Look back to move forward

I haven't lived full-time in the homeland for 22 years. That is crazy to me, seems unreal. I was 24 when I left, so I have almost been away as long as I was there. I left for very good reasons, and they still exist - I know, because I visit regularly. Traffic, insane, soul-sucking traffic, inescapable, 24-7 traffic would be reason numero uno. I choose not to live my life in my car, no matter how much I like said car. The cost of living is big ol' reason number two. Did a search on their Zillow recently for shits and giggles of the same quality of abode I have here, and yeah. About 4 times as much to rent. But I don't think my pay for comparable work would be 4 times as much, sooooo......why? Unless you are really rich out there, it's gonna be a struggle. But I am at a point in my life when I know that I am destined to go back, and go back for good. It won't happen for a few years, but yeah. It's gonna happen. I just keep getting older, and so does my family, and I want us to get old together. And they ain't gonna move, obviously. Leaving my current home, this amazing city full of amazing people that has quickly become a great love of my life, will be more than difficult to do. They may not be blood, but I have family here. Lots of it. That being said, I shall have to fortify myself with all of the reasons I would love to be out there again, so I don't obsessively think about traffic and living accommodations like a nervous, feral cat anymore, and don't cry rivers and oceans over the prospect of leaving the 901 and all of the gifts it has given me.

It's a straight-up gorgeous place to be. Everywhere you turn, there is natural beauty to see and explore. And good weather to go along with it. I like fog, I like a chilly summer, I like sun that doesn't hurt as much. Humidity makes me an angry, sweaty person, and I hate it. I hate the bugs that come with humidity, too. I cannot wait for it to be a sweaty memory. Okay that's a good one. What else......OOOO!

get.jpg

SPORTSBALL! Yeah, probably won't be going to any Raiders games after the next couple years, but still....so much sportsball in such a small geographic area! Any and all of it! I look forward to being a season ticket holder for the A's again and getting my fix whenever I want it. I can't even watch my teams on TV most of the time right now, and that makes me sad. Ohhh, and YEAH!

I MISS SKIING SO MUCH! Yeah, okay, my old knees don't, BUT I DOOOOO!!! I can't wait to own skis again, and have to go buy chains for my car, and road trips to Tahoe on the weekends, and maybe even finally learning to snowboard with my brothers. WHEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Exercise never feels like a chore when you have a Pacific Ocean beach to do it on. Or a lakeside path. Or a bay-side path. Or anywhere near that intoxicating salt water smell that makes my guts and soul so happy. And don't get me started on the wonderful treats contained within that water.  Well, OKAY, if you insist.

I love all seafood, but really, I'm all about crab crab crabby crabby crab. Put it in my mouth! And avocados. Cheap, delicious avocados. And the produce. And the bread omg droooooool. See's Candy! Good pizza everywhere. Real Mexican food, and most importantly, thousands and thousands of Asians making thousands and thousands of treats for my eats! YAY!

There is so much more, but I'm already feeling bolstered, and not thinking about traffic. Much. And the most important reason making me want to go back - my family and my BFF of almost 35 years. My entire family. They are there and I'm not. I'm not going to post a picture of any of them for their sake, but trust me, they're cute. And I miss them so much I get achy sometimes. What better reason could there be?  

I can do this. Eventually.

I can do this. Eventually.

I ain't broke

So stop trying to fix me!

Ugh, y'all. People always have all the answers to your perceived problems, don't they? Not realizing, of course, that the problem they're having is their own, and you're pretty much all good. What the hell am I talking about? Lemme tell you what.

I have made choices in my life that are the right choices for me. I am a grown-ass woman, and I know these things. I live in this skin, I have to listen to this never-tiring brain all the time and feel all my own feels, you know? I GET ME. And frankly, I like me just fine. I always seek to improve myself, but if I got caught in a time warp and had to stick to right-here, right-now, I'd be feeling just fine. So when people start a sentence something like, "You know what you need?" I'm pretty much gonna get prickly on 'em instantaneously.

No one, not my mother, my best friends, my cats, NO ONE knows what I need except me. So why must people act like they know? And actually be invasive and inappropriately familiar about it? Oh, you think I'll change my mind about having kids, because obviously it's the best thing I could ever do for myself? 

Oh my god, I'm so glad you figured that out for me! It's not like I'm a 46-year-old woman who has never wanted kids for even 10 seconds and HASN'T EVEN HAD A UTERUS FOR THE LAST 6 YEARS, OF COURSE YOU'RE RIGHT!! What have I been thinking?? How could my sad little life ever have meaning if I don't procreate??? You hit the nail on MY head! Brilliant. I'm gonna start filling out adoption papers right now!

What presumptuous assholery. And it's never anyone really close to me, of course not! It's a stranger or acquaintance who always has the answers to my life's mysteries! Bless their hearts.

"Hey! You've been single too long. You should date XYZ, I bet you two would be great together!"

Duh! How stupid could I be?? Why have I been avoiding relationships and dating in order to focus on important goals and improve myself while feeling emotionally stable 24/7 and the happiest I've even been? I should date THAT GUY, he will help make me make sense to others, and clearly give meaning to my life and fill the obvious void I'm suffering from! I am clearly a dried-up, old, lonely crone! Why didn't I see that for myself? Thank you, random bar fly! Your wisdom has changed me. FOREVER. I owe you one.

"You and XYZ are so cute together. How long have you been dating?"

Sure! Of course my male best friend and I must be dating! I could see how all NONE of those PDAs would confuse you! Two people of the opposite sex could never be enjoying a truly platonic and non-sexual relationship, that's fucking crazy! How could we possibly just enjoy each other's company without banging all the time? WHAT ARE WE THINKING???

You know, I am quick to offer advice if I have it to give and it has been SOUGHT OUT. But I don't understand the need to tell grown people you don't really know that well that their way of living is lacking in some way. Maybe the folks who do this think they are powerless to change their own lives, and look outside of themselves to feel.....what, in control? Wise? Superior?

Stop and think. No, really? Just stop it, period. 

Tread Gingerly

EDIT: OoooooooWEE! I wrote this 5 years ago today. I was pissed! Hahaha, go ginger!


This is not my first blog about being a redhead. But this time, I'm irritated. 
 
Why is it okay to say things like "Beaten like a redheaded stepchild"?
 
Seriously, think about it. That phrase is used SO much, and it implies that a redheaded child is somehow more deserving of a beating than other children. Why doesn't anyone ever seem to realize how offensive that is to us??? I'll tell you why.....there are so few of us that no one cares, they don't think about what they're saying. I would assume that we are the smallest minority out there, with less that 2% of the world's population sporting the hair color naturally. I am so sick of that phrase. I literally AM a redheaded stepchild, and no one beat me. If you are reading this, please don't say that anymore. It's not okay. And tell your friends, too. Please?
 
Red hair is a genetic mutation. We don't choose this, unlike the eleventy billion people who dye their hair red. (Side note: if you DO dye your hair red, please see a professional who specializes in red hair. Box color is horrifying and insulting to gingers.)
 
Redheads are constantly unfairly judged and categorized. Random strangers think it's okay to call me "Red". I hate that more than I can possibly express. I usually shoot their own hair color right back at them. "What up, BROWN." "How's it hangin', GREY." Everyone thinks that we have terrible tempers. I think there may be a grain of truth to that, but I think it has more to do with nationality than hair color, and is mainly due to NURTURE over nature. I mean, I'm Italian/Irish. I had a lot of fiery (and sometimes drunk) people around me growing up. I think that my temperament would be exactly the same if I had dark hair like a lot of my family does, the pigment of my hair didn't seep into my brain and make it fiery-tempered, come on! We are also supposedly more sexually driven, even promiscuous. Hmmmm. Again, I'm going to assume that this is up to the individual, because a genetic mutation didn't cause that. I think that perception could likely be all about the beholder - after all, the color red is scientifically proven to increase the metabolism, heart rate and respiration of the viewer. These things are stereotypes, just like saying that black folks like watermelon or that white folks don't have rhythm. Prejudices. So why is it okay? 
 
Here are some interesting facts about redheads and the judgments bestowed upon them in history:
 
Paintings of Eve during the fall of the Garden of Eden frequently depict her as blonde or brunette before the fall, and redheaded after. Many depictions of satanic incarnations also have red locks. From the 13th to 18th century, redheads were frequently accused of witchcraft, since they possessed such an "abnormality". During the Spanish Inquisition, it was thought that redheads had "stolen the fire of hell" and therefore must be burned as witches. In Egypt, redheads were buried alive as sacrifices to the Gods, some say; others say it was to "remove the stain/tint". Redheads are historically thought of as untrustworthy, mainly because most depictions of Judas were as a redhead. Friggin' bees are thought to sting redheads more readily than others. In Greek mythology, redheads turn into vampires when they die. In Corsica, if you pass a redhead in the street, you are to spit and turn around. Aristotle believed that redheads were "emotionally un-housebroken". Um, how crazy is that shit? And this is just the tip of the red iceberg! It's a HAIR COLOR!!! Shit.
 
Thanks to melanocortin-1, the mutated gene responsible for our redness, it has been proven in medical research that we are even harder to sedate than people with other hair colors, ain't that nice? We require, on average, 20% more anesthesia! We are more prone to sunburn and skin cancer. We are thought to be prone to industrial deafness, as the melanocytes are found in the inner ear. We are more sensitive to superficial sensation to our skin, like pain and heat and cold, and our eyes are more sensitive to light. I'm gonna stop now, I don't have enough beer for this. My last name rhymes with CARROT, y'all. And it was the mean kids who made me aware of that, believe me. Also? CARROT TOPS ARE GREEN.
 
On the flippity, I get a lot of compliments and always have. And sweet old ladies are always telling me that their hair used to look just like mine. Which doesn't suck.
 
Be nice to redheads, and don't be a hairist. I mean, if you believe the stereotypes, we might KEEL YOU, so be careful!

Crushy crush crush

Seriously though, is there anything better than having a crush? None of the relationship drama, just all of the ishy squishy heart-racy goodness that makes being a human so fun. You know that guy or girl who you can barely stand to make eye contact with because they're so beautiful? Or maybe you're like me and have a couple of 'em. Yup, greedy. Whatever. It rules.

Most people probably wish they could be in a relationship with their crush, but I really think that's too bad. I mean, once you get them, if you do, you're eventually gonna get over all of that idgy widgy crazy good feeling stuff and just go back to regular good feelings, and BLAAAAAAAHHHHH who wants that??! <snooze> 

That ultra-self-conscious, suck in the gut, hoping to look perfect in less than a second when they happen to glance in your direction is WAY MORE EXCITING.

anigif_enhanced.gif

That means you gotta aim HIGH on those crushes. Pick someone you're pretty sure would only want to be with you if their sig-o and back-up sig-o died. So there's a shred of hope, which is what makes it exciting, but not enough hope that you have to worry about dropping into normal-feelings-land. Your crush should see you and be all

and in no way be like you, all dreamy and goopy and

No! That's where the magic is lost. You know the old adage, you always want what you can't have. When you have it, it's like.........meh. And god forbid your crush confess his or her feelings to you, telling you that they have always secretly dreamed that you felt a special kind of way for them. Bubble busted! Or worse, one of your friends SHARES the same crush, because then the magic is straight up cut in HALF, and you're all like AW HELL NAW, I'M ABOUT TO CUT A BITCH YOU SAID WHAT??

disbelief.gif

But that's probably just my opinion.

Crush on, people!

Shoo, fly!

I know I have ADHD, but I'm too old to give a crap. I'll stick with our 70's belief that it's caused by red food coloring and call it a day. But I do have crazy hyper focus, which is currently fixed on the GODDAMN FRUIT FLIES KROGER GAVE ME in a bag of cherries. They are in my kitchen and on my GODDAMN COMPUTER SCREEN and I hate them. The cherries weren't even that good, on the real. It's ironic that a chick with the attention span of a fruit fly is in this position.

So I turn to the internet, the magical marvel of answers, and find several ideas for traps. The one I tried, a wide-mouthed bottle with chopped up banana at the bottom of it and a paper funnel stuck in the top, is the fucking tits. The fruities can get in down the funnel, but they're too stupid to get back out. I am taking way too much pleasure watching them try to smash their stupid faces against the sides. I imagine super high-pitched voices in there screaming "heeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeee" and I cackle with delight. I hold them up to the light just to piss them off and point and laugh. Enjoy your rotten banana, boys. It's your last meal. Maybe you'll think twice about a cherry feast next time, bitches.