Cast Blog: #RHONY

Moving Forward

LuAnn wishes everyone would leave what happened in St. Barths in St. Barths.

We are back from St. Barth's and I’m so glad to be in New York City with Jacques and my family!

I wasn’t surprised that Sonja and Ramona were upset about what Aviva said especially the painful parts but I believe in moving forward in life and I hope Sonja and Ramona forgive Aviva for her angry outbursts. Aviva has apologized to both girls for what she said but she still hasn’t really moved on. To me, it would be better for Ramona and Sonja to forgive Aviva even if they can’t forget the things she said rather than waste time going over and over the situation at parties where they should be enjoying themselves.

I was surprised to hear that Aviva was a runaway bride. She’s a lot stronger than she seems. It’s better to end an engagement than to marry the wrong person and get divorced shortly after the wedding even if she inconvenienced a lot of people.

I appreciate Heather’s concern about the Jacques situation but she needn’t worry about us. I called Jacques from St. Barths the day after I got a ride home from Tomas and explained everything. He trusts me and knows that I would never do anything to hurt our relationship. My relationship with Jacques is private and how we work things out shouldn’t concern the other girls.

Aviva is entitled to her opinion but I think it’s far-fetched that Ramona was using Sonja to make her self look better. Ramona and Sonja are old friends and they like to spend time together to party and gossip, which is what girls do on vacation. I don’t see any maliciousness in Ramona’s friendship with Sonja but I think that when they get together, they sometimes go overboard with pinot!

Sonja loved her husband and she enjoyed the life they led as a married couple but that is over now and she needs to move on with her life. I am surprised that her ex is being so difficult with reaching a settlement. Surely it’s better for their daughter that Sonja feel secure financially and that they continue to live in the same house so I’m confused as to why her ex is being so stubborn. I hope that they come to a settlement soon so that Sonja can focus on rebuilding her life.

What did Aviva think she would accomplish by rehashing her grievances at how she was treated in St. Barth’s with Sonja for the umpteenth time? Sonja was done with subject and still hurting from Aviva’s choice of words plus Sonja is dealing with her own issues. I know that Aviva thought she was being helpful by telling Sonja that she overdoes it with the partying but Sonja isn’t going to be receptive to anything Aviva has to say right now because she hasn’t forgiven her for the things she said in St. Barths.

Until next week, bisous!

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

Read more about: