Cast Blog: #RHONY

Cut, Carat, Color ... and Clarity

Alex talks about Bethenny's engagement announcement, Jill and B's confrontation, and her book signing tour!


At about seven o’clock this morning, Simon and I were treated to two flying leaps into bed from the chums who wanted to snuggle, and our two cats barely noticed aside from Madge burrowing under Johan’s arm. This is one of the many reasons we don’t have any small dogs ... another reason being the first scene of tonight’s episode.

Writing this at 35,000 feet and I’m feeling badly about flying on Earth Day, but unfortunately we can’t bicycle down to Miami – Simon and I have four book signings in Miami/Boca/Lauderdale/Tampa from Thursday to Sunday and you can get all the details here at our family website. I also want to take a minute to say THANK YOU so much to all of you who have purchased our book and also to those who have given us feedback on our Facebook page, Amazon, B&N and Borders. It means so very, very much to us, and we’ve also loved it when people at signings introduce themselves with their screenname!

Would you believe that this is the chums’ first trip to Florida? Yes, we’ve been around the world with them but never the sunshine state for some reason, though that will be rectified in about 90 minutes. Only problem is there’s no time for Disney on this trip, but thankfully they haven’t made the connection that Florida is where Mickey lives ... if you see us, SHHH, don’t tell them!

I was thrilled for Bethenny when she told me about her engagement – we had all hoped Jason was “the one” but until it’s official you never know. Of course one of the first things I asked after jumping up and down and screaming was whether they’d set a date yet, which was probably not the smartest first question but very typical Alex, charging ahead to the main event. We ate quiche, salad and had had fun talking about bridezillas and things that were NOT going to be part of the wedding like enormous poofy trains, big hats, carriages in Central Park or a choir (and FYI none of those were – it was beautiful!) We decided that we’d go to the Gotham magazine party together with the guys, where she planned to tell the other ladies.


What is it about the Gotham bachelor party that makes every woman want to arrive nearly naked? I think between Bethenny, Kelly and myself we had one full dress ... when confronted with NYC’s bachelors, best to be as scantily dressed as possible. I was surprised that Sonja covered up so much! That was the first night I wondered whether B might be pregnant, though at the time I told myself she was just glowing because of the engagement (and had her hair extensions in!) We arrived and no sooner had we gotten past the red carpet but Jill hit the eject button on her red fighter jet, ahem banquette, and raced to the opposite side of the room. Although I had been hearing it from both sides, I couldn’t believe that things had gotten SO bad Jill couldn’t even share a booth with her until I saw it happen. Just the sort of thing you want to experience when you’re over the moon about getting engaged – your former best friend can’t even breathe your air. First Kelly tried, then Simon tried and Jill still wouldn’t go talk to Bethenny, claiming she needed Bobby by her side. If she’d said she wanted him to hear the news and congratulate her at the same time, that would have been plausible but I don’t think that was really it. Bethenny and Jason decided to leave and said their goodbyes, then outside there was Jill again. Wow. Ring – a – ding – ding. Yes, B’s ring is a gorgeous piece of jewelry, but it’s a symbol of the engagement, which comes from the commitment made to spend the rest of their lives together which comes from the love they feel. It’s not just about cut, carat and color – isn’t there another C in there? Can’t remember. Ah yes, clarity. At this point we all could use some. Maybe Jill felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say, so she pounced on the ring. Maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Who knows. At any rate, the congratulation confrontation ended and so did the episode. If you think that was dramatic ... wait, oh, just wait.

Until next week, and if you’re in the Miami/Boca/FLL/Tampa area, we hope we’ll get to meet you!

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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