Real Housewives of Orange County: Middle-Aged Mommas Get Their Groove On. Kind Of.

Dear Gasmii,

This week our middle-aged mommas do their best to stay up late and shake their booties for us. I’m giving them an ever-loving ‘A’ for effort, cuz it’s hard to put in a long day of strutting, drinking, eating, bitching, gambling, slutting, and dancing, when you’re used to gently passing out by 9:00 pm. But don’t think our ladies are working it alone. Nope, they’re getting some transformational help.

Airbrush anyone?

This week I’m going with Twinkies and beer, join me if you will. L’chaim!!

We start this week with Tamra, her mom, and her mom’s newly tightened face having lunch together. Luckily mom was having pleasant dreams when her skin was stretched and frozen, because her expression isn’t going to be changing for a while. Tamra explains that her mom’s face is still a little bit swollen and her eyes are going to open a little bit more, but all in all Tamra is thrilled that her mother looks like she just lost fifteen years and a whole range of facial expressions.

Am I crazy for liking the original better?

Sadly, Tamra is still in the throes of her parental divorce trauma. She’s currently at the same age her mother was when dad up and left them to throw himself into the arms of mom’s best friend, leaving her mom “just an empty soul”. Huh? Thankfully, Tamra isn’t going to spend too much time dwelling on her trauma; she’s saving that for next week. This week, Tamra’s all about fixing her mother’s empty soul problem.

Tamra knows that if her mom doesn’t have a hubby to see her through her golden years, then Tamra’s going to be stuck taking care of her in her old age and there’s only so many times that she can send her mother back to the aftercare facility. But, now that mom’s looking more the thing, Tamra’s got big plans for her. She’s signed her up for match.com and if that doesn’t work, well, her mom’s fresh new updated look is being televised on national TV along with the fact that she’s ready and willing for some romantic action. Tamra’s pretty much planning on sitting back to wait for the bidding wars to begin. Of course, her mother is going to need a cute, catchy username for the site. You know, like 2sexy4u or Iluvsunsets or ‘I’m the mom of the hottest housewife in Orange County’. Yeah, Tamra, that last one’s gonna be perfect for guys that are suffering from mother/daughter fantasies. Oh well, moving on with the embarrassingly personal questions. What’s her mother’s best body part? Mom has no doubt that she’s got hot legs, but her body’s pretty hot, too. LOL Go mom! Tamra, is a little shocked at her mother’s lack of modesty. After all, if you consider how really, really, hot Tamra truly is, then you know that she’s just being modest when she calls herself the ‘hottest housewife of Orange County.’

I’m talking the mother-fucking world, Bitches!!

Possibly distracted by thoughts of her inner outer beauty, Tamra has a little brain fog and for a moment seems to forget which way her mother swings. But no matter, with her mother right there she can ask, “do you want a man or a woman?” Mom kind of blinks, but with her newly stretched skin it’s kind of hard to tell how she feels. Who knows, maybe she’s playing with the idea opening up her horizons. I can totally see Bravo launching a ‘Golden and Gay Girls’.

Bea Arthur was hot!

While Tamra is busy pimping out her mother, her bestie Vicki is going shopping for scrubs with awesome Breana. But Vicki’s just not feeling it, because the scrubs that Breana wants are so bland, and green, and pajama like. Vicki’s more into the scrubs with cute little designs, if only they had a little glitter on them, and the nursing staff would sing and dance between emergencies. She finds some croc like shoes with cutouts on the top and holds them up for Breana to see, cuz they’d be really cute with a few rhinestones sprinkled over them. Sadly, those holes wouldn’t work too well with the blood and gore that Breana has to wade through. Vicki freezes at the thoughts of blood and gore, while her chemically rewired brain begins to shortcircuit. What?! You have blood and gore in the emergency room?!? Holy Crap!! #@#@#!!!

I had a little moment.

OMFG, does every single housewife have to go back to their roots this season? While Vicki’s riding out her crack induced/diet pill popping seizure, our producers take us to Wisconsin to visit with Jeana’s family. It’s been a while since Jeana’s been back to see her parents, and Colton hasn’t seen his grandfather since he was a baby. It’s a damn good thing that Jeana’s doing this reality show, or it might have been another five years before she flew home, and Colton might never have seen his grandfather. Seriously, Jeana’s father isn’t doing too well. He’s lost most of his vision due to diabetes and he isn’t exactly in a state to get up and dance, much less walk to the car, or hop on a plane and fly to California. But Jeana’s not one to let a little thing like blindness and infirmity get in the way of what she wants, or more specifically doesn’t want. And, Jeana doesn’t want to spend alot of time visiting in Wisconsin, so her dad’s just going to have fly out to Orange County where everything is shiny, new and orange. After all, Stevie Wonder travels the world and he’s blind.

So are you saying you don’t like Stevie Wonder?

The highlight of this segment is Jeana’s sister, who is down-to-earth and funny. Jeana’s parents apparently thought so too, because Jeana tells us in a matter of fact voice, devoid of any human emotion, that her sister was the favorite. Then continuing on in the same weirdly detached manner adds “like Colton”. Not that I can blame Jeana for preferring Colton to Shane, but the public statement still seems a little harsh, especially to Kara. Now that Jeana’s been sucked into popping the same diet pills that Vicki’s been taking, I’m kind of wondering if they aren’t having a weird side effect on her.

No Jeana! Don’t go to the dark side!

While I’m worrying about Jeana turning into a bony assed speed freak, she’s reminiscing about what a great dad her father was. This little stroll down memory lane, leads Jeana and the entire viewing public to wonder why the fuck she didn’t marry someone like her dad instead of Matt. And, now that he’s blind and infirm, why doesn’t she get out once a year to visit?

Over at Lynne’s abode, she’s having a few martini’s with her mom, which is kind of a nice change from the mimosas she normally drinks when she’s home during the day. Lynne takes advantage of her mom’s visit to ask her advice about how to parent her nightmare demon spawn, Raquel. And relays the tale of how, at the end of housewife/beach friend party, she discovered that her spawn had been downing cocktails like an open mouth drain at the bottom of a fountain. Now, It’s possible that the editing had something to do with this, but it seems like mom and dad noticed a little earlier in the party that Raquel was guzzling their gin, and they chose not to do anything about it. Not to mention, the little issue of demon spawn’s friends with the blurred faces. As usual, Lynne’s concern and my concern around this issue are widely divergent. Lynne is worried that Raquel is just too little to drink. And by ‘little’ she means that if the demon spawn wore a size 8 instead of a size 2 her drinking would probably be just fine. Lynne, honey, generally when people say that somebody is too little to drink, they are referring to age not physical size. Amazingly enough, Lynne’s mom seems to have a clue, and even goes so far as to suggest that Lynne needs to stop giving her daughter everything she wants regardless of the way she acts.

Darling, you’re a fucking idiot.

It turns out that Lynne’s not into disclipline because her dad was a military officer who ran a pretty tight ship. Lynne didn’t seem to have taken to his regimental ways so she’s compensating by being more lenient with her kids, as in ‘fuck the ship, let’s all just paddle around in the water and have a good time’. Our editors obligingly supply us with a family photo of Lynne and her parents when she was growing up, alongside some other children with their faces blurred out. Me thinks that Lynne’s sisters don’t want to have anything to do with Reality TV.

Despite her father’s rigorous military approach to childrearing, Lynne still managed to drink when she was a teenager. We know this because she’s been so eager to share her war stories with her own daughter. I’m guessing that Colonel Daddy wasn’t so accepting of Lynne’s underage alcohol consumption and she’s harboring a little resentment at his interference. She’s going to teach Colonel Daddy a lesson by letting her own demon spawn drink as long as the demon spawn doesn’t, you know, drive.

Lynne’s mom makes a suggestion of earthshaking brilliance when she suggests that if Raquel doesn’t get her act together, Lynne should take away her car. Horrors! Lynne isn’t about to take away her daughter’s birthday present. Not even if Raquel was to take a bunch of friends to the local bowling alley and spend the evening sneaking liquor into the restroom with the aim of getting drunk.”

It turns out that Lynne’s complete lack of control over her demon spawn doesn’t end with the drinking. She might as well hand off the house keys and sign over the lease to Raquel, as well. At this point Lynne won’t even make noise in the morning before her daughter decides to finally drag her lazy indulged butt out of bed. God forbid Lynne decides to vacuum. Oops, did I say Lynne? I meant God forbid Lynne decides to let her cleaning lady vaccuum before darling Raquel has gotten her full beauty sleep. After all, life without school, or a job, or any plans to contribute to society in any meaningful way takes a toll on a youngster.

Lynne’s mom smiles sweetly and gently tells her daughter that she’s an enabler. Lynne smiles back like she’s just been paid a compliment and agrees that she just wants to make everybody happy. I’m guessing that she doesn’t have a clue what enabler means.

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En-a-bler Wow, that’s a lot of letters.

Back in Wisconsin, Jeana’s taking a stroll with her younger sister. I’m thinking that the producers told Jeana that she needs to boost her drama ratings to keep up with the other housewives because she’s trying to hard to milk some drama out of their convo, but sis is a ‘glass half full’ kind of gal. They take a little trip down memory lane and sis reminisces with some funny stories, while Jeana comments that she must have been a really crappy older sister, but hopefully not as mean as Shane is to Colton. Sis looks horrified at the thought, which she well might. Jeana seems appeased by her sister’s reassurances that she wasn’t anything like Shane, but I’m thinking that that’s not really much to get excited about. Kind of like my husband saying that I don’t look anywhere near as bad in that outfit as my Great Aunt would of. You know, the aunt that looked like Walter Matheau in drag. Anyway, Jeana’s heart just doesn’t seem to be in the hunt for drama and this little family reunion has been pretty much milked for what it’s worth. So what’s a reality show star to do?

Let’s go get a donut.

It’s bittersweet times over at Gretchen’s abode. After two months, Jeff is finally home from the hospital and all of his kids are back to visit, which is really sweet. Gretchen is so excited to have her fiance home that she’s taking off for a girl’s weekend in Vegas, which is kind of bitter. Especially when Jeff is looking way beyond the point where he should have to be dealing with a camera team and production assistants traipsing through his house.

Shame on you, Andy Cohen.

Over at the local crack house, Vicki is slaving away to make her ungrateful husband dinner. But things have improved since her scrubs shopping spree earlier in the day. She’s not having those mini-twitching seizures so she might have figured out at least a temporary balance between the diet pills and the crack. Still, Vicki’s no newby when it comes to stimulants and she knows how to take the edge off. So when Donn asks what his loving wife wants him to do, Vicki’s super clear. She wants a beer and she wants it now. Oh and by the way she’s taking off with the other shiksas to party her ass off in Las Vegas this weekend, and she might be leaving early because sometimes crack hos just need a night away. Well, make that most of the time, cuz it’s a wide world out there full of diet pills, cabana boys, and camera happy people who will make Vicki feel super loved and special; unlike her husband who’s into boring things like reality. Just as hubby, Donn, is irritating the crap out of Vicki by being in the same room, talking and God forbid breathing her air, daughter Breana arrives giving Vicki something to be distracted about.

Breana works in the trauma unit and the emergency room, which is really cool because it gives Vicki something to obsess and worry about the twenty-four hours a day that she’s wide awake and prowling for her next fix. Breana is my new hero in life. Not only has she turned into a hard working, nice, smart person, but she works a really tough job. When she talks about getting into her car after her shift and crying because of what she’s seen, I have to wonder why the hell Bravo is wasting time filming these useless housewives.

Here’s an idea: How about filming someone who actually contributes to society? Of course, that could put us recappers out of a job…

Over dinner, Vicki brings up the need to make a decision about the million dollar yacht. So much for Michael and Lauren’s votes. Breana suggests selling the house in Coto instead of the house in Havasu to finance the yacht. While Donn points out the financial realities in terms of monthly payments that go with owning a yacht. Of course, Vicki is totally pissed that Donn’s being so mean to her.

I told you, I don’t want to hear any more about reality.

I’ve got to hand it to her, crack ho’s doing her best to hold it together. She even manages to accept defeat a little gracefully, at least while the cameras are still running. I hope Donn slipped a mickey in her drink, because I’m thinking that the minute the camera’s stopped Cracky probably went completely nutso.

With all the extended family/parenting issues set aside for the week, we’re ready to leave the OC for Las Vegas, Baby!! Well, sort of. More like a resort eleven miles away from the strip located at the mouth of Red Rocks Canyon. But, hey, it’s still kind-of-Vegas baby! You know, gambling, over priced chunks of food, and really inebriated people wandering around in hopes that something might happen worthy of being left behind in Vegas.

The women are assigned to a big ass suite with the requisite enormous flat screen TV and pool table. And it’s looking alot like the suite J-Mo described in his awesomely funny Double Shot of Love recap. A few seasons ago it would have horrified me to have the housewives unknowingly plunked into an Ikki-infested boudoir without the benefits of really strong antibiotics and hazmet suits. But nowadays it seems like most of our Orange County divas are going to be perfectly at home with Ikki seconds. Yup, their red bras match the decor they’re good to go.

Vicki takes a moment to warn us that, anytime five girls are put together, there’s going to be some conflict. Because it’s really important to blame your own problems with social interaction on negative female stereotypes. Lynne tells us that she’s a little worried about the interaction. I’m totally relieved. It’s like Lynne’s brain is finally showing a little sign of life.

Huh?

The housewives waste no time in jumping into their bikinis and then, with the exception of Gretchen, jumping into sexy caftans so they don’t have to show their middle-aged asses. Seriously, these woman have their priorities straight. They have no problem showing their worst behavior, but God forbid they show some cellulite on TV. But what’s the point of being filmed by a pool, in a swimsuit, if you’re not going to flash some T&A for the camera? Anybody? Well, thank God for Gretchen’s willingness to sacrifice her own dignity to save the other women.

It must have been a hell of a sacrifice for her.

Sadly, momma Jeana isn’t appreciating Gretchen’s sacrifice. She’s too busy wishing there were men there. Now that’s Matt’s safely stowed in his own apartment and Jeana’s spent all that money fixing up her bed she’s ready to start her own auditions for a leading stud. Vicki’s right there with her, ready, willing and hoping to find a quick fill for her old clanking love tank. And she reassures Jeana that they’ll meet some hot guys that night. Once again faced with having her sex cravings put on hold, Jeana does what she does best and starts a hankering after food.

I’m thinking that some guy out there better be quick to step up to the plate and take one for the team, because Momma Jeana’s looking a tad bit cranky.

Meanwhile, Gretchen comes back to the pool with a new shiny present for Tamra. Some bride to be is going to be bummed when she finds out her her bachelorette party whistles were plundered. Our hottest housewife looks a little embarassed when Gretchen presents her with the whistle, and then even more embarrassed when she can’t blow the damn thing. Poor Simon. Tamra puffs away and still no noise. Ah well, it’s hard to get your muscles to work when they’re pumped full of botox. Jeana watches Tamra’s struggle with sympathy, but gently points out that when you can no longer successfully blow the hottie whistle, it’s time to pass it on. Gretchen happily starts whistling away on the damn thing , while Lynne clamors for her turn. Tired of hiding her tuchus under water and frustrated by the lack of men, or alternatively food, Jeana is in no mood to be tactful. She gives Lynne the once over and tells her that the two of them are past the hottie whistle stage.

Lynne’s all ‘speak for yourself, I don’t starve myself down to a size zero just to be passed over because of my age’, but nobody’s paying attention because Gretchen’s blasting away on that whistle like she was auditioning to be Hef’s new girlfriend. Vicki isn’t liking the whistle and she isn’t liking that Gretchen’s grabbing all the camera time, which leads to some snide bitching about attention whores. But Gretchen’s not having it. She shakes her booty in Vicki’s direction and states that she’d rather be ridiculous than boring. I take her point, but I wish she’d come up with some other shtick than humping, grinding, and shaking.

It’s nice to see her demonstrating a new talent.

OMFG, I forgot ‘boring’ is like a four letter word to reality TV star wannabe’s. Call them sluts, hos, bitches, addicts, whiners, or backstabbers and they’ll roll with it, but ‘boring’? That word could knock them right out of a job, not to mention all that camera time. And there’s a few paranoid moments when the ladies sort out just who’s boring and who’s not. Lynne gives a pathetic, “am I boring?” And Jeana’s all like, ‘you are but we tolerate you anyway.”

For God’s sake, would someone get the woman a donut.

Luckily for Vicki, a little family drama arrives via a cellphone. Breana and her boyfriend Colby seem to be having some problems and she’s called her mom to cry her heart out. Poor Breana. I bet she was just thrilled to see her heartbreak caught on this week’s episode.

Okay, we’ve done the pool, drinks and bikinis. So what else is there to do in kind-of-Vegas? Oh right, gambling. Our “ladies” are heading toward the nearest empty blackjack table that has it’s own camera crew. I totally hope that that dealer is getting hazard pay for this. It’s got to suck when the players aren’t able to count to 21. Gretchen looks around for a sugar daddy to fund her gambling and comes up empty, so she turns to Vicki. After all, Vegas is like the tranny capital of the world and Vicki could totally pass for a sugar daddy in drag.

Is my adams apple showing?

Gretchen snuggles up to Vicki, batting her eyelashes and acting like she’s too dumb to breathe without Vicki’s manly advice. Donn I hope you’re watching, because I’m thinking that what Vicki really wants is more along the lines of a trophy wife than a yacht, and ain’t no amount of marriage counselling going to fix that problem. But not everybody’s feeling the love. Tamra’s got that special pinched look of a trophy wife who knows that she’s about to be dumped for a younger model. And OMG this is so like what happened to her mother at the same age. Except that Tamra and Vicki aren’t married and Gretchen’s not Tamra’s best friend, but, hey, it’s kind of the same.

Proving that dumb blonds are often smarter than they seem, not to mention way more manipulative, Gretchen happily informs us that she was totally acting like she couldn’t play blackjack because she knew that it would get Vicki in a whirlwind. All this drama between the blonds is at best irritating Jeana, because Jeana wants a real man not a housewife pretending to be a guy in drag. Oy!! Vicki you’re giving me a frigging headache. Get off the drugs and the diet pills, get a sex change, and go get your love tank filled.

The one lady who seems oblivious to tension at the blackjack table is Lynne. But then Lynne is one of those special people whose mind functions in an alternate reality made up of sun and waves and surf boards, so it’s easy to see how she misses most of what happens on planet earth. She’s just quietly flipping her cards and staring off into space not even aware that she’s winning because there’s a totally rad wave about to break on the horizon.

Remember the ‘Here’s your brain on drugs’ commercials?

That’s it. There aren’t any men around. Vicki’s making a fool out of herself over the hot blond, and Jeana’s not winning any money. What’s more, she’s stuck on the end next to La La Land Lynne. Jeana’s got better things to do, she’s ready to go eat.

The ladies head out for dinner and drinks. How romantic. Vicki and Gretchen order the same blue cheese stuffed olive dirty goose martinis. Who would have thought that this could possibly be anyone’s favorite drink. It must be kizmet or fate. Or, oops, Vicki’s done playing sugar daddy and she’s not feeling so romantic anymore. And it’s totally not cool that Gretchen’s trying to claim Vicki’s special trademark drink as her own. Gretchen rolls her eyes and shrugs at Vicki’s little snit because she’s not one to waste too much time on a crazy person.

Happy days are here again.

To turn the conversation away from dirty martinis, Gretchen brings up the amusing topic of air conditioners. More specifically, Lynne’s uncertainty of whether her house does or does not have air conditioning. After all, air conditioners are such subtle appliances. But before the other women can adequately respond to Lynne’s confusion, Lynne and Gretchen do the girl-bonding dash to tinkle, leaving the other shiksas at the table to do what they do best; backstab and bitch. Tamra orders Vicki to be nice to Lynne, but Vicki’s not sure that Lynne’s working on all 8 cylinders. And besides, being an airhead is a much bigger sin than being a nasty, backstabbing, crackhead, pill-popping, ho. So Vicki’s totally justified in looking down on la la land Lynne, because in crack ho’s delusional pill popping world, she’s completely calm all the time, not like a crazy, loony tune, walking around.

Professional spokesmodels are never like crazy, walking around, loony tunes.

Lynne might be a tad bit unaware of some things, but she’s on to these women and she’s got a plan. She’s either going to kill them with kindness or go all postal on their asses. If Lynne was an aunt and not a mother I could so fall in love with her character.
Jeana’s consumed enough crab, lobster, and shrimp to satisfy her inner woman, and now she’s ready to party hearty, and God dammit everybody needs to put their party pants on because these bitches are going dancing. And, if they don’t go soon, Jeana’s going to fall asleep because it’s after 8:30 and she’s kind of full. But Gretchen’s still young and she doesn’t understand how hard it is for older folks to stay awake past nine, besides there’s only one thing that Gretchen puts that much enthusiasm into, well two things: money and sex. She knows that Jeana has money so it’s not really that surprising when she blurts out that Jeana just wants to get laid. Jeana’s horrified. Jeana doesn’t want to get laid. Jeana wants to meet a soul mate, who’ll treat her nicely for the rest of her life, and if she just happens to take hime out for a test drive in her expensive new sheets, it’s not just for the sex.

I wonder if that waiter likes big tips?

On to the nightclub where a neon blond is kind of lamely circling a pole and my first reaction is to try and figure out which housewife is getting ready flash her hoo-hoo. Amazingly, it’s just a random pole dancer. I can’t help wondering how they managed to restrain Gretchen from knocking the dancer off the stage and straddling the pole for the camera. On the dance floor, Gretchen does just fine without any props and Lynne shimmies along side her, like a dog shaking water out of it’s coat. Boy those etiqette classes have really paid off for Tamra. Just a few short weeks ago she was grinding away over a water jet in nothing but a bikini, and now she’s all disgusted because Lynne’s dress is too short and she’s flashing her hiny at the camera.

Meanwhile, Vicki’s not wasting any time with poles or dancing, she’s working the crowd checking out the talent. Realizing what Vicki’s about, the women have varied reactions. Gretchen’s all like well of course she’s meeting men, and Lynne just goes with the what happens in kind-of-Vegas stays in kind-of-Vegas. But Jeana’s going for some future insurance via blackmail and is busily snapping pictures of Vicki’s encounters. I don’t know how to tell you girls, but those things pointing at you are cameras, so there isn’t a chance in hell that anything even slightly interesting that happens here is going to stay here. Besides, blackmail only works when nobody else knows the secret.

But, wait! Jeana’s being circled by an inebriated little camera smurf. Finally, a chance to replace donuts with a human a dildo; that is if she doesn’t mind who’s attached to it. Smurfy wants to know if Jeana’s still single because it would be so cool to tell his chatroom buddies that he banged a housewife. But Jeana’s not interested in baby sitting. She might be interested in someone smurfy’s father’s age, but she’d need two of smurfy to even make a dent in her new super foam mattress.

I’d rather have an eclair.

And that’s it for this week. Next week Tamra goes to Iowa and cries alot, so I’m stocking up on vodka ahead of time.

I love you guys and really, really, really appreciate your taking the time to post your thoughts around this trainwreck.

Hugs,

Yenta

****To read Chapter 6 of Yenta’s novel, The Traveling Prayer, click here.