The Real Housewives of Orange County has officially ended, with the airing of the final part of the reunion, last night. Cancergate was beaten into a bloody pulp, and Vicki Gunvalson was verbally beaten right along with it, by five women who were constantly competing for volume.
Brooks Ayers appears to be a toxic liar, and Vicki admits that she may have been duped by sleazy con. Brooks weighs in, denying the accusations, and advising Meghan to eff off. Vicki tries to open up about an inner struggle that she is trying to pinpoint, but is continuously interrupted. The bottom line is that no one knows if Brooks has cancer or not, Vicki admits to covering for a toxic influence in her life, and four women behave like Brooks had personally robbed them blind. Vicki confesses that Brooks has been verbally abusive, and in the most horrifying case scenario, might be healthy.
Vicki asserts that she needs to recover from the messy ordeal, and does not plan to reconcile with Brooks. Briana believes that her mother was manipulated, but the other women are not yet satisfied…like Vicki owes them a kidney or something. All of the women believe that Brooks will wheedle his way back in, but Vicki says no, and that she regrets the hurt she has caused, and hopes to win back the respect of her friends. Case closed…forever, I hope.
The mess is over, and we are all waving GOODBYE to the OC, and headed to Atlanta, which makes this girl HAPPY. What bugged me most about this past season?
1. Downer Storylines: Beating the life out of questioning whether or not a non-cast member has cancer, coupled with a painfully awkward marriage recovery following a tawdry affair, made the whole season uncomfortable. Almost every quip, remark, accusation, conversation, and argument revolved around these two subjects. When you find yourself yearning for the junkie ramblings of Kim Richards, or longing to be hushed by Yolanda Foster, you know that things have gone awry. Bravo constantly pushed us all into dark places, and into subjects that many believe should have remained off limits.
2. Obnoxious Ostentatious Blather: Terry and Heather Dubrow and their ridiculous resort construction was dreary, and one note. We were forced to watch the couple hawk their wares, adding to the new-money beast, that defines this duo. The yammer about formal powder rooms, $650k cabinets, and giant etched windows, that was supposed to make viewers gasp with wide-eyed envy, proved ineffective. Fans who drooled over David and Yolanda Foster’s kitchen and lemon groves, rolled their eyes at the Dubrow project, and it’s not hard to see why. I was actually covetous of the Dubrow’s snazzy RENTAL house, if that counts for anything. Heather inadvertently revealing herself as a sellout, by defending Tamra’s half-assed parenting, and proving herself a liar after admitting involvement in the Beador gossip, were the only bright spots in an otherwise dull Dubrow story. I miss the days of sassy Collette, and wish that some humble mommy reality was interjected during those few moments when Heather wasn’t whining about the daily drudgery of being filthy rich.
3. Episode #13: The “Sex Party” thrown by Tamra and Eddie Judge was an episode that I wish I could erase from my memory bank forever. I never thought any scenario could gross me out more than Tamra and Eddie’s soft-core porn bathtub scene, but Bravo and the Judges managed to pull it off. The promo-tape itself was cringeworthy, and the party was a tasteless horror show. Off-camera, viewers were learning of Tamra’s custody struggles, making the decision to film such a trashy event, mind boggling. We were expected to gawk at leeches sucking the blood out of Heather’s skeletal tummy, and giggle over the R-rated tomfoolery of a bunch of middle aged, trying too hard, ninnies. BLECH!
4. 3 Words…Meghan-King-Edmonds: I have made no secret of the fact that I am not wild about the addition of Meghan King Edmonds. I could rant about her loony, possessive step mothering, her self-absorbed and wildly inappropriate sleuthing, or juvenile ramblings, but it really just boils down to my belief that Bravo missed the boat with this casting decision. There is no way for a 30 year old with a teenage mentality, to hang with 40+ year old women, in any given scenario. Meghan and the rest of the cast were often talking past each other, with neither side truly validating or challenging the exchanges. Such Kelly Bensimon-esque non-communication is actually a pet-peeve of mine….and let’s face it…when Tamra dubbed Meghan her mini-me, and Meghan almost panted and licked her hand in response, she was a goner with me.
5. Not Enough Episode #9s: The cast trip to Moorea gave us a shot of getaway luxury, and those huts on the water were simply to die for. The skinny-dipping, careening golf carts, and drunken giggling were fun, and the scenery was lovely. I found myself laughing along with Vicki, Tamra and Shannon and their plastered pool floundering, and wished that I could be swimming with those gorgeous sharks. Isn’t that what we all want to experience when we escape with these quasi-reality shows? Instead, the lighthearted luxury fun ends, and we are treated to repeated commentary describing Shannon’s freaky obsession with colonics, colored by David proving his love, prison-guard style. TMI, and no thanks, Bravo.
With all of that being said, I enjoyed recapping this mess and giving my spin on a season that I am quite relieved is over. I don’t think that I’m the only one! On to Atlanta!