The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills recap: I Miss Misbehavin'

I wonder if Allison Dubois pulled Camille aside halfway through the season and told her friend that she’d had a vision. It was a startling one as it did not involve a child’s abduction. Instead she was being plagued by flashes of unflattering red carpet photos of Camille and her angry breasts beneath unflattering headlines of deeply uncool behavior. I’m not sure what else can account for Camille’s sudden personality shift. Where she was once smirking and cold, pronouncing the lot of women beneath her, she is suddenly more excitable and warm. Everything is amazing! Kyle’s top is gorgeous! Mauricio has a cannon of a forearm! Nick’s ridiculous tennis wig is hysterical! Kyle’s apology is acceptable! (Wait, I don’t remember Kyle apologizing.)

Everyone was sweetness and light at Camille’s little tennis party. Yes, our hostess loves the chance to swish around in her mini tennis skirt be athletic and loves an opportunity to flip around the pool in her bikini and there’s no greater sport than suggesting the other fully clothed women in her midst are jealous of her ropy bod. But there were mini cupcakes and crustless sandwiches and we got to see Mauricio swing his racket, which makes us all winners. The subject of New York came up and even then Camille played nice. “I took it the wrong way,” she allowed. “I wear my heart on my sleeve,” said Kyle, as Mauricio kicked her ankle under the table, hungry for future Grammer commissions. Kyle won a lifetime invite to all of my future pool parties—the Ramsey Park public pool down the street that is—for gamely jumping in fully dressed.

Later in the episode Kyle—how many of you will be writing in to Bravo, wondering where she got her green earrings?—broke into a little sweat planning her White Party. It turned out to be the first actual fun party of the season, for everyone except Russell and Giggy who both looked like they wanted to leave the moment they arrived. Poor Russell, so uncomfortable in short sleeves. Poor Giggy, desperate for a night in and a chance to lounge on the sofa en flagrante. Kim arrived, looking rather adorable in her swingy little pony tail. Poor girl’s mouth went dry and twitchy when Lisa informed her that Martin would be in attendance. He showed up in one of Cedric’s old outfits, looking like he’d hit the Bennigan’s happy hour beforehand, and was decidedly cool to our former child star. Poor Kim, who I fear we shall soon see in a round-up audition to be one of the potential dates on Millionaire Matchmaker.

NEXT: Russell glowers by the Fat Burger standCamille arrived by herself. Am I alone out there in feeling a growing smidge of sympathy for the woman? All season she’s shown up alone to every event. Her husband can’t wait to get her off the phone, whining that 25 minutes of catch-up time is long enough. He’s just so very tired is all. Falling in love with another woman is exhausting! So yes, of course her gift of a book on etiquette to Kyle was ill advised. But Kyle took it rather well, and Camille enjoyed her first genuine laugh of the season. If there’s a more depressingly ridiculous sight than Camille Grammer, clutching a sack of burgers for the nannies, uttering French expressions of goodbye into the wind as she clambers alone into a limo, then I don’t want to see it.

But then I saw it anyways. Oh Taylor, step out of your bad romance novel, girl. Go Oklahoma on your own life. She showed up to the party ready to go all cotton candy on a hamburger’s ass. Russell wanted to go home and do his 20 on the elliptical before setting his Sharper Image alarm clock and getting the appropriate hours of sleep on his Hastens bed. Taylor gazed longingly as Mauricio and Kyle shared a corny and dear first dance, tears flooding her eyes as her husband ordered himself a double bacon at the Fat Burger stand.

Suddenly the scene went into slow motion, the sitars took on a menacing sound, and we were thrust into Bravo’s version of a John Hughes movie. Russell lumbered off alone into the night, consumed by large clouds of dry ice smoke. Taylor wobbled back inside, and squeezy squeezied Kyle’s hand. (Hi cutie Portia’s pajamas!) Does she deserve to be happy? Can she ever bring Russell over to the fun side? Is there love out there in this cruel world? We left Taylor alone in the driveway, clutching a piece of cake that would never pass through her pillowy lips. She just wants someone to celebrate with is all. Just then Giggy bounded up and jumped into her arms, smothering her with frosting-coated kisses, and offered up his terry cloth robe to ward off the chill.

The only thing that could save this night was some dance music and Kyle busting out her pony tail lasso. A swing, a swing, and she caught her Mauricio around the neck. Atta girl. I didn’t see Cedric at the White Party. Perhaps he was back at the mansion, rehearsing the next chapter of his Dickensian tale of woe. We left off when he was eight years old, maybe seven, abandoned in a Parisian telephone booth. Next stop, a London soup kitchen or a New York loading dock? Hey, when you’re freeloading you have to sing for your supper.

Next week: Oh lord, it’s Tony’s time. Watch as Kelsey tries at all times to keep a large piece of furniture between he and his wife.

Hey Housewivians! Was the whole Camille-kissing-Nick-on-the-lips scene dumbly blown out of proportion in the previews? It was their least scandalous exchange all season and I dare say an actual moment where Camille can claim mean-spirited editing. Is is slightly alarming that Paul keeps getting his face smashed in by his young children? Was Jason’s mock proposal to Pandora the world’s most obnoxious stunt or a good gag for the cameras? Is a false claim of bronchitis to get out of a party early good etiquette? Does Giggy dress Ken or does Ken dress Giggy?

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