0 to Crazy in Two Weeks Flat, Huh Ramona?

Dear Ramona,**

I've had a few NYC celebrity sightings before (Paris Hilton at the airport, Steve Buscemi in my Brooklyn nabe, Madonna's back in central park), but none have been as show-stoppingly spectacular as seeing you last night in front of Macy's on 34th street screaming into your phone about "Bethenney!" and "Jill!" and "book deals!" and "Money!"

I recognized you immediately, (though no one else was giving you a second glance) and I have to give props when props are due: you looked sorta cute. You've really infused the term "hot mess" with new meaning on the show (pretty much everytime you don't take Avery's advice and end up wearing some sort of outfit built around those black knee-high boots, a short skirt, and/or a titty shirt it doesn't work in a big, bold way), but last night you were looking (gulp) kind of adorable.

I was fiddling with my iphone and pretending not to listen to your conversation, though, in truth Mone, e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e was listening to your convo because you may as well have been talking into a bullhorn. Your pacing back and forth (and in and out of Macy's) discouraged me from getting full on stalkerazzi on you, but you were DEF talking about the possibility of doing Real Housewives of New York City again, and running through the scenarios of which other housewives would be joining you. You started talking money and cleverly noted that whatever you ask for, "They just give you half! You ask for 50, you get 25; you ask for 100, you'll get 50." Seriously, Ramona, you were soooo good at math!!

Unable to contain myself any longer, I dialed my husband in the hopes that I could leave the phone on speaker and let him get a taste of your ranting too, and that's when I lost you. DAMMIT.

I ran my ass home to watch the finale of RHONYC all hopped up on the excitement of having just seen you in your cute little pink coat, and your Christian Louboutin shopping bag (Mais, oui Madame!). Popcorn in hand, I was totally prepared to bask in the glory of all of my rediscovered Ramona love, and then...you did it again.

You let loose with the crazy.

You really did a bang up job of hiding the insanity in the first few eps (minus the Hamptons freakout where you almost threw your friend's dog in the pool). Were you quirky? Yes, of course. Were you annoying? Absolutely! Are you bad at Tennis? Totally! But you buried the full-on CRAZY down deep...until, of course, you met Simon.

Mind you, if ever there was a walking, talking crazy trigger, Simon van Kempen is most assuredly it, BUT I still was left with nothing but a wtf feeling after your outrageous outburst/exit last week over your "girls night" disappointment. Especially since none of these "girls"...uhm... like you very much.

I was certain that after that bizarro freak out, you would certainly be on your bestest behavior for the farewell party. I was expecting groveling, air kisses and eyeball pointing fer sure, but then you let loose with the crazy again (?!). You showed up an hour and a half late, almost bitch slapped your husband in front of everyone, and then sorta offered up this inauthentic, half-assed apology. You DID hug Simon and make-up which, true confessions, did get me a little teary-eyed, but your outcast status amongst the rest of the group seems pretty cemented at this point (ironically, Simon may indeed now be your only friend).

Poor Ramona.

The rest of the show was uber boring, so I do thank you for at least spicing things up an eensy bit.

Anyway, good luck with your negotiating!. I'd suggest (based on your "halvsies" theory I overheard you discussing) that you should ask Bravo for a billion...and then just settle for around 500 mil.

love ya long time,
me

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