Cast Blog: #RHONY

Brought to You by the Letter V

Alex talks vacations, villas, vampires, and vindication.

 

This blog is brought to you by the letter V. V is for vindication. During the USVI trip, I spoke to Simon every day – I didn’t feel the need to prove to the other girls that I’m a good wife and mother so it wasn’t necessary to call home in front of them. Anyway, whenever I spoke to him, or to Derek I said, "Kelly seems to be slowly but surely going crazy." Neither of them believed me. Just like we didn’t get it when Bethenny called it last season – she had a well-deserved "told ya so" moment tonight.

V is also for vampire, because apparently I am one, who wears black Kabuki eyeliner and channels the devil. And with that, WAIT!! Housewives quiz – who said that phrase back in episode seven? How interesting....

Each day one of us prepared a surprise or an activity for Ramona and the girls, and this week you see Kelly’s offering, the photo shoot. I've been in front of hundreds of cameras in my life; at most shoots I had a great time and was completely comfortable, but as anyone who has ever modeled knows, sometimes you just want to take the damned picture and move on. This time I was definitely not comfortable, and it showed in the way I styled myself for the shoot, my posture, everything. Just not good. The night before at dinner was the first time Kelly had said I was channeling the devil, and by the end of the night she had nicknamed me Encyclopedia. That in and of itself is fine and actually pretty funny, but instead of it being cute, it was more like a weapon.

I nearly stayed home with Bethenny that afternoon, but Kelly had put so much effort into planning the picnic and photo shoot that I wanted to try and make it work – also Ramona and Sonja were really excited too and I didn’t want to be a killjoy. Ramona was vivid, Sonja was voluptuous and I just wanted to vamoose. When Kelly tried to get me to relax by saying my son’s name over and over, I nearly ran into the surf to get away from her. It felt very unsettling to listen to this woman who had been so aggressive the night before, suddenly throwing around the name of my child. Argh. I was glad I had the opportunity to bring it up with her that night, but I don’t think she understood where I was coming from.

 

V is for villa - Presidio del Mar was the most spectacular villa I’ve ever seen on an island. Gorgeous, phenomenal and beautiful – and we did have a great time, despite all the drama you see unfolding. Bethenny’s dinner was fantastic – the crab cake was out of this world and the steak was great too. If one defines the term "chef" by whether or not they’ve tasted the person’s food and found it good…she’s definitely a chef.

I literally cannot wait for the next episode to see what they’ve chosen because you would not believe everything that happened. Or maybe you would.

After a month of weird font coding issues, our book is finally available on Kindle!! We’re thrilled, and this weekend Simon and the chums and I are off to Barnes & Noble in Edison, NJ and Carle Place, NY on Long Island for book signings – see our family website for locations and times. Let’s end with one more v word – how about vamanos....

Carole on Elitists and Bitches

Carole says what she really thinks of Aviva and all of her talk about her book and things being "ghetto."

Dear Fans,

Let me start with something I stole it from Twitter this week. "The most dangerous liars are those who think they are telling the truth."

I'll say it again. The blonde at the end of the right couch, the one who's prone to lobbing limbs and insults, is an Insulting. Bitch. Some of you didn't believe me. Maybe some of you still don't. But after watching the reunion shows I imagine it's harder and harder to cheer for the anti-hero. Just when you think she can't get any faker she does.

The story according to Aviva makes me laugh: We were arguing, she insulted me, I called her a psychopath and that prompted her to affectionately compliment me on my age. Sure. Her disdain for the intelligence of the audience is palpable. It was too stupid for me to even reply. But as I was watching the reunion, and particularly Aviva and the way she treats people, I was reminded of something my Grandma Millie used to say. (I love everything Grandma Millie used to say.) "At 25, you have the face you're born with. At 45 you have the face you deserve."

I'd rather be 50 and me than be 45 and Aviva, any day of the week. She aged worse this season than a president in his first term. Holy short dress, I don't mind at all how I look. Overbite and all. I'll take it.

When I first met Aviva she was lovely. Really lovely. I meant what I said on the couch, I wish we had seen more of that. Her easy laugh and funny neurotic ways. Instead all we saw was a mean and angry woman. All because I asked her if she hired a writer -- a writer she did hire. It makes no sense. Three years ago she told me she'd read my memoir, What Remains. This was a book published in 2006 about my childhood, my family, my career and marriage, and then the death of my husband, Anthony Radziwill. A man I loved more than anyone I had loved before or have loved since. She gushed over my book. She quoted from it. We hugged. She seemed so sincere. Flash forward and she now believes it was written by a ghostwriter. She even knew his name, and it wasn't Truman Capote. It was Bill Whitworth, she told me. She repeated this over and over to anyone who would listen. And it doesn't matter how many times she repeats it -- it will never make it true.

When they stopped listening she started saying in the press and on social media that not only was my book written by someone else but that it was not my place to have written a book about my life, and my marriage. And, as if I didn't remember, she reminded me that I'd written about people who had died. Um, yeah. I know. It was my husband and my family and my closest friend who died. Just. . .wow. But I wasn't important enough to tell my story because my husband's family was famous, or historic or whatever she said. Because they had money and privilege and yachts. Really. Who do I think I am?

I’ll tell you. I’m a girl from upstate New York who grew up in a loving, if sometimes kooky, Italian working class family. I worked for everything I earned, just like my parents did and their parents before them. I have a proud family history of hard work and small but precious rewards that followed. My family won't be in any history books. I didn't grow up privileged. We didn't spend summers in Europe or Christmas in Palm Beach. A day spent at the town pool or playing in the woods behind our house was great. Much like Heather, I was taught strong values and decent manners. I learned to live with integrity and honesty. I'm proud of my upbringing and the woman I became, as was my husband. As is his family to this very day. I've known people who lived in what Aviva would consider the "ghetto" who have more class and decency than she shows.

All this talk about class and ghetto -- you'd think we were living in communist Russia. Here is the thing. This is America. In our country it doesn't matter a lick where you are from, it only matters where you're going. So don’t let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough because you didn’t grow up on Park Avenue or in a family that had some history, or because you enjoy saying mother-f---er now and then. I’ve met people from all walks of life. I spent time in refugee camps in Southeast Asia, and in the projects of Chicago. I've been to State dinners with Presidents. I met the Queen of England on a beach in Anguilla. No one is any more valuable or important than you are. No one is more important than your family and your friends.

Let the elitists go slow into the night.

In spite of the BookGate dust up I had a great time this season. I made wonderful new friends in LuAnn and Kristen and my friendship with Heather is more special and important to me than I could have ever imagined just three years ago. Friends have each other's backs. I love her, madly. And while we didn't always act appropriately, we had a lot of laughs. I hope you did too.

Thank you all for your supportive and funny and brilliant tweets. And while we didn't all agree on everything all of the time I enjoyed your participation in the show. Even the mean tweets about my skinny neck and my overbite were amusing. Like I said, I've stolen some tweets already. You may see others as dialogue in my next book, and yes, you can all say you were my ghostwriters.

As always,

With love, Writer Girl xoxo

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