We open with Aviva and Reid talking in their bedroom about how much they are over this whole stupid thing and they want to escape. Downstairs, everyone is making fun of Aviva and Reid. Mr. Personality himself, Tyson – he the man of the non-functioning facial muscles and monotone voice — asks his equally stone-faced tabla rasa girlfriend of 7 years Rachel, if she even knew “intergalactic robot cyborgs existed?” Might be funny if the lack of intelligence wasn’t so annoying. See, if one is a robot, the cyborg part would be redundant since a cybernetic organism would be part human and part robot. So if you’re going to call someone robotic — oh, never mind, Tyson, just go condition your mangy hair. Meanwhile, Rachel can keep telling everyone that Aviva and Reid‘s sex life is not perfect. As if she would have ever come close to having perfect sex in her color-me-grey world in order to judge Aviva and Reid.
The intercom commands everyone to the morning exercise. Guess what? It’s going to be all about them. As if up to this point every exercise hasn’t been about them and has focused on the couples. Seems to me, all I hear is selfish complaints each week. But, Jim and Liz know best don’t they? So let’s see how they’re going to up the “world revolves around me” nature of this boot camp, shall we?
Jim explains, “Today is all about YOU!” and he points his finger on the YOU part for emphasis, like those late night used car commercials from The Bronx. Jim continues, “. . . you guys are going to share about a time –” (Jim’s grammar kills me!) ” — when you were a victim, when an injustice happened to you, or something that you may not even know it’s impacting you today, but it is. You’re going to go back to the youngest age you can think of, when something or someone hurt you.” Uh, excuse me? You’re going to open up wounds then use your pop psychology bit on them, and all will be fine? Well, okay. Let’s see how this goes.
First, Liz understands why Jacob is crying about his father not being there. Then Jim gets Syleena crying about sexual abuse from one her family members. Then Liz gets Kiwane crying about wanting to borrow money from his father but he couldn’t. It gets more stupid from their. Tyson cries about being a boy scout and another kid threatening him. Natalie cries about her Dad being skinny and sunken in. Natalie cries about being teased at school. Heidi cries — well, no actual tears come out — about being molested when she was two or three, then again at five or six. What? Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s just for dramatic effect, and Liz tells her to tell herself it’s okay.
Spencer didn’t have a childhood memory, so he tells how when he started to embarrass his family with his reality TV exploits, they wanted him to change his last name. Aviva tells her story, which we’ve all heard on RHONY and isn’t crying, and even though Heidi didn’t have to cry for Liz to believe her, she’s harassing Aviva to cry. Thank goodness Aviva doesn’t fall for it and maintains her dignity.
Great exercise everyone! You are now all caring, empathetic, human beings sans bagage. Voilà!
Natalie tells her little friends she wants to write all over Aviva‘s posters. So much for the exercise! Spencer gets her a pen. She writes “fake” on Aviva‘s face. Mature. Where’s Jim and Liz? **crickets** Then Natalie and her sycophants decide they are going to demand Aviva and Reid appear before them. Like Syleena says, “it’s a matter of respect.” Respect as in writing on someone’s poster. Anyway, the hypocrites harangue Aviva and she shuts them down when she tells Rachel she would “never wait six years for a man to put a ring on it.” Then the intercom interrupts and calls them all into the living room.
Everyone is told to focus on the person that makes them angry. I guess they still have baggage? Boy, this pseudo-therapy stuff is really working! First up, Spencer starts crying because he’s angry at reality show producers because they kidnapped him, threw him in the front of a VW Bug, drove him over bumpy dirt roads and dropped him off in “The Hills.” Heidi starts the dry crying routine. The helper elf tells him today he is a man. He went from being “16 to 31.” You can’t make this stuff up. Spencer‘s new found maturity is heard in his confessional when he tells us he’s not ready to forgive those evil reality producers for messing up his great life.
Next, Syleena has to pretend that the grammatically challenged Jim is her father in some screwy role-playing exercise, then pulls the coup de grâce and brings out her real father. They fight. Big deal. Feels like a set up. Syleena doesn’t seem that surprised. Jim steps back into the role of pretending to be her Dad so Syleena can forgive him — Jim — her real Dad — oh, whatever!
Now Heidi, whom you remember just told us she was molested, decides the person she most angry at in the whole world is Lauren Conrad. Who? Exactly. Surprise! There’s Lauren Conrad and they start fighting. This is going well isn’t it? What Lauren had to do with her being molested at two or three or five or six is beyond me.
Get the picture? When they couldn’t get the real people, we’re stuck with Jim and Liz role playing. It’s just plain embarrassing. Especially when Jim puts his hands on Spencer‘s skull like Clark Gable did to Vivien Leigh in “Gone With the Wind.” Just plain embarrassing.
The good news? There’s no evaluation tonight! The bad news? Jim tells them to go inside and support each other. Has he met these people?
Aviva and Reid decide to go to bed, which is the cue for everyone to support each other like Jim said. They all decide to make lots of noise and yell Aviva‘s name so they can’t sleep. Good work, Jim.
Next time, kids.
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