Cast Blog: #RHONY


Ramona describes her emotional vow renewal ceremony.


First I would like to say thanks to all of my fans for your support throughout the season. Without you the show would not be the success it has become. I really enjoyed myself this year even with all the craziness. I have received endless emails with questions on how I maintain my body. I will post my tips on my blog, but the one key was my trainer Gaby from

The day I renewed my vows with Mario, I felt as though I was getting married for the first time. I could have waited for a milestone anniversary, but I chose now because it felt right. I have been renewing every aspect of my life - my friendships, my career, my looks - why not renew one of the most important aspects of my life - my marriage and my relationship with my husband? In the age of high divorce rates, and complacent, loveless marriages, Mario and I have beaten the odds. We have been happily married for 18 years, which to me is wonderful, but in NYC abnormal.

The Pierre is a very special place and having the vow renewal ceremony there was a dream come true, as I wanted to get married there my first time with Mario.

The day of the ceremony I felt like a bride, but the difference was that I knew 100% Mario is the man for me and we will live happily ever after!!!

When Avery and I looked through the trifold mirror in our suite, she took my breath away. The moment was surreal and tears welled in my eyes. I saw a younger version of myself and it was as if I was seeing her for the first time as the woman she had become. I am so proud of her and the person she has become through the love Mario and I have given her. Walking down the staircase to meet Mario and Avery, I was glowing like a first-time bride. I felt more beautiful that day than the day I got married 18 years ago. I basked in the love I felt coming from all of our friends in the room. When I walked up to Mario I saw such intense love in his eyes it was caressing my entire body. I started to tremble. We each prepared our own personal vows and I was hoping I would not forget them.



When I read my vows to Avery before the ceremony she said to me, "Mom, you will not be able to say your vows, you'll start crying." So I told her if that happened she would have to take over and read from my note cards. Well I did get teary eyed, but I was was able to get through it. You didn't get to see most of Mario's vows to me. He was so emotional and what he said was so touching to me and to everyone else in the room. There was hardly a dry eye. Go to Mario's blog to read his vows, I hoped he posted it.

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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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