Hello boys and girls! Welcome to storytime with Aunt Dori. Before we get started with this week’s adventure, a disclaimer: Everyone is crazy. Thanks.
Sooooo…our dinner at Park Side turned out to be more than a handful of bread rolls. It was a handful of bitchery, and I feel like I overstepped and should have just kept my damn mouth shut about Sonja—or better yet, just defended her more. Who am I to pipe in, really? I have gone through so much grief (sometimes literally) in my life, and the one thing I needed most was a good support system. She is a kind, sensitive, and incredibly savvy woman that knows what she's signed up for in life, and ultimately my job is to be a supportive friend. I somehow got caught up in the banter—or housewifery of it all—and for that, I am truly disappointed with myself. Not a pity party, just being honest and calling MYSELF out for being out of line. Fair is fair. Believe me, I only want the very best for Sonja and if she has a few fun nights out, then have it. No big deal. As B would say, let’s all get off her jock and let Sonja do Sonja. So Lady Morgan: I love you, I support you, and I am here for you—always.
The event at the Warwick Hotel for Luann’s Resident cover and the launch of her Countess Collection began with drinks in her sumptuous suite. Seriously, I could sell my apartment and live like Elaine Stritch, ordering room service, making phone calls, and looking for my sunglasses in that place. (Oh, how I miss seeing her wandering around the Carlyle Hotel…) This suite was truly beautiful. No, sumptuous! Anyway, the cocktail party was going swimmingly until fee fi fo fum, Ramona smelled the blood of a pretty girl… In she entered, clad in royal blue, going in for the kill… Look, Ramona likes to be direct and get things off her chest ASAP. She has always been like this, but I think with all the twists and turns life’s thrown at her lately, she’s trying to fine tune her skills. Of course, I was a little taken aback. I swear…one minute, I’m enjoying a drink, the girls and the suite, and the next, there MIGHT be a glass thrown again, and this one isn’t plastic. Thankfully, Kristen was gracious and left, knowing it’s not worth the headache to go through another confrontation—at least not BEFORE the party. Wait for a confrontation DURING the party. In fairness, I love love love LOVE Ramona, and she’s been an incredible friend to me. After all we've been through, I practically consider her my sister. She has been there for me through good times and bad, (and boy, there have been many bad times), and I will always be there for her. This time, though, I have to call FOUL! Yes, she wanted to talk to Kristen and express her opinion, but this was a shakedown à la Ramona. Sister… back it up and back it up QUICK.
The party was packed with people. Interesting characters, too, if you noticed. At one point, just before the smarmy priestess approached us, I almost introduced myself to the mannequin next to us. She was just standing there, staring at us, all awkward. Then once Bethenny showed up, it was off to the races. (Ever notice how Bethenny always arrives to a party as if she’s showing up late to a sample sale? Never seen such a cute, elegant trot from a girl in heels before. Pretty endearing.) As is usually the case, once she arrives, they go at her…Why? Why? WHY?! What is it about this girl that attracts women to her like bees to honey? I don’t get involved and just watch them carry on like children. I’m taking notes, though. And certainly taking names. I’ve literally seen groups of drag queens at a roast be more compelling and charming and pleasant than this tribe gets with the Queen B.
Ah. Turks and Caicos. How I thought I knew ye… As we pulled up, I thought we’d all be normal—you know, drop off the bags off in the foyer, go have a drink outside, get some sun, and BE NORMAL. That’s usually my experience: arrival, greeting, cocktail, short time to unwind, nice stroll throughout the house, exchange compliments with the service staff, admire the view, then either go to the room selected for you, or gingerly select the room you prefer. This was like seven desperate virgins were released backstage at a Chippendale’s preview at Penn Station. You’d swear we were scavenging for La Mer products and hidden spa certificates under the beds. Seriously, I almost felt like looking up the nearest Four Seasons just in case. Ultimately, I just want a bed, a TV, and a shower. If I want a view, I’ll GO OUTSIDE. But, in the end, I got a great room overlooking the beach, so thanks and you’re welcome.
Let’s start off with this: Ramona Singer works (or is it “werks?”) a canary yellow bikini like no one else. She is in amazing shape and looked amazing in that thing! I, on the other hand, try to stick to one-pieces from Eres swimwear. Elegant, well made, and keeps it all nice. (Here’s a little hint…Always hand wash your suits with a little shampoo as soon as you take them off, and they will last forever.) And if you want stripper shoes like Ramona’s—I mean, Carole’s—go to discountstripper.com. Seriously. Anyway, lend something to Ramona, and you won’t get it back, princess. Good luck with that.
I usually love staying in for the first night, because traveling is always a bit exhausting—especially these days. Plus, I like to get accustom to a new environment, not practically rape every crevice of it with wild Housewifery like the others. And, of course, I’m a foodie, so you know I was looking forward to dinner. I just didn’t realize Sonja was the main course. Sigh! Now, I know Bethenny meant well, but these people all seem to struggle with “time and place” issues. I mean, we had two minutes of peace before the Great Room Raid, followed by two hours of poolside aerobics. And here we are, Bethenny giving Sonja the third degree, in front of a live studio audience. Painful. Are some of the points valid? Yes. Is this the time and place? No. I was proud of Sonja for standing her ground and making that point clear. I think she’d had enough, and it’s officially boiled over. I get it, it’s tough. It’s hard to be open when you are going though stuff in life. There’s a combination of fear, pride and and the yearning for privacy that takes hold. I think Sonja wanted to just enjoy herself for a few days and not be the focus of anyone’s attention. Let’s give Ramona all the attention…she loves it! Or Luann…after all, she’s apparently having great sex that makes her feel complete again. (Don’t tell her I said this, but it’s really simple: She’s in love. She’s still in love. That’s why it’s so fulfilling.)
Anyway, I’m happy I was able to finish dinner and go back to my nice, little quiet room with the spectacular view, so I could turn on the TV, dose off, and sleep to the sound of crashing waves, not clashing titans…the stuff real dreams are made of.
Until next week!
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