Cast Blog: #RHONY

The Lizard King

Ramona on Her Divorce From Mario

Carole on Elitists and Bitches

Heather Says That's a Wrap

Sonja: Don't Take Yourself Too Seriously

The Countess: Sonja and I Are on the Outs

Aviva Says Bye for Now

Kristen on Surviving Her First Season

LuAnn: For Ramona Ignorance Is Bliss

Who Cares How Carole Wrote Her Book?

Carole on Stupid Things You've Heard on Bravo

Aviva's "Foul Ignorance"

Kristen: Ramona's Out of Touch with Reality

Sonja Is Very Private

Ramona on the Grueling Reunion

LuAnn: Sonja Is Off the Rails

Heather: Et tu Ramona Singer?

Aviva on Kristen's "Gatemouth" Look

Kristen: Sonja Could Be Successful

Sonja's Glad Aviva Threw Her Leg

Carole: Waiter, We're Done

Ramona: Aviva's Leg Scared All of Us

Heather Focuses on What Matters

LuAnn: Sonja Only Has Herself to Blame

What Else Does Aviva Have in That Bag?

Aviva: Leggy Blonde

God Gave me a Great Ass and His Approval

Sonja on Her Harry Situation with LuAnn

Ramona: Where Did the Time Go With Avery?

Heather Tips to Plan a Party for Carole

Aviva Rises Above the Nonsense

Love Kristen Tender

Sonja and Harry Aren't Good for Each Other

Ramona: Mario's Voice Is So Sexy

Aviva Defends Her Asthma

Heather's Sasha Fierce Moment

Nothing Is Too Romantic for Sonja

LuAnn: I Sing When I Feel Like Singing

Kristen: This Show Has Helped My Marriage

Carole: Oh Beautiful for Spacious Skies. . .

Ramona: Just Don't Ask Me to Go Every Year

The Lizard King

Aviva explains her Secret Santa gift, what she looks for in a friend, and why the wine debacle needs to end.

It is the night of Carole's dinner party and after a busy day I called Reid to ask him to pick up a Secret Santa gift on his way home from the office. He replied, "Sure thing honey. Consider it done." He bought a lizard. When we got in the car to dinner Reid started to explain that the box was prepared by a Petco expert with the lid cracked open and lots of air holes everywhere. He was very concerned about the lizard's well being while I was afraid of who would receive the reptile. Thank goodness Carole got it! She was so elegant calm and collected. She named him George. Mmmmmm. Speaking of, my dad entertained us all that evening. He was, as usual, inappropriate but hilarious.

So let's get this straight. I am in Carole's apartment having M&Ms for lunch when Carole invites us to St. Barths to celebrate her book completion and meet up with her boyfriend who is performing there. While at first this seems like fun, soon the fear sets in. Not only is there a big plane and a little plane involved, but I had recently counseled an amputee who lost her leg in St. Barths and nearly died. I just wasn't feeling it. I went rambling on to get out of this trip anyway possible.

The good news is that while I rarely show my vulnerabilities, it seems that these women are supportive and really want to help me get over this. Right? I started to fantasize about taking that little teeny car size plane into St. Barths and upon arrival the ladies are high fiving me and congratulating me on fighting my fears. Support, acceptance, patience, and empowerment.. What are friends for? Right?

And then there were snakes. Why did I reference exposure therapy with snakes? Because beneath the surface of all this hand holding and support, I sensed several hedonistic women who would later forget this gathering, lose any sense of compassion and kindness, and prioritize themselves and superficiality above all else.

What Ramona doesn't seem to understand is that when I am relaxing with my friends or shoe shopping I really don't want my leg to be the focus at all. I want to live life like everyone else, without 80 million questions or a barrage of orders telling me when I can and cannot swim or for how long. While I am very open to questions about my prosthesis and accident, Ramona somehow thinks she has a say in how my prosthetic leg can and cannot affect me. Ramona has no problem using my leg as an excuse when she wants to leave a Miami swimming/yoga session so she can get to her next party to drink pinot ad nauseum. For whatever its worth I never "panicked" in Miami over my forgotten swimming leg. I adjusted to the situation and moved on. It was Ramona who used my little situation to get herself where she wanted to be -- which was out of the pool and into the car where Mario was waiting downstairs to take her partying.

Who is Ramona to tell me when my "disability" affects me or not? The fact is that when as a six-year-old my leg was churned in a piece of farm equipment and I thought I was going to die -- it has left some lasting psychological issues, which I wish were not there. You would think that anyone would understand that -- especially Ramona who was acting as if she was so concerned in Miami. She wasn't concerned, that was a charade to get me out of the pool because the yoga session wasn't all about her and she had a party to go to. It is interesting that Ramona has taken such an interest in my leg when I am going in a pool but she has such a hard time understanding that I have anxieties that trace back to an accident when I was six years old trapped in a machine which left me holding on to my life for two months?

This is the way it is. I have anxiety that interferes with traveling. Often I need to bring a relative or close friend to fly with me. I wish it were different and I am working on self-improvement. These are defining moments for real friendships. A friend has a problem. How will the others handle it? With compassion and understanding? Or self interest and mockery? A friend, in my opinion, is someone who is there for you during the ups and the downs. I appreciated LuAnn's suggestion to do the trip afraid and Carole who was very open minded to do whatever it would take to get me on the little plane. Heather was sitting next to me and told me that she felt the life being sucked out of me that day. It was not fun.

Wait a minute. Stop the press. Did Sonja Morgan just give me marital advice on how to keep my husband missing me? As the story goes, she lost her husband on her last girls' trip. Enough said.

That red lipstick. Yuck. Not sure what was worse: the lipstick or the party? We have beaten the wine situation like a dead horse. I should not have brought it up to LuAnn. However, up until this point I had brought it up to Ramona and not LuAnn. Luann was right, I was annoying. Jacques had a point as well -- he was there and had Ramona started to falter he may have been able to come in for the save.

Best move of the night was Jacques drowning me out with piano playing! I starting teasing him calling him "mean" in french. For the record, Jacques is the complete antithesis of mean.

I love Jacques. He is a doll, incredibly kind and hysterically funny. The man is gracious, sweet, and has heart. He has always been so warm and funny with Reid and myself. He and LuAnn make a great couple. Jacques is French and he has a charming French accent. Am I missing something here? I was not discussing Jacques' accent, nor do I understand what Ramona and Mario were talking about. I liked Heather asserting herself, however, she didn't know anything about the wine situation and she was jumping in without understanding the beginning, middle, and end of this little tryst. I still like the way she put herself out on a limb for her friends. Great woman that Heather. Strong.

Heather shouldn't have told Mario his wife was "crazy," even if its true. We all make mistakes with the slip of the tongue. I certainly do. . .often! Hopefully, when I am wrong I will always have the ability to self reflect, own it, and improve my character.

Thank you for reading and watching!!! You all go above and beyond with your kindness and heartfelt opinions.

Heather Says That's a Wrap

Heather thanks the "right side of the couch" for being real girlfriends.

That’s a wrap! Thanks to all you Yummies for tuning in to watch us every week and for tweeting with me through the good, the bad and the crazy. And thank you to the RIGHT side of the couch (and boy is it right!) Lu, Carole, and Kristen -- you continue to show me what true girlfriends look like.

The motherf---in’ end! Holla!

XX
H

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