Drinking and Dating: P.S. Social Media Is Ruining Romance
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
On the heels of her New York Times bestselling book Drinking and Tweeting, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Brandi Glanville takes readers on a wild ride through her dating life in this highly-entertaining relationship book.
Drinking and Dating chronicles Glanville’s misadventures stumbling through today’s dating world. From social media blunders to bedroom escapades, Brandi withholds nothing. Each chapter is inspired by a relationship encounter she has had since her sensational divorce from actor Eddie Cibrian. Hilarious, surprising, vulnerable, and outspoken, Glanville’s unexpected take on dating after heartbreak – and life in general - is as unique as she is. Just like Brandi herself, Drinking and Dating is sexy, funny, and eyebrow-raising.
Coast girlfriend?) How would I react if I found that out? The what-ifs started building that cage around me, and I started to panic. My paranoia was getting the best of me and I began spiraling into crazy girlfriend mode, and that’s never hot to a man. So I did what any fucking coward would do. I called him a few days before he left and let him down softly, sweetly, and, most importantly, first. He couldn’t crush my heart if I was the one to break things off. I told him that it would be for the
terrified of being hurt again. While opening my mind was a relatively easy task, you’re about to find out I had a bit more trouble opening my heart. At forty years old (going on twenty-five), I was finally ready to be a single woman again, but I had zero idea what to expect. To put it quite simply, the game has changed. You heard it here first, folks. If you’re like me and have recently reentered the dating pool as a single parent or divorcée, you’re in for a serious fucking wake-up call. Oh,
giggling and enjoyed the evening. We saw each other a few more times over the next month, but I couldn’t help but feel I was hanging out with a really good friend and not a potential love interest. After all, I couldn’t really fall for a guy who would make me laugh instead of come. When I first met my ex-husband, I was casually dating one of the biggest television stars of the nineties (let’s call him Andrew). I met him in August 1995 at the Whiskey Bar, naturally. Like most drama geeks,
fucking lazy that you need an app to help you choose between a collection of “casual” women within your current three-mile radius to screw? I just don’t get it. Half the fun of sex—and dating, for that matter—is the chase and the challenge. So I don’t see the fun in a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. I’d rather stick with a drawer full of kitty toys and ask one of my guy friends to take me to dinner. Truth be told, I’m no longer interested in just booty calls. Spending a few hours banging someone who I
since we haven’t had much luck coparenting with our ex-spouses, we rely on each other to help. He also fills the “dude” role in my life. When my beloved dog of twelve years Jesse was attacked by coyotes in my backyard (something that still breaks my heart every day and made the loss of Chica so much worse), it was Darin who came over to take care of the situation because I was inconsolable and physically unable to handle it myself. If my electricity shut down in the middle of the night, it was