Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Recap: Escape To Peace Mountain

First of all let me apologize for this beast being so late, but good things come to those who wait, right? Last night on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, boy did we witness some groveling. It was down in the dirt, on your knees, begging kind of groveling as Queen Lisa Vanderpump barely acknowledged her subject's pleas for redemption. 

I should say last night's episode was a study in relationship building and friendship, but also in status. New alliances were drawn, and enemy lines began to be sorted out. Also, the ladies took a trip to Ojai where apparently magic happens. But no amount of magic can make these girls behave in public. 

Things begin with two ladies afflicted by a curse of over botoxing and an unfortunate affinity for ugly blouses facing off in a quaint little restaurant. One lady, a benevolent but stern queen, and the other a marginally disgraced princess who is quivering and anxious with anticipation. Yes, Adrienne Maloof has realized she made enemies with the wrong lady, because while Lisa can be sweet as rosé, she will cut a bitch faster than she'll discard a wilting rose. 


Now if only Adrienne would realize the errors of her wardrobe. Heaven help that woman escape from satin! 

Lisa, I have to hand it to her, she played Adrienne like a fiddle. It was pitch-perfect. She glided in, gave Adrienne the stare down as if to say, oh you and was pretty much bored from start to finish.

First Lisa let Adrienne plead her case, then she let Adrienne admit that she made a mistake, then she got Adrienne to apologize while begging Lisa to forgive her. Through all of this Lisa said maybe three words, and she just smiled down over Adrienne as if she was levitating in a cloud of perfectly chilled pinot grigio (was it Ramona Pinot?!), all the whilst Adrienne practically resorted to begging. 

And Lisa accepted her apology, did not dole out one of her own, and then slipped away in a cloud of diamonds, shimmer, and pale pink dust. 'Well,' she thought. 'That's done. Now onto the important things – what to wear on this ridiculous trip to Ojai. Damn contractual obligations.' 

As Lisa floats off, Adrienne breathes a sigh of relief and staggers away on her fat little shoe. A hoof, in fact. A Maloof Hoof. Which is code for copycat of other designer's work which Adrienne likes. 

Anyhoodle, speaking of work Brandi Glanville is trying to get some. The former married to D-lister model is writing a book about her experiences being married, cheated on prolifically, and unceremoniously but very publicly dumped for a psycho. Brandi's life really is a Lifetime Movie – one I need to be watching. Which is ironic considering Eddie and LeAnn MET filming a Lifetime movie. Lifetime, your life being destroyed all the time! 

Anyway, Brandi was in NYC with her agent last week pitching the concept for this new tell-all. Brandi admits following her divorce she pulled Lindsay Lohan. She drank too much, took Lexipro, effed the world (including Gerard Butler!) and cried a lot. But then she got over it and decided to expose Eddie for the loser he is in an ode to fuck yous! Get it on Amazon today! Hopefully it out-sell's Taylor's memoir!

Also happening – a trip to Ojai! Kim Richards is back and she's alcohol-free and taking charge of chicken salad. First order of business planning a trip to Ojai to reunite the ladies. Yes, Kim will lead them bleary-eyed and raspy voiced to reconciliation and peace by taking them to a place where nothing bad happens, where gnomes and princesses dance a happy dance while dripping chocolate and gladness upon the chosen. This is Ojai.

Like Disney World, only without exploited child actresses. And better than Promises, where one can actually classify bocce ball as therapy. Yes, Kim will escort the girls to Ojai, across the desert in a limo with no name. But you know what they say: you can lead these ladies to peace, love, and wine, but you can't stop them from getting drunk and acting like asses. 

Kim heads over to Yolanda Foster's house of healing luxury to discuss the upcoming girls weekend. I think I need to move into Yolanda's house. She has a walk-in glass front fridge, she makes lattes, she does her own laundry, she has a killer closet (I'm a jeans girls) and she cooks. And it's so many zillion square feet I'd be able to avoid David's elevator music by going up to the 9th floor. 

Yolanda offers Kim a latte and they get down to business. I think it's sweet that Kim and Yolanda have struck up a friendship and I hope Yolanda takes Kim under her wing. Maybe she can introduce Kim to an eligible older man! 

Yolanda admits she hasn't really been on a girl's weekend, but she's heard marvelous things about Ojai. Good lord, I swear they said Ojai a thousand times last night. Ojai, Ojai, Ojai! I had briefly considered making it a drinking game, but thought better of it for professional reasons… 

Not speaking of Ojai was Splits Richards who took her daughter (a three-time driving test failure), Kyle Klone 1 to get a license. Kyle Klone 1 was all nervous that she'd forget to answer the question about yielding to pedestrians because she took driver's ed from her Aunt Paris, and that was a mistake. All Paris told her was like don't drive around with drugs in your purse and make sure to not hit stuff near police. 

Luckily for Klone 1 she passes and mama lets her drive the brand-new Maseratti home from the DMV. Cause that's what I like to do with my $100,000 cars; let sixteen years olds play bumper cars on Rodeo Drive while I cringe and snap the heels off my Louboutins air slamming on the brakes! 

Later all the girls save for Yolanda, Lisa and Brandi meet over at Kyle's house so they can embark on the trip to Ojai via limo. Kim is glistening in a sheer poncho and a massive leopard print handbag, while Kyle brags that she fashioned a t-shirt into a dress. Splits, you really should rethink that. Camille Grammer sneers that it looks nice, while practically vomiting into her Chanel tote. 

Otherwise it was the standard pre-trip clustering of over enthusiasm and fake laughs. Taylor Armstrong was there, but she didn't talk much and that's just how I like her; in the background. Camille told a scintillating story of Kelsey's new tattoo of wife Kayte's name, which he appropriately got right next to his teeny, weeny, little wiener. Camille compares it to new love Dmitri's manpart, and apparently The Charalambopoulos lives up to its name. Whatever, Camille. 

While the other ladies are making their way in a limo to the desert, Brandi and Lisa are working girls. Lisa is trying to set Brandi up with some modeling gigs so she'll not only have mile-long legs and youth to lord over the other girls, but money too.  

Brandi is all decked out with rolled hair and swanky clothes, but she's whining about how she doesn't look perfect because she has a thumb wrinkle in one photo and a shadow under her eye in another. Bitch please stop pretending you don't know what airbrushing is. 

Lisa tut-tuts and tells her she better shut it or Lisa will curse her with cellulite and then she'll really have something to fret over. I mean after all , how does Brandi think Adrienne ended up with that hair? Curse de Lisa! 

Lisa fills Brand in on Adrienne's little drinks and groveling session, and Lisa's reaction is meh – we'll see. Clearly these two are smart enough to speak in code on camera, something the rest of the Housewives can't seem to figure out. 

So Kim still hates Brandi for speaking the obvious last season and being part of a force that compelled Kim to seek treatment. But whatever, Kim still hates her so Brandi wasn't actually invited on this trip initially. So much for peace and love, right? Taylor was invited too, so really – so much for peace and love!

However, Lisa intervened on Brandi's behalf, as Lisa often does and basically said, 'Tough beans Richards 2.0, because I'm toting Brandi along with me.' After all , if Giggy has to stay home, Lisa needs some adorable, fluffy, loyal arm candy, right?

In the limo to Ojai, mountain of promise, Brandi is feeling positive about getting to know Kim and mending their relationship. See, Ojai is working already. Better than Lexipro. 

Already in Ojai are the gaggle of ladies incapable of peace and happiness, led not by Kim but a bossy, obstreperous Splits. They arrive at the home, are given the obligatory tour, and told there are only five bedrooms which means some of these ungrateful ninnies have to share. Everyone backs slowly away from Taylor, fearing another suitcase swallowing melt-down and lord only knows what else. They silently mouth that she can have the master. Just kidding, Adrienne decides despite pretend- apologizing to Lisa she's going to turn this into bedroom battles over who gets the best accommodations. 

And since last year Lisa stole the master in Colorado right out from under everyone else, this time Adrienne is going to swoop in and claim victory. What happened to becoming friends again, Adrienne? What ever happened to peace? 

Yolanda is flying in via private plane from DC where David had a concert. She glides off the plane, chicly dressed in jeans and a sweater and is surprised to find the other women in cocktail attire. She thought Ojai was casual and relaxed. Nothing about RHOBH is casual and relaxed, except for well, Yolanda! I so dig that this woman wears jeans. 

As Lisa and Brandi arrive the Witches of Rodeo are cackling on the patio and cracking wine bottles about how pissed Lisa will be when she learns she's sharing a room. Kyle predicts Lisa will act as if she doesn't care, meanwhile threatening people with a cheese knife in secret. Oh wait – that was just Kyle's approximation, replete with horrid British accent. These people have way too much time on their hands if they are this obsessed with sharing a room for five minutes. 

Brandi and Lisa trickle in and it's awkward as someone farting in an elevator. And then it gets worse because Kim makes the big announcement. You miscreants are forced to double-up, summer camp style. Like Parent Trap when the twins were shoved into a cabin to learn to get along, except the people shoved together already get along.

Fearing that Yolanda will hate them more than she already does, Kim rewards Yolanda with her own room while Brandi and Lisa share. Lisa doesn't seem to care at all as she jokes that Brandi better keep her clothes on or Lisa will start waltzing around naked and really give Brandi a fright. That was a let-down, right Splits?

Everyone heads to dinner where  things start off nice. Splits even fake compliments Brandi, which Brandi doesn't buy for a hot minute.

Kim and Brandi "coincidentally" end up seated across from each other. Brandi makes the first move towards polite conversation and tells Kim she sees her daughters around and they are good girls, nice girls and Kim has done a good job raising them. 

Kim is initially on the defense, sniping that her daughters don't like Brandi. Brandi admits that she knows that and understands they are just protecting their mom. Then they start to talk. It turns out Brandi started to fall apart and abuse alcohol to shield the loneliness of her divorce, and they bond over the feelings of being alone. 

Kim cracks. It was sweet. They were both honest and nice. And Brandi apologized again to Kim for accusing her of using meth. Kim starts tearing up and then Adrienne swoops in like a big old tacky gold-encrusted vulture to poop on the whole thing and ruin it. "Somebody's crying!" she bellows across the restaurant just in case the sous chef didn't know. 

Brandi is pissed and poor Kim was embarrassed. Dammit Adrienne – they were having a moment. Like a real-life Lifetime moment where friendship is forged and everyone hugs, and loves, and blames the idiot man for ruining things. But instead Adrienne's braying Vegas-styled voice intrudes upon the moment and shatters it. Like worse than when Kyle tried to join in on last week's sing-along. 

Brandi snaps back at Adrienne, "Call it out, why don’t you?” and Adrienne feigns confusion. Brandi clarifies that it means "Shut the fuck up." 

Well, that cuts right to the chase. Adrienne is all pursed lipped and sour-faced in response and Taylor of all toxic, delusional audacity has the nerve to comment: "Every time Brandi comes to an event with us, we never know what she’s going to say or do, and it’s just toxic.”

That's a bit rich, Taylor. Actually, rich is not a word I can use to describe anything about Taylor. 

Well, that's it. I guess Ojai's magic isn't able to penetrate through the botox and hair dye and horrible injectibles.