Cast Blog: #RHONY

Women Behaving Badly

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

Women Behaving Badly

Aviva is disgusted by the ladies behavior (and attitude about Reid) in St. Barths.

I find this trip appalling for so many reasons: Women abusing themselves with alcohol and god knows what else. Women behaving like mean teenagers thinking only of themselves and bullying others whenever they get the chance. Watching this episode makes my stomach churn. I would have hoped that women in their 40s and 50s had evolved to a place of kindness, compassion, and decency, having had children and some life experience.

Here is some backstory. I did not want to go on this trip to St. Barths. OK. . .maybe you knew that part. I was petrified of the small plane, blah, blah, blah. I know people who don't have a fear of flying don't get it. . .but it is very real to me. Fortunately, at last minute I was able to get some family members to watch my children and Reid was able to come for the weekend and fly with me. Ramona thinks that this makes me too dependent on Reid, but aren't you supposed to be able to depend on a loved one when you need help with something? It was simple. Reid would fly with me to St. Barths and then go and do his own thing while I spent time with the ladies. (Note: the ladies knew very well that Reid would NOT be spending any time with them. He would rather drink paint.)

Next, Carole insisted that Reid and I stay in the house (we could have just as easily stayed in a hotel). I was so excited to go on the trip and fight my fear of small planes. With Reid at my side, I was still petrified but it felt doable. Not to mention that one of the women I counseled recently lost her limb in a boat accident in St Barths (no doctor or hospital to be found during a horrific accident -- terrible story).

What is most disturbing is, if some of the ladies felt so strongly about Reid not being there, why didn't anyone call me??? Why didn't someone call me and tell me that they felt uncomfortable rather than sitting around and hatching a plan to hurt me? Then at least I would have had the choice to come alone or not come at all. It was as if some of these women were setting me up.

The real issue is what were the ladies so worried about? Wasn't the dynamic of a female trip altered from the start given Russ' presence and random local guys, invited by some of the ladies, coming and going? This was not some trip about women coming together and bonding to discuss intimate female matters.

How could those women possibly be so selfish and mean to debate as to WHO was going to ask my husband to leave this house? These are supposed to be my friends? Talk about being void of manners and graciousness. What happened to welcoming people with warmth and generosity no matter what? What happened to common decency? What happened to compassion? Would you, under any circumstances ask a friend's husband to leave a home or vacation spot? Once he is there? Who does that??? And Reid was invited by Carole, our hostess. . .

Who were Ramona and her sidekick to utter a word at all??? And let's not forget that Ramona KNEW that Reid was coming before I ever left New York and, believe me, he was not interested in being around this group of pent up cougars. We had discussed it! The house was HUGE with separate entrances/exits for each room So what was the problem? Why such insensitivity towards me and my family?

The ganging up on LuAnn to shame and intimidate was terrible. Did you see Ramona berate Carole for having Russ over??? Ramona was concerned that it was HER first night??? This was Carole's trip, and she hadn't seen her boyfriend in months!!! Does Ramona ever stop and think of others? Who behaves this way to a friend? To a hostess??? This looks like spring break for cougars. Not my style and certainly not worth dragging my husband on the plane for.

This trip was trashtastic filled with immature, selfish women. What didn't Ramona and her sidekick want Reid to see? Their selfish, partying, hedonistic behavior? There were guys flying all around this house from all different angles. Obviously some of the ladies did not want my solid marriage interfering with their debauchery.

Hindsight is 20/20, and I succumbed to peer pressure. I should not have gone on this trip. Who would want to be on this trip? Yes the island and house were beautiful, but who would want to be there where peoples' behavior was so gross? The inmates had been let out of the asylum and I was headed to a golden prison.

With regards to last week, thank you for all your love, tears and support for Jake and the children of One Step Ahead. Your comments, contributions, love, and generosity make it all worth it.

Follow me on Twitter (@avivadrescher) and Facebook.

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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