December 21, 2002
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The Adventures of Paisley
Blue
I have stayed away from this journal for too long. Once again I let others have too much influence on me, and now that I have recognized it, I have nipped it in the bud. My journal will not close down at the end of this year. It - like me - will go on.
Some milestones have occurred in the last few weeks. Mechanic returned from his little vacation in one piece, although a few pounds lighter. Right before his return, I attended my first concert. I saw Cyndi Lauper and Cher at the Key Arena here in Seattle. It was very exciting, although very noisy.
Cyndi was a very down to earth kind of performer who actually got out amongst the audience members on the floor. Her performance of "True Colors" was very beautiful, prefaced with a short story of what inspired it and to whom it was dedicated. Colorful lights swirled on top of the main floor seats as she wore a rainbow banner around her shoulders on stage.
Cher made a grand entrance descending from a chandelier. She had multiple costume changes and different sets. It seemed that she was going with a circus theme, at one point coming out in a tall hat and wielding a whip. Between sets there were little entertainments, such as acrobats, dancers, and exotic things to watch. She did a wonderful tribute to Sonny, coming out in 60's hippie attire and singing some of their old songs while images flashed on the screens from their beginning years up to their final performance together on the David Letterman Show. At the end of the concert what looked like fireworks were shot out over the main floor. Turns out they were silver streamers filled with money, that floated down to the outstretched waiting arms of the lucky audience members underneath.
I attended my department's Holiday Party and we had a blast. It was held at the Vice President's house, which was comfortable but not ostentatious. She and her husband had prepared appetizers and provided wine, beer, soda and juice. They also prepared supper, including rice, tasty chicken wings, prawns in lime and garlic sauce, and a salad that had pomegranates in it. We played Cranium, sat around and talked, and one by one everyone left. The identity of Secret Santas had been revealed. I did not guess until earlier that day who my S.S. was, and that was only because she bought me something that we had just been talking about that morning.
There've been a few more discussions with my mother, where she has tried really hard to not upset me. I think she realized she was driving me away the harder she pushed. Still, there seems to be no budging me from my stand... I do not intend to leave Seattle. I feel very fortunate to have a good job here, and I like the direction my career is taking. After tonight's conversation, though, I think she is more determined than ever to find a way to lure me back to Arkansas. But you know at least they love me and care about me to want me back... at least, that's how I feel.
Speaking of how I feel, there's a lot of anger in me right now, which isn't the nicest thing to admit at Solstice... but then again, during this time of year we are supposed to be looking inwards and working on ourselves. That's what I'm doing. And what I found there both surprises me and makes me wonder...
This year I have had a few people try and use this journal against me. The latest one is Blue. Now I have not been writing in here about the horrid things that Blue has said and done since he broke up with Mechanic. I have not gone into great detail about the dysfunctional way he seems to look at life or the constant harrassment he has given us. I have not done this out of respect. Blue has chiseled away at the respect I had for him, and reached his lowest moment when he used my journal against me in a conversation with Mechanic.
Blue has proven himself to be two-faced, to see things only as it is convenient for him, even if that happens to be directly opposite of how he looked at things just one minute earlier. Then he will deny that he looked at it the other way at all! But to try and evaluate me like some kind of armchair psychiatrist and then to judge me as if he has any kind of grounds from which to judge another human being is beyond all.
Yes, I'm angry. Not that he found my journal and read every entry from 2001 and 2002. I suppose he has a lot of time on his hands since he quit his job... even when Mechanic told him over and over again to really think about it, recommending that he NOT do it... and now has blamed Mechanic for the loss of job, scarcity of income, and paltry work selection that Blue now has to face due to that BAD decision... so I guess he has a lot of time to read my journal.
Nowhere on this website do you see a notice that invites the reader to study my life and then judge me. The primary purpose of this journal is to provide a place for me to record my life, to give me an opportunity to remember things that my memory problem robs from me - everything from feelings, important milestones, conversations, insight and resolutions. It is for ME, first and foremost.
Other reasons for the existence of this journal have been, over the course of time, to provide communication between myself and another person, such as you will see in the early days of this journal when I sent messages to Country Blu at the end of my entries. I have used this journal to sort out feelings about people I care about, or people I live with, and they have read those accounts and gained greater insight into things that I had a hard time verbalizing.
But in no case was there ever an invitation to read these words... words that I sometimes have to sit and yank out of my heart and upload into cyberspace... and then use them against me, or use them to try and turn someone against me. That torqued me off.
Can you tell?
One of the wonderful things about life is that there are two sides to each coin... there's a silver lining to each cloud... insert your favorite cliche. The good thing here was that the experience further reinforced my feelings that Mechanic does value my friendship and was not swayed by the weak arguments of a self-centered man who tried to hide his problems by holding up another person's problems instead. Mechanic showed me the words that Blue had typed - it was not hearsay, it was quotations, if you will.
Blue, I have seen and heard you talk about people behind their backs, and not thought much of you for it. I have seen you take the words I have spoken and twist them and try to use them to your advantage in furthering your relationship with Mechanic. I have seen you try to diagnose everyone who you meet with various psychiatric illnesses. My experience working in that field for years easily revealed to me your ignorance but I did not flaunt that to others. I simply spoke up for them, in their behalf, because trying to label people is mean, and can be dangerous. Now to take my journal and use the things you read there to excuse your actions and your hurtful words, to try and make yourself look good is beyond the pale.
And yeah, I do love Mechanic, but we are friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. You were not telling him anything new. He has read all those journal pages, too. He knows what I have struggled with. And besides all that, the relationship that he and I choose to have - regardless of what kind of relationship it is, regardless of what we do or don't do, say or don't say - is entirely our business. It's not my mom's business, it's not my bosses business, and it sure as hell ain't your business! You weren't hurting me and you weren't hurting him. You only made yourself look stupid.
Please consider this, Blue. By doing all these things, you have pushed others away from you rather than attracting them to you. I lose track of how many times you said that you thought so-and-so needed psychiatric help. I know you wave the flag of Therapy Survivor but I think you need to go back... and this time, you need to LISTEN to your therapist. Honey, you got some serious work to do before you can meet a man and not scare him with your obsessive, controlling ways. I think you have potential, but in the meantime, you have alienated everyone you thought of as a friend during your visit to Seattle.
One more piece of advice, Blue: Don't move to Seattle for a few years. Get some help first. Otherwise, I believe the queens out here would rip you to shreds.
Hmmm... I feel ever so much better for having spoke my mind. Er, typing my mind. Anyway, time to move on...
Merry Christmas. :-P
~Paisley Blue
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