Y’all, she said it. It happened. Camille finally quit dancing around the subject and forcing us to make conjectures based on her actions and she just came out with it: she thinks she’s better than anyone who is not married to Kelsey Grammer. Which forces us to wonder: Where will Camille find her self-worth now that she’s getting divorced and he got some other bimbo pregnant?
That wasn’t the only thing that happened on last night’s episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, but it might as well have been. It’s what we (the royal “we,” anyway) have been waiting for since this godforsaken show started, and finally hearing it made sitting through the 40 or so minutes of squishy middle in last night’s episode totally worth it. In fact, it’s for the best that nothing happened in that long middle stretch, because if actual things had occurred, this recap would have ended up a full-length novel.
We started right back at the contentious New York dinner table that we left at the end of last week’s episode, and Camille was still trying to pull everyone into her version of reality. You know the drill: Camille claimed to be painfully shy, Kyle made the mistake of using “insecure” as a synonym for “painfully shy,” (which it sort of is), and Camille thought about it for fifteen minutes before deciding that blowing up at Kyle presented an attractive opportunity for additional camera time. Oh, and that fight was actually about a completely different fight that occurred in Vegas. I figured I should make sure that we’re all caught up, because I spent half of the episode trying to remember why everyone was so pissed in the first place.
Once the Camille/Kyle verbal slugfest (actually, it was more of a welterweight bout, wasn’t it?) had reached its logical extreme, the opportunity was nigh for the rest of the castmates to get in on the camera time. Kyle asked Kim, who was present for the initial altercation, to vouch for what was said, and Kim…balked. During her solo interview, Kim corroborated Kyle’s version of events and specifically said that she never heard what Camille claimed to hear, but when it came time to actually stand up to Camille in person, she couldn’t. I don’t care how much you’re trying to hedge your position in an unpleasant situation or not piss off this new person who might be your friend, you have to back up your family.
Sensing a new weak link in the conversation, Camille and Taylor seized on Kim because Taylor had apparently mentioned to Camille off-camera that Kim had said Camille was insecure while they were all back at the airport, and she had also told Camille that Lisa was goading Taylor into saying bad things about Camille on the plane which may or may not have involved insecurity, I’m not sure, at which point Camille popped up in her solo interview to say that Lisa’s part in the whole kerfuffle was “very Machiavellic in its nature.”
Let’s pause here so I can catch my breath and you all can try to parse what I just said. Although don’t try too hard, it’ll probably just give you a headache, since that’s the effect it had on me while I wrote it.
I loathe Camille for a lot of reasons, really. I mean, with so many from which to pick, where do I even start? I hate that she managed to engage in so much high school drama that I had to write the longest run-on sentence in the history of my career in order to explain it, for one. I also hate her because she’s one of Those Women who think that everyone is jealous of them because they’re so fabulous, but in reality, everyone just hates them for being vapid, insufferable, self-aggrandizing morons. But mostly, I hate her because not only does she clearly lack any functional idea of who Machiavelli was or what his name generally refers to when used as an adjective, but she also doesn’t even really know what the word is that she was trying to misuse just then. Machiavellian, Camille, MachiavelliAN.
And really, we should talk about this in more general terms, because people shouldn’t be using words when they don’t know what they mean. I dated a guy for a while who always said “magnanimous” when he meant “magnificent,” and I didn’t want to be that constantly-correcting girlfriend who nagged him for things like that, so the first few times he said it, I let it slide. And then after a while, I wanted to correct him, but it had been going on for too long and my window of opportunity to do so without sounding like a complete jerk had closed, so I kept my mouth shut. But eventually, we got in a fight about something completely unrelated one day, which I somehow saw fit to end by exclaiming “OH YEAH? WELL “MAGNANIMOUS” DOESN’T MEAN WHAT YOU THINK IT MEANS.”
So to all of you people out there who are using big words because you want to sound smart (and Camille effing Grammer is definitely among your ranks), please stop. It puts all of the well-intentioned, quasi-literate people around you in weird positions. Plus, it makes you look dumb. Just use small words and use them correctly. And to my well-intentioned, quasi-literate brethren: The aforementioned tactic is an excellent way to end a fight, or at least to elicit a baffled pause from your opponent while you regroup and/or reload, but I don’t particularly recommend it if you’re hoping to keep that person around in the future.
After she was finished misusing all of the big words that she could find in her head, Camille wandered off and the rest of the group continued to fight amongst themselves. Taylor made some kind of lame threat about “getting Oklahoma” on Kim, and I’m not entirely sure what that even means, and I also have no confidence that Taylor could demonstrate it if asked. I’m from Atlanta. What would it mean if I said I was going to get Atlanta on someone? Ok, well, that might actually mean I’m going to shoot you, and that might not be a bad threat to use in the future. Or maybe it just means I’m going to sit in traffic with you? I don’t know, someone provoke me and see what happens.
Kim also made some vague non-threats about Taylor needing to watch herself, which was just as silly as Taylor’s threat to “get Oklahoma,” because this is not Real Housewives of New Jersey and neither of them were going to flip any tables or yell any obscenities and we all knew it. And then Kim told Kyle that Camille (I don’t like all these alliterative names, it’s confusing) had done a great job making her look stupid, which in addition to being mean, was also not even true. That prompted the rest of the group to get up and leave as well, which meant that
the cheese Kim stood alone.
And then what happened? Nothing. All 1400 words of that stuff happened in the first seven minutes, and other than briefly visiting Adrienne while she prepared for her uncle’s funeral and scoping out her GIANT three-dimensional wedding dress display hanging in the hall in her bedroom (Yes, her bedroom has halls within it. What, yours doesn’t?) (Also, did you see the specially lit handbag display? ADRIENNE, ARE YOU AMONG US?), almost nothing went on for the next 40 minutes or so. Lisa’s husband scooped a turtle out of the pool back home and got stuck in the shrubbery. Kyle and Lisa tried on clothes. Everyone hemmed and hawed over whether or not Kyle should go to the opening of Kelsey’s play.
But Kyle did go, probably because the producers told her and Camille that she had to or this wouldn’t really constitute an episode. Everyone went! Not together, though, because Camille needed extra time to talk with her friend/hair stylist in her limo about how everyone, for her entire life, is just so jealous of her. Since we’ve already covered wy that’s a) annoying and b) verifiably false, let’s instead talk about how all of Camille’s friends also double as her employees. This hairstylist was particularly annoying and sycophantic, but I guess you’d have to be really dedicated to your craft as an ass-kisser if you’re going to put up with Camille in any long-term capacity. Speaking of which, did I hear Camille sorta compare the hate crime committed against her gay makeup artist to her getting in fights on a reality TV show about rich ladies? I think I sorta heard that.
Anyway, they all went to the premiere and Camille sat in the audience with Nick, the hot, omnipresent friend who she insists is married and a close friend of Kelsey’s. She also had a completely annoying conversation with Nick later in the episode that we’ll talk about in a second, but now, let’s discuss body language. In both the scenes were Nick was present in tonight’s episode, Camille looked like she was about to make out with him at any moment. They know each other. In the Biblical sense, if you catch my meaning. People who have slept together and who wish to continue to do so have a certain physical way about themselves when they’re together, and those two have it. I’d bet all the money in my bank account on it. Admittedly, that’s not that big of a bet. But still.
When the play ended, Camille ran backstage to congratulate Kelsey on his performance and/or remind all of us that she’s married to him, and for their second scene together in a row, he seemed completely annoyed by and uninterested in her presence. He tried to shoo her out of his dressing room gracefully, but she just kept trying to stay to talk about flowers and signed playbills and how fabulous he was. He eventually got her far enough out the door to shut it in her face, and then it was on to the afterparty! He came off less skeezy than I had expected when faced with the rest of the women, but there was still barely any show of affection or interest toward Camille. Not that I blame him, because how could anyone be genuinely affectionate toward that? But when you compare it to her interaction with Nick, I think it demonstrates my point about those two pretty clearly. What do you call a male mistress? A…mister?
We next saw our housewives back at home in Beverly Hills, discussing the events of the trip with those who stayed at home. Lisa filled in Adrienne and Cedric the housegay, both of whom seemed to agree that the entire thing was ridiculous. Kim presumably sat at home and felt sad. Camille (and this is the really interesting version of the story), for her part, sat down with Nick (of course) to explain her alternate version of reality, in which Kyle attacked her like a “crazed homeless woman” and “raged” at her. Let me know if you noticed any of that actually happening, because I didn’t.
What’s clear, though, is that saying anything to Camille is like playing a game of Telephone with Satan himself. Who knows what your words will turn into after they’ve rattled around in her head cavity for a few minutes, let alone a few days? “Your hair looks great today” turns into, “Your hair usually looks like crap warmed over.” “Kelsey is a sweetheart” turns into, “Why in the world would he be with you? I’m going to steal him and post the pictures of our sexytime on the Internet to taunt you.” “I’m looking forward to the premiere” turns into, THERE’S A BOMB UNDER YOUR SEAT AND IF YOU MOVE YOU WILL ASPLODE.” What goes into her ears is completely unrelated to what eventually comes out of her mouth.
Then, Camille tried to frame the whole blowup as some sort of feminist issue about women not supporting other women, although I’m pretty sure that anyone who speaks openly about being distrustful of the entire gender isn’t really qualified to identify things as being “bad” for women. Camille is bad for women. And in case you were wondering, I can’t start talking about the fact that she was sitting there pretending to read Art of War when her mister showed up, because if I started, I would never stop, and I have things to do today other than rant on the utter and complete improbability of Camille’s ability to read words and think thoughts about them.
But really, the coup de grÃ¢ce of the entire episode was what Camille said after she was done inaccurately describing what had occurred on the trip. She further explored the idea that Kyle is just jealous of her, and as I mentioned in the introduction (it’s ok if you don’t remember it, that was several thousand words of rage ago), Camille’s real feelings about her worth and that of her costars came out. Camille, you see, is married to an A-list (in her head, at least) celebrity who has won a Golden Globe, for chrissakes, and Kyle’s husband is just…her realtor. He’s the help. In objective reality, a place to which Camille has clearly never been, it seems as though Mauricio’s actually a very successful real estate broker with one of the largest luxury agencies in Los Angeles, and he’s listed right behind the two named partners on the company’s website. He’s not exactly showing condos in the Valley on weekends.
But that doesn’t matter to Camille. Her husband has a name. A name that she’s hell-bent on mentioning, in full, at every opportunity, just to make sure that everyone knows how important she is and how much better she is than people who simply call their husbands by their first names in casual conversation and reality TV interviews. If she just called him Kelsey, maybe not everyone would know who he is, and by extension, maybe they wouldn’t know to have the proper reverence for her. After all, it’s kind of a big accomplishment to have fooled a drunk television actor into marrying you, and then getting him to stay married to you for 13 years after he sobered up and surely realized that you were an awful, insipid, bratty gold digger who couldn’t be bothered to actually carry her own children, let alone raise them.
And I mean, when I think about it, I guess that is sort of an accomplishment. An accomplishment that makes me weep for the eventual fate of humanity, but an accomplishment nonetheless. Who would have thought that anyone would be self-flagellating enough to stay married to that women for more than a decade? But remember, Camille, pride cometh before the fall. And that fall should be happening any week now.
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