So after this week, one thing is clear to me: the sentiment of “forgiveness” is lost on some of us. To me, it was apparent when I tried to apologize to Heather at Kristen’s Smile Train Denim and Diamonds event. And now I’ll segue to stuff that matters: I was so proud of Kristen that night—impressed and proud. She looked her usual—beautiful and fantastic, and she really presided over the function with the grace and elegance of a queen. Smile Train is an amazing cause and one I really am proud to support. The fact that all the doctors involved in this organization provide cleft repair surgeries, 100% pro bono, is really powerful, humbling, and wonderful all around. Not only is the procedure a lifesaver in some cases, but in all cases, it allows children to live happier, more productive and successful lives. I really am so happy to be a part of such a cause. (Make sure you check their site and, if you can, make a donation—it all counts!) And thank you to those who bid on my coaster’d bedazzled jeans on eBay! (And to the one who won them, congrats and thank you! I expect an Instagram and Twitter pic next month! You provided new smiles to more children and changed hundreds of lives with just a simple eBay auction. That’s so great!)
But back to the drama:
I thought it’d be a good time to take Heather aside and try to clear the air, because we were both just getting more and more aggravated by the misunderstandings and clashes we’d had throughout the season and, in those situations, time is NEVER on your side. It’s never good to stew in something (unless it involves onions, carrots, turkey broth, dry sherry, and a mother’s touch, but that’s a different story). Well, as you may have noticed, this wasn’t exactly met with open arms. I guess even with forgiveness, Heather passes judgment. Oh well, I tried. I just hope she’s a little less “stiff” with the other girls she preached to all season about the rights and wrongs of their lives: Sonja (“I will never come to your house again!”) to Bethenny (“I think you’re a know-it-all,”) to Ramona (“GET UP!” and “Go take a walk…buh-bye Felicia!”) to Luann (“Wouldn’t you be upset?…I guess I have a different set of values and ethics!”). Kristen and Carole got the winning end of that stick, let me tell ya…
P.S. Isn’t Bethenny’s new apartment amazing? Yes, we see the branding mogul touches here and there, but that Skinnygirl red is a hot one. (Or is it “on fleek”?) It’s so nice to have a vision of a home and see it come to life—very few things are as fulfilling, I think. I think you all know how much thought and care I put into a home. It really is everything.
So let’s discuss this coffee reader situation. Can you believe it?! I was a plaid-covered goosebump, sitting there. It was so bizarre! Each of us had a “holy sh--” moment that left us gobsmacked (been wanting to use that word ALL SEASON LONG, gobsmacked). Anthony, Jax, Richard…these are all sensitive subjects and profoundly personal subjects at that! This woman was unbelievable. Of course, aside from being amazed—or gobsmacked—I was really moved. It’s sobering moments like that where one forgets and looks past all the bickering and realizes we’ve all had some pretty serious heartbreaking stuff happen, and maybe that explains our apprehension and short fuses when it comes to some things. We all pretty much suck at expressing ourselves, let’s be honest, but it’s moments like these, these change-your-life moments, that make us view the world and view life in general a little differently. Or maybe more than a little.
Carole and I had discussed traveling to London together, so after this coffee mud tasting, we were pretty psyched (HAHA…pun…) about going, despite the emotional rollercoaster it could take us on. I would’ve gone to Carole’s pre-London dinner, but I had so much anxiety about the London trip, I needed some quiet time at home to try and prepare myself. I lived in London for almost 10 years, and it holds a very special place in my heart. I feel like I did all my real growing up there, does that make sense? I lived there with my first husband, who was a Brit, so it was going to be my home—for good. Hannah was born there, and I developed some of my most treasured friendships while living in London. After I met Richard, we went back regularly, and he became part of my London experience. In a way, London was kind of our little playground. There are endless memories there with him, and I hadn’t been back since he died. It took some preparation for me to really build up the courage and lose the anxiety about boarding the plane. But looking back now, I wish I would’ve gone to Carole’s and met Adam. Dinner looked delicious, that apartment looked fabulously cozy, and everyone had such a great evening. (By the way, doesn’t Adam look like Jesus Christ in those classic Italian paintings? Right? He seems like such a peaceful, down-to-earth, comforting guy, too. And he can cook! I swear, I think of that every time, and I can see him wearing the robe and roaming around some mount somewhere, discussing fish and forgiveness. If I were in an intimate situation with Adam, I’d be such a prude and feel the need to bathe in holy water. I couldn’t say any “Hail Marys" or “Our Fathers” because that would just be really awkward…)
Also, happy belated birthday to you, Jax! What a cool gift, babe! I’m secretly a WWE fan and am obsessed with Divas, so…maybe I can borrow that belt for the dress I’m wearing on Saturday? You know I like all things sparkly!
Something I was pleasantly surprised by—at the JFK International Terminal, which is weird, since most surprises at JFK aren’t pleasant—was how quickly Carole and I developed a connection and quickly grew excited to embark on this experience together. It also gave us the opportunity to finally have one-on-one time. I could sense she was a little on the fence about me, which is fine, but I saw it slowly melt away, and we really had a true bonding moment in that Delta lounge. I think up until that point, we really didn’t know each other. Only what we’d seen across the room or heard from someone else. I learned so many interesting things about Carole, about some sad experiences in her past, and I think that by the time the plane landed in Heathrow, she’d learned the same from me. We talked the whole flight over…except for that 5th hour over the Atlantic, when we took a nap on the Martini Express.
Hey, it’s always 4 o’clock somewhere…
Until next week, cheerio!