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As excited as I was to visit Ireland, after Tamra hit me I was suffering from an emotional hangover for the remainder of the trip. Tamra, Shannon and Heather had all turned against me; Vicki was trying to play both sides. She wasn’t acting like the friend I had come to cherish. Thank goodness Meghan continued to act friendly towards me. That made the trip somewhat bearable.
Day three started with Meghan and I sharing breakfast. When she told me she wanted to visit Graystones to see if she could find a long lost relative, I said, “I’m in.” Hanging out in a quaint village was preferable to spending another morning with those mean girls.
After Meghan got lucky and found a member of the O’Toole family, who happened to be a look-alike for her mom, it was time for us to go meet up with the rest of the ladies at Baileys Farm for a sunset barbeque. I was dreading sitting down with these women the entire ride over to Baileys.
When we arrived at Baileys, the tension was palpable and showed on everyone’s faces. I felt I was being ostracized, as all the ladies ignored me. Hearing Tamra discussing receiving a Mother’s Day card gave me a segue to try to make amends. I felt compelled to try to clear the air and apologize to Tamra. My apology was heartfelt and sincere. As usual, my apology was not really accepted.
I am naïve sometimes. I thought that if I apologized for what I said, then Tamra would apologize for hitting me and telling me “F*** YOU!” As a life-long Christian, my faith taught me we are supposed to forgive those who trespass against you. I know Tamra claims I test her faith, but as a new convert she doesn’t seem to have learned the most fundamental lesson.
Tamra knew she had screwed up badly. I believe that she took the opportunity to say she was going to kill me and attend my funeral in two different instances as part of a strategy to desensitize and diminish the significance of her heinous act. Sorry Tamra, no amount of verbal gymnastics will soften the impact of your aggression. Regardless of what I said in anger, your anger towards me was beyond the pale and inexcusable.
Despite my attempt to apologize and get back into the ladies' good graces, I still felt like I was on the outside looking in. So, I just tried to smile and get along.
Baileys Farm was beautiful. The management and staff went out of their way to provide us with a lovely evening. Unfortunately, the ladies didn’t act with the decorum befitting the Baileys event. I was especially embarrassed when, in response to Vicki saying how she is bothered by the alignment of her nipples, Heather quickly calls her husband, Terry, to check out her friend's boobs. Really, Heather? Then you have the gall later to call me trashy? I know Terry is a plastic surgeon, but it’s not as though Vicki was seeking professional advise in a clinical setting. You did this at dinner with the Baileys staff looking on. I don’t know what kind of kinky stuff goes on in the Dubrow household, but if Michael found out that one of my girlfriends asked me to Facetime my boobs to their husband, surgeon or not, he would be beyond pissed. Rightfully so. Oh, and why, later, is Heather checking out and commenting on how my boobs looked while I was playing croquet with Meghan?
Before I leave the topic of the Baileys barbeque, would it really have hurt Tamra and Shannon to take a sip of Baileys liqueur out of respect for them hosting us? It’s not as though they weren’t drinking.
After the Baileys barbeque dinner I called it an early night and went to bed.
For me, the fourth and last day in Ireland included a bike ride around the grounds for Powerscourt, a picnic on the grand lawn and a sober dinner at the resort followed by lots of drama all the way back to the airport.
I had decided I had better keep my wits around me when dealing with these scheming women. No matter what happens or how hard they try to tempt me, I decided I was not drinking alcohol the rest of the trip.
At my “funeral” dinner that last night, Shannon started her shenanigans again. In addition to Shannon pushing drinks on me, Shannon was shaming me the entire evening and into the night for not drinking with them. I got a bad vibe at dinner as I watched Shannon, Heather and Tamra interact. Something about their body language and the sly looks they were exchanging was giving me the willies. I sensed am ambush was coming.
Remember back to the '70s party. Does anyone doubt Shannon’s willingness to scheme against me now?
The question is why? What were they up to? I believe that Tamra embarrassed herself when she hit me, that she, Shannon and Heather were trying to get me seriously drunk then agitate me to the point where I would lose my cool and act badly. They were hoping I would say and do something would make Tamra’s transgression pale in comparison. Too bad I was onto them from the start.
After dinner, I was tired and went back to the room to take a nap before packing to leave. Later that night I met with Vicki in her room. Vicki said she wanted to go to the bar with Tamra and I. We stopped by Tamra’s room and knocked, but she didn’t answer her door. So I went back to my room.
As you saw in the footage, while I was upstairs resting, Tamra, Shannon, Heather and Vicki went back to the bar and continued to get their drink on. Then, per her MO, Tamra started harassing me over texts. She was trying to cause problems between Vicki and me. She claimed Vicki said I was talking about Tamra behind her back. Later when they left the bar and returned upstairs, the ganging up continued. I left my room to deal with their blame game. However, unlike them, I wasn’t wasted. When Shannon claims that she wanted Heather to video me because I was on an angry rampage, it's another lie. As you saw, I was despondent and trying to understand what Tamra was accusing me of. At no time did I lose my temper, but I did shed some more tears.
When it was time to take the shuttle bus to the airport, it was the wee hours of the morning. Nobody expected all hell to break loose. When I got on the bus, all I wanted to do was listen to music on my headphones and get home. That entire evening, whenever I was in Shannon’s presence, she was constantly harassing me. Trying to get me drunk and provoke me. Tamra and Heather were in co-hoots with her the whole time. When I leaned across the aisle and whispered to Meghan, “These women can dish it out but they can’t take it,” Shannon butted in and began antagonizing me again.
As the argument on the bus escalated, Tamra and Heather joined the fray. They were ganging up on me, but I wasn’t worried, I knew I was very capable of defending myself.
At one point in the episode, Heather said I have a pattern. I say outlandish things and then apologize, admitting that I didn’t mean to say what I said, then ask for forgiveness. Okay, that’s true, but let's point out Heather's pattern.
Every time I have conflict with one of the other ladies, Heather decides she has to step in, take charge, and tell me what I can and can’t say, and how to act. She did this at the sushi dinner. She did it again in Ireland on the bus from the department store to the hotel, when she told me to “shut up and turn around.” She tried again during the bus ride back to the airport. Heather’s superiority complex kicks in and she assumes the role of puppet-master.
I said early in the season that I thought Heather is pretentious. In the wake of the accident in Glamis, I told her I was wrong about her. It turns out, though, I was right. On trip to the Dublin airport Heather’s pretentiousness prevails. Heather calls me trashy. Really? Heather chastises me for bringing up the subject of Tamra’s estranged daughter then has the audacity to say she feels sorry for my daughter (because Jolie has me for a mother). What a hypocrite. Heather, you know nothing about my daughter. Jolie knows she is loved beyond measure. Jolie is a thriving.
Finally Heather has the audacity to question my mental health? She calls me insane and says she thinks I am having a psychotic breakdown. Why, because I defend myself from this group who schemed against me? The last time I checked having a drama degree doesn’t qualify you to psychoanalyze anyone. You are a worse shrink than you are an actor.
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