Sunday, April 19, 2009
Life imitating Life.
"My name is Fluff Chance and I'm an addict.I'm addicted to Bravo's Real Housewives of New New City."
( other fellow addicts sitting in the "Rooms" ): "Hello Fluff Chance, you're in the right place. Welcome."
There...I've said it. The sweat is still running down my forehead but there is a sense of relief. Knowing that I'm among others who share my disease is a comfort. I no longer have to hide in my apartment at night watching the show over and over until a new episode airs on a tuesday night. The shame and self loathing is already lessening. I've heard that a group of fellow addicts will go for coffee after the meeting around 9 to talk , share their experience , strength and hope, but I worry about getting home in time to watch this past weeks episode. Oops , there I go again. The tug to follow gorgeous renegade Kelly Bensimon and pathetic social crawling Alex or Ramona, of the Bug Eyes, and 20 years experience in fashion....you know she went to F.I.T. and everyone on 7th Ave. KNOWS her....... Since when did social climbing send you tail first down the ladder? Tumbling ,like scaling the heights of society has gotten hopelessly confused. Much like cleverness and idiocy. Manners, and crass vulgarity suffer the same confusion. Let's not ignore Jill, the nightmare Yenta who has never had a satisfied moment in her life. If there is a Yeti in the deepest forest, she is a Yeta in the wilderness known as the Upper East Side.
I want to heal. I want to regain control of my life, regain my self respect but it's so hard when you've got a monkey on your back, more like 6 of them if you include Alex's husband Simon. He of the chic, debonair "man about town"coolness.Let's not forget his unerring eye for glamor,style and all things sartorial.
Though I can count Kelly as a acquaintance , I'm horrified at her decision to join that damaged cast, but the heart has it's reasons. It wasn't the smartest move . Now she has a huge audience that views her with disdain. She's honestly a very warm and kind person, but the darker side is what we see now. We all have one but we don't share it with millions of strangers. I know that I don't. I hope in some small way this will be a plus at the end of the day. Any press is supposed to be good press, but I never bought into that. I know first hand that bad press is just that, Bad Press. There is a breed of human who thrive on attention no matter what the cost. In a recession like this, I would save my self respect , even guard it and not squander it for the world to deride.
Call me old fashioned.
The pack of them are really neanderthals in Jimmy Choos not worth the time of day. The Countess whom I've witnessed first hand more than once is truly special. A big, boorish broad who specializes in taking whole tables of perfect strangers hostage. Gay guys are her preferred quarry. They nod knowingly as she holds forth like the Countess that she is, or was or soon will no longer be. It appears the Count has tired of her shameless flogging of his family's title to any and all who will listen. Too bad for her. She could have had it all. Now it's just the kids she never has time for, a book on Manners and Etiquette and a show that displays all of her social pretensions, lack of manners , empathy and little or no sense of the meaning of Etiquette.
" C'est la vie"....as her noble, soon to be ex-husband's aristocratic family would have said.
Bethany, the straight talking UN-married Housewife keeps me coming back. I have great regard for her. She is a person with a sense of humor, ethics, loyalty and self respect. Of all of the characters she seems real . I hope she has a future that will benefit from this train wreck. I picture her walking with her head held high, with a conflagration raging behind her on the screen. All the others will be toast but Bethany, single , searching for love and healing from the wounds that come from a dysfunctional family will prevail. I'm not a girl , or in need of a Skinny Girl diet book, but I would buy hers to show support. She just touches me in some weird reality show way.
Having "shared" with the group the details of my addiction it's time to repair to the coffee shop down the street. It's 9:30 and if I leave now I can get home just in time for those revolting opening credits .... I think I'm going to make a run for it.
I'll have to find a meeting during the lunch hour so there's no chance of my recovery interfering with my addiction.