dear butterbean: For Real

How long has it been? Two, maybe three months? You know, time flies when you're a Real Housewife of Fairfield County. Between living luxuriously and being fabulous, I simply haven't had the time to blog. Let's see...where to begin? There was the month we spent in St. Barts (pronounced sin BAAAHHTS, if you're wondering) and really, darling, preparing for a trip like that is nothing but work. The house manager must be notified, the staff must be organized, the couture must be packed...the sort of thing that no one wants to do, but someone has to make the sacrifice!

The next month was spent roughing it in our penthouse in the city. I know, I know...what's rough about a Central Park view and dinner every night at Jean Georges? Well, you try living in a mere 4,500 square feet and then tell me that you don't spend half your time in bed recovering from claustrophobia and the other half sending the house boy out for Xanax and oxygen imported from Switzerland. It's no picnic, darling, trust me.

And well, the rest of our time has been spent attending benefits for the poverty-stricken underbelly of Greenwich (those poor souls who make less than $250k, God bless them) and coordinating the expansion of the aforementioned penthouse. Oh, and we did make a quick jaunt over to London at the end of April for the wedding of some friends of ours (although I was terribly upset that a certain someone and I were wearing the same tiara. I know at least one stylist who is out of a job!)

So there you have it...all work and no play, as you can see. Such is the life of a Real Housewife...