Okay, it isn’t really an obsession, but I have this thing about red heads–natural red heads. This post is for my blogging friend, The Ghetto Quilter. She is a red head and she hinted that I haven’t been blogging enough lately.

I don’t recall in my life ever wanting to be white, but for as long as I can remember I have loved red hair. Freckles too. When I see a red head, and I think my heart knows if it’s dye, my heart leaps. And when I see freckles, my insides giggle like a little girl hiding under her porch watching the old man across the street dance. I used to pray for a daughter with red hair–she has ONE that I’ve noticed. My husband used to be a red head AND he has freckles. So does my mom. I like their freckles.
I saw a lady once, who had freckles. Her freckles didn’t make my insides giggle. This lady looked like she was about 60 and wore a size three and tanned since she was 12. So she was probably 35. Her freckles were so big and swollen they touched and her orange skin looked like an orange leather handbag. Her freckles made my insides quiver. I was disgusted. If you tan. Stop. Buy a UV lamp if you do it for mood purposes. Pray, or do somethin’, but please stop tanning. Especially if you have freckles. And use sunblock. Even in winter. Please, for the love of freckles.

So as I was saying. I like freckles. I like red hair. I think they are beautiful and they make me happy. My godmother had red hair (I think it’s natural) my memory does not contain roots (don’t tell me if it’s dye mom) and freckles. She’s black, like me. Did you know that’s a book? Black like me. I’ve never read it. It’s not a children’sbook, but I’m going to start a line of children’s books. I don’t want my idea to be scooped so I won’t tell you what about over the internet. I just need an illustrator. If you know someone let me know. So anyway my godmother always smiled. She smiled so big I could see the gold lining her molars. Geraldine. I loved being at their house Charles and Geraldine and their daughter Angela. Their cups smelled like vitamins and there is where I discovered chocolate ice cream with almonds. I’d sneak it from the deep freeze. Geraldine’s dad slurrped his coffee from the saucer and liked to be without teeth. I can see him just as if he were sitting right here. My memory of him is burned in my mind. I remember when he died. He was the only grandfather I knew. I don’t know what color hair he had. He was mostly bald.

I’ve tried dying my hair several times. Non permanent dye, actually. I usually try to go a little lighter or a little darker. That was a very informative statement. But every time I dye it, it’s always the same color. So I decided that when my hair gets long again I’m gong to dye it black. HEY, my hair is not black! It’s off black. I’m a rebel, eh? Did I use it right, Teresa? Huh?

Teresa lives in Canada. Some of my best friends are Canadian. Teehee. Just kidding. Teresa’s really American. She’s just married to a Canadian and has the cutest Canadian chubba baby in the whole of these United States. Teresa sounds like a Canadian and has a lot of paperwork that says she is, but her BIRTH CERTIFICATE says she’s American. And as any good red blooded American knows, once and American always an American. Right, eh?

Canadians are trying to infiltrate America. They try to look all innocent with that cute red leaf on their flag. But they sell these thermometer magnets that citizens can innocently give to their unsuspecting American family members. “Oh, it’s just a gift.” Yeah…riiiight. A gift. You can’t say, “No, sorry. Though I’m not a stars and stripes kind of girl and I really think your flag rocks (you can’t go wrong with a leaf and red), but I can’t take your very cute little magnet cause suddenly I’m feeling a surge of patriotism.” I’m sure it’s bugged. I feel like some sort of traitor every time I look at it and my kitchen has been 3o degrees all summer. Darn metric system. Speaking of metric system. When is America going to get on the ball? I’m sure that will be a sign of the end of the age when America moves to the metric system. Do they think it allows us to yield some sort of measuring power over the rest of the world?

Enough of that. I have to read that which has yet to be read. Red. It’s my favorite color. Leaves are turning red now, only on the Canadian Maples. Jerks. Teresa is not a jerk and she does not have red hair. Oh, wait. I think she has one. Teresa has beautiful, thick black shiny hair. Teresa is BS little sister. He still likes to tease her and get her all riled up. It’s very fun to watch. Katie is BS big sister. Katie has curly hair. I also have a thing for curly hair. BS doesn’t tease her very often. Maybe cause she cries a lot. It actually encouraged me to not hide my emotions. Now I’m openly crabby, then I go cry in my room.

I used to cry a lot. So one day I prayed that I would stop crying so much. God answered that prayer just to prove a point. It got to the point where I thought I was a robot so I prayed that God would make me a big baby again and now I cry a lot again. But not anything like I did when I was a kid. Now I have a real reason. Most of the time. I am also getting older, so my tears don’t always have a point. And who says they have to. I’ve noticed that there is a direct correlation between the number of hours spent listening to public radio and the number of days closer I am to 30.

I’ll be 30 in March. I’ve been thinking about the day since I was 20. BS said he was going to throw me a party. I’ve been asking him if he’s started planning yet because if it were me I would be planning it right now and you would be invited. Especially if you have red hair and freckles.