I cannot even begin to describe how boring last night’s episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was. What did Brandi do? She taped a podcast with Vivica A. Fox. That is what we watched her do: We watched her curse into a microphone and talk about how much fun she had at a moderate celebrity’s birthday party. The only thing more boring than hearing about someone else’s birthday party is listing to a story about someone else’s dreams.
And let’s not forget the excitement of Eileen, the wad of gum under a bar that you put your finger in when looking for a hook to hang your coat. Eileen, that little paper container of salt that comes in a plastic bag with a knife, a fork, and a super-flimsy napkin, rehearsed her lines and made a smoothie. Oh, the riveting television of smoothie-making! This is just so uniformly bland that there is no magic to be wrung from it. This episode was like tomato soup in a Panera Bread bowl, but even that's more interesting.
Who else is even on this damn show anymore? Oh, Yolanda Bananas Foster! You’d think she’d have some excitement, considering her daughter was arrested for a DUI last episode. How did she respond? By showing up at her husband’s studio with a pic-a-nic lunch. Yes, in a basket and everything, like she’s the Dutch Yogi bear. Alright, I love me some YBF, but this whole scene really bugged me. First of all, she made her husband, David Foster Wallace, lunch, and she brought it in a picnic basket because she feels like if she doesn’t do these things for him, he is going to leave her for someone younger and thinner who can afford to eat more than lemon slices with maple syrup and cayenne pepper on them. That makes me a little sad.
Second, I hate how she’s all, “I can always trust David to take care of my kids when I’m not around.” That is probably true, but isn’t David the one who is always flitting around the globe in that giant plane with a studio apartment in it? (Seriously, that plane is so big, it could have a subletter.) He can never show up for events or anything because he’s always going to Hawaii to help Barbra Streisand clear her throat or something. And she expects this guy to be on call for her kids when they need him? I’m glad it worked out in this situation, and David may be dependable, but he certainly doesn’t seem — hmmm — available?
Lisa went to Palm Springs to get a star on the Walk of Stars. She invited Lisar, whom I find to be incredibly amusing because she thinks that wherever stars are given out, she’s in her element. You know, Hollywood, Palm Springs, second-grade classrooms, Michelin guides, movie reviews, the People’s Choice Awards (do they give out stars or sadness?), you know, just about everywhere.
Lisa also invited her two dogs, Ken and Giggy, and her gay friends Twirl, Pose, and Loafer Lighter. I mean, Lisa is friends with the gayest homosexuals this side of the Liberace Museum. These three work in Palm Springs as a florist, a hairstylist, whatever it is that Kevin Lee the wedding planner does, and then one guy who used to be in the military but had to quit because he wanted to wear shirts with prominently placed pink ribbons on them. And then Lisa shows up at her star-garnering ceremony and Lance Bass is there. Lance Bass doesn’t have a dye job as much as he has one highlight that seems to be bleeding across his entire skull. It’s sweet that Lance has enough of that ‘N Sync money left to keep himself in highlight.
Oh, Lisar also looked into a storybook and told us the plot of Into the Woods. I wish Lisar really was in Into the Woods. She would be so great as Milky, the plastic cow that Jack drags around for most of the first act. Or a glass slipper. Or the lyrics of a Sondheim song you never quite understand. I wish, I wish for this, and wishes come true … not freeeeeeeee.
Kyle did the one thing that she is exceptionally good at. Oh no, wait, she is good at two things. One is coming home from vacation, which Kyle is adept and prolific at. Yet she did return home from Spain and bring her dogs Chanel dog bowls as a treat. That is not a gift from Spain. You can get Chanel dog bowls from any damn store on the planet. Couldn’t she at least get them something in the shape of a sombrero? Wait, that’s Mexico. Well, you know what I mean. Couldn’t she get them Don Quixote bowls or something? Maybe some Spanish fly?
Kyle exercised her other remarkable skill, which is making everything about herself. Did you notice how she just insinuated herself into Kim’s daughter’s wedding? “In our family we’re all very close, and aunts are basically like mothers, so I practically raised her, and if it’s her big day, then it’s really my big day because I kinda raised her, so welcome to my big day!” Don’t you just love how Kyle was letting it be everyone’s big day but Brooke’s? She tells Kim, “It’s your big day!” While it is miraculous that Kim dragged herself out of the primordial ooze of drink and painkillers and has survived to see any of her daughters get married is a bit of a shock, that doesn’t mean it’s her big day. She can be excited, sure, but don’t take any of the attention off the bride, Kyle. It has to be about someone else for a change.
Yes, Kim’s daughter Brooke was marrying a nice, handsome gentleman named Thayer, which isn’t the name of a human but more like the name of your favorite Sean Cody model (just kidding, everyone’s favorite Sean Cody model is Brandon). It was a really sweet wedding. Kim looked very nice and had great hair. It’s always a victory for Kim when she arrives in public and there isn’t like a wrapper for a roll of Tums sticking out of her wig. And Kathy Hilton was there and managed to save the wedding by not opening her hellpit of a mouth even one time.
Kim was so happy to be there. This was one of those days that picked her up off the floor. Thinking about his day literally got her to raise her head from the bathroom floor, tile imprints all over one cheek, and realize that she had some things worth living for, some events she wanted to see. Kim was clean and sober, and she was at her at her first daughter’s wedding, and she wasn’t embarrassing anyone. That was a victory.
At the reception everyone was dancing and having a good time, waiting for the cake to be cut, and Kim sat down for a minute to rest her feet, her chair on the edge of the dance floor where everyone was hoping the DJ wouldn’t play the chicken dance. She looked out and saw her daughter Brooke dancing with Thayer, and she couldn’t help but think of the day she brought Brooke home from the hospital, that fragile little thing in her arms that she didn’t know what to do with, that she was sure she would break from loving it so much. She thought about Brooke standing up in her crib, a light in her eyes at her accomplishment, or maybe it was just a marvel at the world that everything was happening and each day would get better. She thought of it all, birthday parties and softball games, parent-teacher conferences and nights at the pizza joint. She was at so many of them, but she missed so many, too. Some she was present for but missed anyway, fogged off from her children behind a mist of sadness and pill haze.
Then she saw Monty, her first love, in his tuxedo as he crossed the room. From far away he looked just like he did on their wedding day, with his thin face and his silken wisps of blond hair. But as he got closer, his face came into focus, and she saw the wrinkles as if they were being drawn on, and she saw the frailty of his gait. She never thought he would get cancer. When she said she would love him for the rest of his life, she never thought his would be ending first. She never thought any of this would be possible.
He got close to her and her eyes started to well up, and she dabbed at the base of them, trying not to ruin her makeup. “What’s wrong, babe?” Monty rasped as he sat down next to her. She didn’t know what to tell him, thinking about Brooke’s life as it was beginning and his as it shuffled ungracefully toward its end. Maybe she shouldn’t have ever gotten up from that bathroom floor. No, she thought immediately, she can’t let that win. This was all good, this was all worth it, even the brittle bones she could feel in Monty’s hand as she reached out and touched it. “It’s just …” Kim said, trying not to blubber. “It’s just that I’m here, and …” she threw her hands up in the air and didn’t know what to do with them or the rest of her body or her mind. She just looked at Monty with her wet eyes softening, and she knew that some day soon, it would be too late to finish her sentence.