Drinking and Tweeting by Brandi Glanville, Leslie Bruce
Authors: Brandi Glanville, Leslie Bruce
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that couldn’t be further from the truth. A well-paid and happy Eddie translated into a well-paid and happy Brandi. I needed him to work. I never watched the show, but I wanted it to succeed. Much like our marriage, it failed—and so I needed a job.
Driving around the city, it’s clear that most people in Los Angeles don’t have real jobs. At any hour of the day, the 405 freeway is completely jammed—for no reason. Even if it’s 11:00 a.m. on a Wednesday, you’re hard-pressed to find a table at Joan’s on Third in West Hollywood or an elliptical machine at the Equinox in Beverly Hills. How were these people paying their rent, and how could I get in on it? I needed some income . . . and fast.
After my first few debacles dealing with the invasive world of tabloid magazines, I decided that if I wantedEddie to keep my credit cards activated, I needed to stay quiet. Immediately, I stopped taking calls from reporters looking for comments. But they were relentless—and as we all know, I have a pretty big mouth and a temper to match. You can’t unspill the milk, and I had dumped out enough to fill a swimming pool. I turned off my phone, blocked numbers, and texted, “No comment.” The quieter I became, the more they wanted to hear from me. It’s like any relationship really: the more you ignore someone, the more that person wants you. And I guess there aren’t too many “tabloid stars” that are willing to speak out publicly about their former spouses or their new girlfriends.
Not long after I went radio silent, my publicist started receiving offers from different media outlets to actually pay me for interviews. It was sort of laughable. I thought, “People will actually pay me to talk?” I’d been running my mouth since I uttered my first word, and now someone wanted to give me money for my opinion? It was genius—and proved lucrative. I didn’t want to go out into the world and bash my ex-husband. With all of his over-the-top, superproduced public displays with LeAnn, he was doing a pretty good job of making himlook like an ass. But I also had a mounting stack of bills. I knew that the credit card company would eventually deactivate my card permanently. If he were smarter, he would have paid me well to shut the fuck up forever, as it appears LeAnn did with her ex-husband. (But then again, if that had happened for me, you wouldn’t be reading this book! #JustSayin)
It turns out that I had supporters out there in the world: men and women who picked up these magazines and read these blogs who related to what I was going through and were interested in what I had to say. I had been told for so long that my ideas and opinions were foolish or stupid that I’d actually started believing it. Once I realized I had this wonderful following, I began getting opportunities to make appearances—and again, people would actually pay me to come to their party, store, or nightclub. My first paid appearance was for a “Fabulous and Single” party at a Las Vegas nightclub that my friend Deb Grimmel set up. She was working public relations for the Tao/Lavo Group and asked me if I was interested in hosting this event for her. I wasn’t that well-known at the time, so I’m pretty sure she asked me mainly because we were friends, but I felt special andwas extremely grateful. I could come out with a group of girlfriends, and they would put us up at the Venetian hotel and resort. The more appearances I did, the more I would stay press-relevant.
These small opportunities began piling up—$10,000 here and $10,000 there—and after a few months of capitalizing on some of them, I was finally able to lease a single-family home in Encino for my boys and me to live in. It was one of the first adult decisions that I had made completely on my own, and it felt amazing. With the help of my parents and the small amount of savings I did receive in my separation, I was finally able to start to build my own credit (which I’m still
Driving around the city, it’s clear that most people in Los Angeles don’t have real jobs. At any hour of the day, the 405 freeway is completely jammed—for no reason. Even if it’s 11:00 a.m. on a Wednesday, you’re hard-pressed to find a table at Joan’s on Third in West Hollywood or an elliptical machine at the Equinox in Beverly Hills. How were these people paying their rent, and how could I get in on it? I needed some income . . . and fast.
After my first few debacles dealing with the invasive world of tabloid magazines, I decided that if I wantedEddie to keep my credit cards activated, I needed to stay quiet. Immediately, I stopped taking calls from reporters looking for comments. But they were relentless—and as we all know, I have a pretty big mouth and a temper to match. You can’t unspill the milk, and I had dumped out enough to fill a swimming pool. I turned off my phone, blocked numbers, and texted, “No comment.” The quieter I became, the more they wanted to hear from me. It’s like any relationship really: the more you ignore someone, the more that person wants you. And I guess there aren’t too many “tabloid stars” that are willing to speak out publicly about their former spouses or their new girlfriends.
Not long after I went radio silent, my publicist started receiving offers from different media outlets to actually pay me for interviews. It was sort of laughable. I thought, “People will actually pay me to talk?” I’d been running my mouth since I uttered my first word, and now someone wanted to give me money for my opinion? It was genius—and proved lucrative. I didn’t want to go out into the world and bash my ex-husband. With all of his over-the-top, superproduced public displays with LeAnn, he was doing a pretty good job of making himlook like an ass. But I also had a mounting stack of bills. I knew that the credit card company would eventually deactivate my card permanently. If he were smarter, he would have paid me well to shut the fuck up forever, as it appears LeAnn did with her ex-husband. (But then again, if that had happened for me, you wouldn’t be reading this book! #JustSayin)
It turns out that I had supporters out there in the world: men and women who picked up these magazines and read these blogs who related to what I was going through and were interested in what I had to say. I had been told for so long that my ideas and opinions were foolish or stupid that I’d actually started believing it. Once I realized I had this wonderful following, I began getting opportunities to make appearances—and again, people would actually pay me to come to their party, store, or nightclub. My first paid appearance was for a “Fabulous and Single” party at a Las Vegas nightclub that my friend Deb Grimmel set up. She was working public relations for the Tao/Lavo Group and asked me if I was interested in hosting this event for her. I wasn’t that well-known at the time, so I’m pretty sure she asked me mainly because we were friends, but I felt special andwas extremely grateful. I could come out with a group of girlfriends, and they would put us up at the Venetian hotel and resort. The more appearances I did, the more I would stay press-relevant.
These small opportunities began piling up—$10,000 here and $10,000 there—and after a few months of capitalizing on some of them, I was finally able to lease a single-family home in Encino for my boys and me to live in. It was one of the first adult decisions that I had made completely on my own, and it felt amazing. With the help of my parents and the small amount of savings I did receive in my separation, I was finally able to start to build my own credit (which I’m still
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