June 11, 2002
While her roomies are bonding and whooping it up in New England, Tonya sits at home alone. That's the way she likes it, dear hearts, and she's not afraid to tell us so. She complains that her housemates are superficial, that they don't understand her. What I don't understand, mes amis, is Tonya's super-shiny eye shadow and lip gloss. Her face might as well be sending semaphores to faraway ships!
But, the problem isn't entirely her make-up, or the other cast members; Tonya, former foster child and kidney patient, is afraid of forming attachments, especially such short-lived friendships. She'd rather hook up, you see, with sugar daddies and psycho, email-deleting boyfriends. "It's deep!" she exclaims. Well, that's one thing one could call it.
If Tonya doesn't miss the other Real Worlders, they don't miss her much, either. Kyle claims that the group wouldn't have bonded if Tonya had been there, sulking and blinding sea captains. Cara patronizingly tells us she must protect Tonya, but she also admits that she wouldn't choose the buxom blonde as a friend outside of the wondrous world of reality television. Almost everyone has thrown in the Tonya towel. Chris is the only one who seems to still be making an effort to be friendlyand Tonya thinks Chris' lifestyle is pukeworthy, darlings!
Back when Theo yelled at Tonya in the van, he had proudly declared, "Other people talk behind your back, but I'll say it to your face." No sooner have the other kids returned from their laborious haunted house and sailboat trip, than Tonya is reminded of the poisonous murmuring beneath the bright banter. Chris issues an apology for vaguely bad behavior; it seems that one reason that the other Real Worlders are so close is that they can all agree on one thing: Tonya irritates the stuffing out of them. Tonya hangs her head, "I should've been prepared for this."
If you ask Tonya, even the fish in the aquarium are better company than her backstabbing roommates. Tonya pledges never to give her tormenters additional ammo, but unfortunately, they don't have to work very hard to find it. Tonya overhears Cara giggling, "Have you seen Tonya's chest lately?" Cara tells Kyle and Keri that the infamous body part is "saline and tan." Keri calls the perky hemispheres "very Playboy." Tonya's lack of acting talent is another topic of derision. "Less hokey!" Cara stonily demands during the rehearsal for their Halloween play. "Well, if you want less hokey, what do you want?" Tonya replies.
Well, my sweets, I'm just relieved Tonya isn't one of those Real-Worlder-Entertainer-Wannabes (ahem, Cara!). Anyway, as much as Tonya says that all this backbiting isn't unexpected, she's especially hurt by Cara's comments. She remembers the intimate body-image conversation she had with Cara one evening, in which she admitted to having breast implants in order to boost her self-confidence. She assumes Cara was the culprit, revealing her "secret" to the rest of the house.
Honestly, mes pamplemousses, Tonya's fake breasts weren't much of a secret, but Cara's behavior isn't entirely honorable either. "I didn't tell anyone, I didn't NOT tell anyone, either," says the Voice of Rationalization. What is clear is that Cara felt free to ridicule Tonya's surgery behind her back while pretending to sympathize with the woeful Walla Wallan.
Tonya confronts Cara in the presence of the other housemates, and the formerly gushing, blushing Cara morphs into the bitter, unfeeling hag she'll be when she's forty. She denies ever having such a conversation with Tonya, denies that she would ever have a problem with her own perfect body image. Whether she has an eating disorder or not, she's certainly barfed her relationship with Tonya, such as it was, down the toilet.
So, Tonya resolves to never again try for friendship or even open communication. She is a rock! She is an island! Maybe she'll go into the garden and eat worms! Whether the other housemates will even notice or care, is yet to be seen.
Oh, and Halloween, in the Real World universe, breathes down the kids' necks with fetid zombie-breath. Once they finish their "research" in New England, the cast members must mop the sweat from their brow, and start pulling the production together. Cara directs rehearsal after rehearsal of silly, rhyming stories about ghosts. And if that weren't bad enough, Theo and Aneesa insist upon injecting the story with flirty fun, while Tonya is as natural as her boobies.
The kids present their work in progress to the Mayor's office, and suddenly, Halloween sounds about as exciting as a week in the gulag. No one even cracks a smile or raises an eyebrow at the kids' plans. If that weren't bad enough, the Bunim/Murray Players visit their performance venue, only to find a tiny, leaking, hay-filled tent. "The problem is that I've pitched larger tents with my morning wood," Kyle explains. Like I said, the tent is practically subatomic. Will the show go on?
Who's Topless? "I think you're gorgeous," Tonya says. "Really?" Cara blushes, gazing hopefully upon her boyish chest, which is demurely covered with her hands.
Who Cries? Tonya cries when she realizes that no one likes her when she's "honest," so she might as well be phony.
Most Annoying: Tonya may annoy her housemates, but Cara must spend lots of money on skin toner and lip gloss with those two faces of hers!
Best Quote: Before the big meeting with the Mayor's office, Kyle claims, "I think we're prepared. I don't think we're very, very thoroughly prepared, but we're prepared." Which is to say, mes amis, they're not prepared at all.
Next Week: As the play approaches, the catfight continues!
Want to tell Mrs. Filthy something?