This has been a busy weekend filled with highs and some pretty tremendous lows. Yeah, lots of lows. I don’t really feel like I got a weekend because I spent most of it running around. Holidays, what a hellacious pain in my ass.
There was some significant drama this weekend. I was supposed to attend a meeting with the regency group leaders Saturday night. However, before that, in email discussions on the transfer of the presidency of the Oregon Regency Society from me to another leader, I was enlightened on her final plans which were not at all what she represented when she was convincing me to hand it over to her. This was someone that I had trusted. This admission of hers led me to the harsh realization that she had stood before me as a friend and lied to me to achieve her ends and gain control of the organization and its membership. She had full-on lied through her teeth. And she still claims she did nothing wrong. It was a crushing epiphany—because I had invested a lot of love and friendship into her and her actions were almost too impossible to believe. Part of me still believes it wasn’t really her, and that it was her being led about and manipulated by her two friends; because I still can’t believe that she would really have that horrible a character. I thought she was smarter and a better person than that.
I was unable to control my emotions—I cried like an idiot when I first read what she sent me. I realized that I’d been naïve and had been fooled and decided not to go to this meeting lest I gouge her eyes out with my fork or kick one of her idiot-helpers in the wiener (if there is one there at all)—because the Lupron brings the anger to a whole new level. Instead I gathered my impassioned wits, I made sure the local leadership folks whose time-investment and hard work would be affected by her rash and stupid decisions had *all* the information they needed before attending this meeting so that they wouldn’t be shafted without even realizing it. They apparently had to pry the truth from her a number of times during this meeting.
Yesterday, an email was fired out by one of her two idiot minions dismissing everything I (or anyone else in the organization) had ever done or contributed to the group, and gave the credit to her instead. It was insane. I opened it up (I was at Dark Horse Comics in Milwaukie) and said “HAH!” really loudly in the middle of the comic store (kind of embarrassing). I looked at my husband in downright disbelief and read him the email, to which he laughed in utter incredulity. What that email did reveal in the end was that these were the quality people who are behind this new ‘leader’ and how low and classless they really are. It also reveals with stark reality, how clueless they really are about the whole organization. They think it’s just balls and dancing and teacups and all about them. Utterly, entirely, wholly without a single clue.
But hey, drama is just drama. The real thing that weighs down my heart is the betrayal of someone who I thought was an actual friend. Someone who I had grown to care about enough to defend her irrational swings of behavior and interest, her brash tones, her impulsiveness to others, and to keep her reputation intact among her peers in spite of her actions in the past (she’d done something really selfish and stupid to the same ends last year just after my father died but then had a lapse of conscience). She never got along with any of the other people who threatened her for being put on equal footing as she as leaders. She was jealous. I should have known then, and had I been smart enough to realize it, this would not be an issue today. I’d have given the leadership of the ORS and the RSA to the people who should have had it; the people who set up events and don’t act like they were gods for doing it. The members who went above and beyond to create beauty and elegance without taking credit for what they spent from their pocketbooks. The people who did it out of love for what the ORS stands for. Hindsight is always 20/20. I see now why I was hesitant though—but I am not always quick enough to trust my instincts. I allowed her push me over the edge and believe what turned out to be outright lies. I never should have. I can’t help but still doubt it was all her. That’s love for you.
Now I have to read emails being dispatched from her decrying how she was ‘treated’ so ill by me and dismissing my efforts and those of all the amazing people who make up this organization. Strap that cross to your back girl and don your crown of thorns—we’ll all cry for you. ::eyeroll:: I’ll miss you. The old you anyway.
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