Cast Blog: #RHONY

You Can Lead a Horticulture But You Can't Make her Think

You Can Lead a Horticulture but You Can't Make her Think

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a delusional Housewife in possession of an audience must be in want of a ludicrous storyline.

Fine, I’m mixing Parker and Austen. I do it because I can.

Is it just me or does anyone else think Aviva is the most boring person on Earth? She's not at Sonja's event five minutes before her dull story erupts, again. Carole was mean to me, Carole isn't nice. Carole blah blah, blah-dee-blah. She'll tell anyone in her sight range. Poor LuAnn is, unfortunately, contracted to listen.

So OK, let's get this straight. In Aviva's "bloodbath" with "Princess Carole," Princess Carole apparently called her the following: Bitch, Psychopath, Liar, Bad Mother, plus three more she won't name. Notice how she starts her story in the middle, after all her insults are neatly out of the way.

Can we play a "Where's Waldo" with Aviva's lies? I'll send a book to the first person who spots one in each scene. I think that might be fun, though I might not have enough books.

Here's one in this scene, to start: I have never called Aviva a bad mother. Ever. I have also never badmouthed Vivvy's book, by the way. (Though she feels very comfortable trashing mine). In Viv’s head people lounge around on sofas and talk about her obsessively all day, like she does about them. But in the normal world, where real people live, they don't. They're busy with their lives. Do you want to know how much time I've spent thinking about Aviva Drescher's parenting skills? Zero. Why would I care? I don't. You saw the fight. Maybe her meds cause short-term memory loss? I said, "I would never talk about your parenting the way you just talked about my career." She forgets this is all on tape.

V.D. continues to show viewers what I caught onto after last season wrapped -- she is only nice person if you are going along with her agenda. She proves it again and again. Heather's in her sights next. Then Kristen.

By the way, here is what I called her, both behind her back and in front of it. I'd like to keep it straight: Liar, Phony, Bitch, Sick person, Mean nasty insulting bitch, Psychopath, Phony (again), Sociopath, Liar (again), Phony (again) Self-centered, Self-absorbed, Snobby, Stuck-up ill-mannered Jerk.

The redundancy is a little sloppy of me, but I'm OK with it. And I might want to add, so don't go anywhere.

You saw, in this episode, that they found me out! I’m not a girl's girl. In each city of this franchise there's always someone exposed as not being a girl's kind of girl. You can be called a crack addict, an alcoholic or white trash, you can sleep with anyone's brother or husband or dog, but if you are outed as not being a girl's girl, you're in deep s---. News flash: A girl's girl doesn't try to shame another girl about her age. A girl's girl doesn’t trash another girl's career. A girl's girl doesn’t Velcro herself to her husband, or make snarky comments about another girlfriend who's performing for 500 people to raise money for a great cause, or bore roomfuls of people with slanderous insults about another girl. So let’s not get it twisted.

Manda-Mindo (or whatever her name is) and Viv were rude during Sonja's show. Typical. So add that to my list: Rude. Aviva and Mindy-Man making snarky menopause jokes about Sonja is immature, and rude. If that's their version of girl's girls, they can have it. They can stumble off with their plastic cups of booze holding hands into their little girl's girl sunset.

So now we've gone through Phases 1 and 2 of the Aviva-Mojita Drescher Playbook:

1. Ingratiate yourself with someone, anyone.

2. Insult them in abhorrent ways.

And. . .you know what I'm going to say next. . .

3. Pretend you're the victim. Cry that no one supports you enough, or makes enough glitter or banners, or arranges their life around you, or makes toasts.

Aviva will not shut up about this. She flaps her arms and recaps her increasingly drunken version of her latest victimization to anyone who will listen. Which, thankfully, is fewer and fewer people. She thinks I'm "playing chess" with "a couple of different players." Tell me, does she ever make sense? First she steals from Kelly Bensimon and now she's stealing her lines from half the Housewives of RHOBH. This girl couldn't get her own material if a whole village of villagers were throwing it in her face. But more importantly, this is exactly what you think when you’re a person who looks at everything as an opportunity to manipulate and scheme.

Vivvy-vu, seriously. Please. Move. On. By the way, does her voice grate on your nerves? Did I already say that?

I loved the classy lunch, with the new Dreschers, the old Dubins and the, ahem, "Image Consultant" who pulls her dress up for Harry. "I'll show you my unwrapped package, right here right now under the table, if you show me yours." Maybe Viv's "Image Consultant" needs an image consultant. Or a longer skirt.

P.S. Is it really confusing why Vivvy married Harry?

Sonja figured everything out! God bless that nutty girl. Oh, the intellectual wonders of Jack Daniels. So all I had to do was toast Vivvy. I didn't even need to give her a party with banners, just one little toast at lunch and we'd all be best drunk friends. Why wasn't I ordering shots? Instead, I mistakenly assumed we were having an honest conversation -- my bad -- and I'm guessing I didn't deserve a toast for my accomplishments either because what I got was insults, slander, and finger-wagging.

These scenes are all taped. So, you know, people can see them. Which means everyone knows that I didn't call Vivs a "bad mother" and that Heather didn't threaten her or tell her to "watch your back." I think she repeats the voices she hears in her head and then is simply shocked when we don’t go along with it. I don't really care whether Vivi’s good, bad or boring, at anything. Snooze.

At LuAnn's, here we go again. Oh my God. Girls! You're circling the drain. I sincerely apologize to all of you for the excruciating boredom of this scene, this topic, and Vivvy Drescher herself. As you've learned already, writing is not interesting to talk about and Vivs literally can't stop talking about it! Talking about writing. Isn't it ironic? I wonder if there will be even one frame of video this season, actually showing her writing, or even anything closely related to it. Like maybe meeting with her "Village," or her "million hands," her "team," her "committee," her PR person, her Publishing House, anything? Do you get the feeling that maybe she talked this book? Because if talking were writing, the chick would be J.K. Rowling.

Let me put this in simpler words, and borrow a quote from my favorite Caburlesque star (about Aviva from last season): "The woman didn't split the atom."

She got on a reality show, she signed a book deal, she hired a ghostwriter. This is something many reality stars before her have done quite successfully, and many after her will do. I will say this one last time: when she told me about the book I congratulated her, then when she asked for my help to find a writer, I did. I helped. It wasn't a parade or a banner or ticker tape, true. I'm sure I forgot to tell her repeatedly how unbelievably amazing she is just by being the fascinating truly amazing and incredible marvel that she is.

What does Amana-banana the drunk think? Hmm. What is she even saying? Who the hell is she, by the way? Why is she always duct-taped to Aviva’s other side?

I didn’t badmouth Aviva's book, she badmouthed mine (again just last week!) I've never bad-mouthed her book. I didn't pal around with a gin-soaked, raspy-voiced Image Consultant to help me cut down my colleagues, either. She did.

That said, I do kind of admire her "career" strategy. I might try it. I spent this past weekend in North Carolina writing a piece about Nascar, and drove a race car. You know what that makes me? You guessed it! A Nascar driver!



Next week I'm singing an aria at Joe's Pub. I don't know which one, I don't even know what one is, but I'll sing it and be an opera star. It’s not rocket science, right? Hey, do you brush your teeth? I bet you do, and I bet you also floss. So let's get it on the record right now, lovelies -- we're all dentists.

I have to go now, I need to buy more paper for my resume.

The Widow's Guide to Sex and Dating is available here.

What Remains is available here.

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Dorinda: Hannah Will Always Be First

Dorinda opens up about her relationship with her daughter Hannah and her argument with John.

Mirror mirror on the wall, this one leaves me sad and raw! 

My first thought is OMG! MY VOICE IS IN THE INTRODUCTION! I didn’t realize I sounded so deep and…to be honest…a little sexy. Maybe Lauren Bacall-ish. Luann and I have those sexy speakeasy voices. And I thought I was just nasal, so thanks for that, Bravo!

So this started out a little intense with me, since I know about the fallout that ensues later on. #foreshadowing Heather and Carole looking cute as can be on the High Line, and BAM: We hear Carole is dating the young chef form Luann's house. A bit surprising when I heard about it, but I didn’t know all the complexities at play, as well as her dating habits. I felt this might cause some problems with Luann, as it is a little close to home in many ways. We'll see. I choose to stay out of people's dating lives, as a rule, since it’s none of my business. At this point in our lives (for Carole and I, at least), we make our own choices and what comes of it, comes of it. As Doris Day said, “Que sera, sera.”

The big question on Heather’s mind was, “Was I insulted I was not invited to Bethenny's birthday party?” The answer is simple: Hell. No. For a quick minute, I was a little miffed but then shrugged it off. Only because I wanted to get to know her better, but not because I felt I deserved to be or should’ve been. We only met once, and she doesn't even really know me. It would've been odd if she had invited me, because it would’ve been obvious it was out of obligation. I’m not going to say I would not have gone if I had been invited, since I know Bethenny probably throws a good party. Listen, Bethenny has a lot on her plate, and I think an event like her birthday crept up and surprised even her, so a lot of this was last-minute with no malintent. Must say, I did love the dancing on the tables bit. We old-school girls take any opportunity to get on a table and dance, it seems. It’s a generational thing, maybe? Or did we preempt Coyote Ugly without realizing it? We may not be as cool and laidback as the new generation, but we’re not necessarily uncool, either. We’re just as aware of our sex appeal; we’d just rather have dinner with friends and our partners than be FaceTiming and booty dancing…in public.

Dinner at Cherry was intense on so many fronts. And so unnecessary, right? I think at this point, I am overwhelmed and exhausted by so many things. I wish I hadn't sworn so much, but it was a combination of the frustration, the tension between Heather and Bethenny, the endless “how to rebrand death,” and, of course, the martinis. (Sorry, Mom! Sorry, Dad!)

 Give a me a middle-aged mountain dog over an overly playful puppy any day.

Dorinda Medley

Although it was nice of Heather to be concerned for Kristen, I knew there would not a subtle way of relaying the message to Bethenny…in front of an audience. Duh. Heather was trying to be a good friend, and I do feel bad about how Bethenny responded, but let’s face it: Bethenny does not have an open ear for that kind of stuff. We all have enough going on, and she has three times the amount. There really should be a sign that you read before you meet Bethenny that says, “Headlines only.” Heather needs that memo. I think that’s why I nervously chimed in and tried to use both my situation with John and Hannah as a distraction, and that I wanted to go to the birthday dinner as well. But truthfully…wake me up when this is over…too.

Anyway, not going to the birthday dinner, for me, was like that night I didn’t go to Beautique--it was just another good night’s sleep. I always welcome that with open arms. Besides, the girls were more like babysitters than dates that night, and I just don't do the cougar thing. Never have, never will. Give a me a middle-aged mountain dog over an overly playful puppy any day. Woof! Hannah knows this and she doesn’t shy away from reminding me.

I am happy to see Ramona getting involved with some new interests, both business and pleasure. I really love to see her confidence shine through.

The restaurant business may be a good choice for her, since she does love to be social and make money. And she’s great at both. Downtown is definitely a lot more fun and vibrant than the Upper East Side, so it will help give her a new perspective on things. A new, much-needed spin, so to speak. Surrounding herself with new people is a good move. Running around with the country club membership-only crowd is boring after a while…trust me.

OK. The SCENE WITH JOHN! Breathing, breathing, breathing…

Let me be very clear about this and get right to the point: Hannah will always be first. Always, always, always.

Here’s the thing…it is sometimes difficult when you date a man that A) Has never been married, and B) Has never had a child. I, on the other hand, have been married throughout my adult life and have been a mommy most of it. I only know motherhood and being a mother, and as a mother, we all know friends come and go, husbands come and go, but your children are forever. They're God’s gift and form a huge part of your heart. Additionally, they are always your child, no matter how old they get, or how old you get. For life, there’s a protective bond that outlasts everything and everyone. When I’m old and grey (silver grey by John Barrett, thank you very much) and living in Boca (which might actually be Palm Beach, to be honest), Hannah will be there with my Grande Finale Hairspray and Batiste Dry Shampoo to comfort me. (I just hope she remembers the very dirty Grey Goose martini.)

So, as you may have noticed, John and I sometimes have strong discussions about it, and it’s sometimes difficult for him to understand the constant juggling act I have to do. But, if he loves me enough, and trusts I love him too, love will prevail. (Right?) There is no love like a mother’s love, and all mothers out there know this is undeniable truth, as solid as bedrock can be. Was I a bit too harsh? Maybe. Was I giving him subtle bailout after subtle bailout every time he approached the subject? Yes. There’s only so much you can put up with until you blow a gasket. I blew two. And lost my appetite. (Glad he didn’t lose his, though. #eyeroll) I hope you didn’t! 

See you all again tomorrow! MUAH!

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