounding my divorce. I didn’t, either. It was unlike any breakup any of us had experienced. For months, the coverage was incessant. Then it would die down until something happened to reignite the fire: Eddie and LeAnn’s moving in together, my DUI charge, Eddie and LeAnn’s wedding, my new role on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills . The constant reminders of the affair that ultimately led to Eddie’s and my divorce made moving on more challenging than it would be for the average divorcée, and my friends were unsure of how to handle it when they came across something on the Internet or in a magazine.
It was the million-dollar question for today’s world of tabloid-celebrity breakups: What do you do when you see paparazzi photos of your friend’s ex with his or her new partner? It’s the same predicament people nowadays encounter through social media. Do you tell your friend when you see photos of her ex-husband walking along the beach with his new wife and the kids? Do you send them to her? She probably doesn’t want to see, but you’d rather she learn about it from you than be blindsidedlater. Or do you ignore it? It’s never fun being the bearer of bad news, so perhaps you just let someone else spill the beans?
During the early, obsessive days of my divorce, I was desperate for any information I could get on Eddie and LeAnn. When a friend would send me a Twitter photo of bonus mom cuddling with my kids, I would stare at it for hours. I was hungry for any information I could get my hands on, but those were my virtual-cutting days. Today, I’d rather not know about it. (I believe that’s what my therapist calls “progress.”) I don’t need a friend to send me a photo of my ex-husband’s replacement wife in a bikini, even if only to point
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