Cast Blog: #RHONY

I Couldn't Help But Wonder. . .

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

I Couldn't Help But Wonder. . .

Carole ponders social media, truces, and Sonja's internship program.

I didn't think I was into this whole "social media" thing. Blogging, Facebooking, Tumbling, Pinteresting. What? I'm a writer. I like to get paid for my words. Plus I am old school -- you know, like pink While You Were Away slips and Sonja Morgan fax machines. I listen to vinyl albums at home (check out my crib). But old school is so 16,000 followers ago. New school is the new old school. And new school is like having recess all day. Two months ago, I didn't know what Twitter was and now I'm retweeting, livetweeting, and hashtagging quicker than a short fuse on the 4th of July. I communicate more with @suzyq485 and @wtf27 than I do my own mother. #himom.

A few days ago, my downstairs neighbor @trippswanhaus came upstairs with coffee and the news that @tomcruise and @katieholmes were divorcing. #shock. How fun to tweet I want to be wife #numberfour. We're just in my living room. It's just me and Tripp. So @trippswanhaus and I amused ourselves. We tweeted. Mrs. Tom Cruise #tomcar, #tomrad, #radzitom, Mrs. Cruisiwill. I could have gone on but then my sister @teresadifalco called. From Oregon.

"Hi Carole. What's going on?"

"I'm tweeting!"

"Yeah, I see that. Are you tweeting that you want to marry Tom Cruise?" @teresadifalco asked, as she scanned her Google alert.

Apparently it wasn’t just Tripp and me. A web site (Wetpaint) was also reading my tweets and now Tom Cruise and I are romantically linked in cyberspace. Forever. Me and Tom, just like that. I am both scared, and in awe of the power of social media. #irony

@teresadifalco banned me from Twitter, indefinitely. She doesn't know this, but I snuck back.

Showdown at Bethesda Fountain: Redux

[Insert Carrie Bradshaw voiceover here.]

On an island of nearly 2 million people, I couldn't help but wonder. . .will we ever all get along?

From the looks of it, maybe not. Is Ramona upset that Heather wasn't upset or is Heather upset that Aviva said she was upset or is Aviva upset that Ramona told Heather that Heather was upset? And didn't I too say at that now infamous lunch that I thought Heather was upset that we talked behind her back about her talking too much in front of us? I'm losing track of who is upset and why.

Aviva wants an alliance with the cool girls. Hello, Vivs? I'm #coolcarole. Heath is #gangsterchic. #keepitstraight.

I think the difference between the oldies and the newbies can be summed up in this one scene. While @IamHeatherT and @avivadrescher had a disagreement over who was cool and who was not and who was going and who was staying behind, neither of them mentioned their shellacked three-week manicure or their pinot-filled hat.

Meanwhile, @ramonasinger wanted to pow-wow with me about London. I wasn't expecting her to come in her shiny blue cocktail dress, but the thigh high leather boots, Jackie O sunglasses and mini-me mini-skirt really threw me off. Ramona is nothing if not surprising, and this is why I like her. She is also obviously still upset about not being invited and she doesn't even know that Vivs has told Heath she isn't cool. When I suggest to Ramona that she suppress her rage over the dis-invite, at least just while we shop, she looks at me like I'm a #unicorn and assures me she is perfectly calm. Did you see my double-take? Can you believe I made the famous Housewife hand gesture? Ramona's calm is HERE at Kelly Bensimon levels, and the rest of the world is here, with Bethenny. I promised myself I wouldn't do it and here we are -- only Episode 5 -- and I couldn't help myself. #reflex. I wished I had Mario's calming spray. In lieu of, I ordered the cheesecake.

All of that princess talk came about because I was planning a practical joke for @CountessLuann, to play out in London, and I wanted Ramona in on it. It involved titles, of course, and a curtsy. I wanted to trick LuAnn into curtsying to me, in public. Ramona loved the idea of LuAnn curtsying, which is why she curtsied, although it could have been the pinot. I can't be sure. I didn't go through with the joke. I chickened out, so LuAnn never curtsied but Ramona did. And I think I like the word "curtsy."

Instead I went all Jersey Housewife on everyone. Don-t f--k with Cinderella. Yeah that's right. I have Franklin Lakes street cred, too. I hung out at the Paramus Park Mall and I went to Asbury Park after prom. Watch out for my tag line next year: "Life is short, bring on the drama." #iheartjersey

London Hollywood Calling

Like I promised last week I was sticking close to Ramona. Walking to Curve we were practically holding hands. I wasn't going to let her out of my sight, but then I had that work call to take and sure enough -- I walk out to the street and Ramona walks Heather to the couch. I'm still confused over who is upset at whom but when I walked back in the store, Ramona bounced out of the dressing room right into my arms when she heard the commotion. You see, Ramona knows to stick thisclose to the drama. She matched my up-and-down jump with a #pogostick and raised me a case of pinot. #target

Date with Destiny

It's hard to watch yourself on a date. It's a blur, it's a swirl, it's a swivel seat. Peyman may not have looked 31, but I look like a 12-year-old at the Woolworth's counter waiting for my banana split. Like I said, it's hard to watch yourself on a date. It's also hard to watch yourself say #pussy. Full disclosure: I grew up Democrat but might be Republican by injection. #datedatexan

Sonja's drink date with Aviva goes better than mine when they discover they both love bows and also Ramona. Sonja loves Aviva, too, but for some reason is keeping the truffles off her truffle mac and cheese muffins for Aviva's anniversary party. Is there more to this story? I can't say.

Sex, Dating, & Fax Machines

My favorite scene of the week again involves @sonjatmorgan. #ilovesonja. How can you not? Even American Express sent her $1.47 worth of love. But why didn't I know Sonja when she had five houses, a yacht, and 75 in staff? I'm getting the bankrupt, tap water drinking, poop pill popping Sonja, the one with only one to three interns a day.

And, speaking of interns. Last week I launched a #stealingmillsaps campaign but that was before I knew there were three. I need between one to three interns a day, too, even though my apartment is all on one floor. #stealingnaomi #stealingtyler #stealingmillsaps. In addition to faxing, I can teach them about the answering machine, the virtues of a VHS tape, and introduce them to my P-touch label maker. Also, of course, Twitter. We will spend lots of time with the #tweet.

Until next time, loves.

#peace #pottymouth #rickperry #cool

You can buy my book What Remains here. Contact me on my website here. Of course, follow me on Twitter here, Facebook here, Pinterest here. Follow my sister in Oregon here and even though his tweets are lame follow Downstairs Tripp here.

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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