Drinking and Tweeting and Other Brandi Blunders

Miserable people love to make other people miserable. I don't hate them, I just feel sorry for them.

I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but that's the great part: I don't have to be.

Sure, occasionally a certain sappy song or romantic movie would come on, and you’d wonder what he or she was up to, but there was no way to know. Of course, you could always pick up the phone (and more recently, text or e-mail), but that would require that person’s knowing you were thinking of him or her. Where’s the fun in that? You never want them to know you’re thinking of them, so you refrain. Before long the memories start to fade. One day, you realize you can’t quite remember how she smelled or the exact color of his eyes. Eventually, without ever knowing it, you just forget that person altogether. You replace old memories with new ones, and life goes on. It was the clean break you needed to move forward.

At the end of the day, we need to do whatever it takes to move on. Don’t be ashamed of any decision you make, and stay strong.

The moral of the story couldn’t be clearer: you already know if your partner is fucking around behind your back, you just need to decide if you’re done being a doormat. You need to wake up one morning and decide that those rose-colored glasses are so last fucking season.

Friends for life. These are the men and women that I cherish. Come rain or storm, we will always be there for one another. Maybe that’s the silver lining after having to deal with shitty people: you can truly appreciate the good ones.

It doesn't matter who you are, what you do, or where you live, everybody struggles from time to time. It's not the struggles that define you; it's how you overcome them.

I had spent a year and a half in a total fucking tailspin, and guess what? I needed it. My life had shattered around me, and I needed to fall off deep end for a while.

Sometimes you need to lose yourself to truly find yourself again. But at the end of the day, you have to know when to wake the fuck up and get on with your life.

How many times have you stopped midsentence to ask a waiter to take a photo and then spent the next five minutes fucking with filters to post it on Instagram? It’s as if we have this strange obsession with proving to the world that we are, in fact, cool. Look, I’m totally guilty of this, and I’m not sure I ever intend to stop. It’s just the culture we live in now, but it’s important to keep things in perspective.

He kept telling me his affair was over, but I kept catching him in lies. He wouldn’t shake this woman, and I simply could not trust him anymore.

No matter how old you are, there’s no cozier feeling than to have your mom take care of you.

The most surprising thing about breaking up is that you already know how to do it. Everything you need to know, you learned in kindergarten. Yours should always be better than his (especially when it comes to lawyers).

...if you discover your partner is cheating, drink like it’s your last party, blame everyone else for your problems, let “binging” be your new favorite hobby, and, by all means, FUCKING PANIC.

He’s hidden behind lies and half-truths his entire life, so anytime he’s faced with brutal honesty, he runs. It’s just his nature.

Overindulgence can be a good thing—especially when it teaches you what you don’t need.

I think social media is the enemy of anyone going through a split. Technology is no longer just how we connect with each other, it’s how we disconnect with each other. You used to be able to break up with someone (a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, or friend), and he or she virtually disappeared from your life. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?

It sounds bizarre, but I sort of understood why some people would cause physical harm to themselves when going through emotionally difficult times. Physical pain can make you forget just about everything else.

But after making love to him through tears and anger, I realized he was a perfect stranger to me now. How could I want something back that never existed? I couldn’t unknow everything I had discovered, and I didn’t want to. I liked the woman I was becoming—slowly, but surely—and I was interested in where this new road would take me.

Given everything he’d put me through, he was seriously lucky that’s all I took a knife to. Don’t think I didn’t fantasize about going all Lorena Bobbitt on his ass.

I had stopped doing anything for myself. I no longer felt like an individual because for thirteen years, I was one-half of a “we.

And finally, always remember that the other person started it.

When life hands you lemons, grab the nearest bottle of vodka and make yourself a cocktail.

My mother taught me three simple truths in this world that everyone should recognize: everybody has been dumped; everybody has a bad day; and everybody hates anal (unless you're gay... even then it's a maybe). These are truths, people.

It’s not the struggles that define you; it’s how you overcome them.

While sometimes we all need to climb out of our own fog to realize that we’re far from perfect,

People shouldn’t feel as if it were this terrible thing to recognize a problem, recognize that they’re mistreating themselves and the people around them, and want to get help.

I had yet to learn that while there’s nothing wrong with elevating your partner, that should not come at the cost of your own identity.

It’s actually quite the contrary. It’s time to freak the fuck out, and that’s not just acceptable, it’s obligatory. The rug has just been pulled out from beneath your feet, and everything you thought you knew with absolute certainty has vanished. Absolute hysteria is just the beginning—you’re about to embark on an entire roller coaster of crazy-ass emotions.