Ginger Stuff


Where’s Buffy the Vampire Yeti Slayer when you need her?  Actually, I love snow…in theory. In reality, snow is cold and I’m Southern. I like snow, but I haven’t really forgiven snow for the near-frostbite of 1993.  My friend and classmate Lindsay invited me to her house that Sunday. On the way to her house I fell and hit my butt on the ice-covered sidewalk.  I continued to her house, which is ten houses from me. I got there & we played in the yard. Her backyard neighbor invited us to play with her. Instead of going across the sidewalk, we walked across the ice-covered ditch. The ice was thin, I was not. My foot went through the ice and the water entered my sneakers & multiple pairs of socks. We continued to play. I started having trouble walking and my feet hurt. Then they didn’t hurt, but walking got harder. I finally convinced Lindsay something was wrong. Her mom had me sit in their garage for a little while to warm myself. Then she drove me home from their house—the only time that ever happened in our friendship. She told me to take a lukewarm shower, NOT a hot one,1 and take some Tylenol.  Also, I’m a little annoyed over the week in 1996 we got iced in at Nana’s when Granddaddy died.23 Nana, Mom, Dad, Aunt Barbara, Uncle Danny, Eric, and I were “stuck together” in the same house for a week, with enough clothes and medicine for two days. Mom & Dad had to come back to Huntsville, at one point, to feed Blizzard,4 Snowflake,5 & Tom,67 who were at home by themselves, and to get some clothes, medicine, etc.8 It was an odd week, but we had plenty of food9 and were able to get along pretty well.10  Maybe I’m annoyed with ice, not snow. It’s all cold and wet, though. They go together, so…I’ll blame it on the snow. But snow does go well with my gingerness.11   And snow itself is very pretty, which I like. It also seems to make the neighborhood quieter, which I also like.  Anyway, it’s cold and I’m conflicted on how on how I feel about the coldness.  Oh, a progress note on my knee, I tried on a pair of my “high”12 heeled  shoes. That sounds like an odd and random thing to mention, right? It was my first time wearing heels at all since before the surgery. I walked in them for a few minutes. I nearly fell a few times, too.13  But I didn’t actually fall.  Go me.  Mom and I argued a bit about the height of the shoes. They were three inches tall, which is like 7 or 8 inches to her.  I was a little flabbergasted at her “they’re just so high” angst. They’re only slightly higher than I am supposed to wear.14 But she’s my mom and she is supposed to freak out over that sort of thing. Even if I am almost 32.15 Anyway, my knee did fine with the shoes, so that was good. That’s so important to know, FYI, because you can burn yourself easily if you have frostbite. ↩He had died at the hospital the day before. He was not dead in the house with us. ↩We were all at her house because his visitation was February 1st and his funeral was scheduled for the 2nd. It ended up being the 7th, which was the day after what could have been his 77th birthday. ↩Black female cat. ↩Black female cat. ↩Siamese female cat named by a two year old. ↩If you are wanting to mock said two year old, remember how adorable that toddler could be. Basically:   ↩Etc. being code for pads because that was also the week my second period ever decided to start. ↩People had brought a lot of food over because people do that when someone dies. ↩This was before I broke my family apart with my blog. ↩I like how I look when I’m out in snow better than I do in most other weather. ↩3 inches are not that high, comparatively speaking. ↩It’s amazing how quickly one can lose the ability to walk in heels. ↩Two inches is max when you have joint issues. It’s supposed to be the max for everyone. ↩Less than a month. ↩

Welcome to Snowpocalypse 2016


A few weeks ago, I decided that I definitely needed to start wearing makeup again. But there was a problem. I’m not sure if I’ve ever even mentioned it. You see, I’m a ginger. I know, I know. It’s so surprising. I’ve never even had the courage to tell my parents. But it’s a relief that I can finally bring it up.  Being a ginger means a lot of things: not getting to wear orange, buying sunscreen by the palette, having my parentage questioned, being touched without my permission, and having limited choices in makeup. Or so I thought. As I perused the Internet for makeup suggestions for redheads, I came across article after article by non-gingers that, more often than not, had no actual redheads in them.1 I was beginning to lose hope when I came across this video featuring makeup artist Mary Greenwell. She was explaining how she did Jessica Chastain’s makeup. I figured that a professional makeup artist who has worked with a natural redhead might know get shit when it comes to makeup for redheads. In the video, she said redheads can wear any color. After recovering from the massive fainting spell that caused, I began to wonder if that could possibly be true. So I got myself some lipstick2 and decided to try out her theory. And to save my fellow gingers3 from having to look at pictures of Emma Stone & Christina Hendricks, I decided to post about it.4 I don’t have any dark lipsticks, nor do I have any neon/vibrant color lipsticks. I want to buy some plums and darker shades, but, because I can’t otherwise see myself wearing them, I will only try vibrant ones if someone else foots the bill for them. In all of these pictures, the only makeup I have on is the lipstick that I’m demonstrating. OMG. Emma Stone, Christina Hendricks are NOT redheads. A bottle of dye does not a ginger make. Stop saying they’re redheads. ↩By got myself, I mean that I bought them and the comments listed below are not influenced by any company, spokesperson, etc. They are my opinions and words. ↩Because I’m nice, not because I’m a shill. ↩You’re welcome. ↩

Lip-Shtick Service 



1
For Such a Time by Kate Breslin My rating: 1 of 5 stars Recommended for: Anne Rice; anyone who thinks that the dislike of this book is unfounded; bigots I’ve read many books that I could classify as “bad books” over the years, but this one is quite special in how awful it truly was. There was nothing enjoyable about Kate Breslin’s debut novel For Such a Time. First, let’s tackle something that was brought up repeatedly in the book and in its official descriptions. The lead female character Hadassah Benjamin (known through most of the novel as Stella Muller) has blonde hair and blue eyes. On the back of the copy I checked out of the local library, it is specifically described as, “her Aryan-like looks allow her to hide behind the false identity of Stella Muller.” According to the official description on Amazon’s app, the description starts, “In 1944, blonde and blue-eyed Jewess Hadassah Benjamin feels abandoned by God when she is saved from a firing squad only to be handed over to a new enemy.” On page 14 of the story, she is described this way, “Morty once told her that her beauty would save her–a “changeling,” he’d called his young niece, Stella’s blond hair and blue eyes a rarity among their people.” Early in the war, this might have protected her, but it wouldn’t have been guaranteed. When you consider that Werner Goldberg, the man who was literally the poster boy for the Aryan ideal, was expelled from the army in 1940 when it was discovered he was a “1st degree Mischilinge” and had to help his father escape a hospital in 1943 so that he wouldn’t be deported to Auschwitz, you can be sure that appearance wouldn’t guarantee the safety of a non-influential light-haired, light-eyed Jewish girl. And the supposed rarity of the trait is questionable due to the fact that now 32% of German-Jewish children also have blond hair. Brown (light and dark) and black hair each have slightly percentages than that. One would assume that the dark hair stereotype is just that, a stereotype. By focusing so much attention on the appearance of this woman who is also described as a savior, it is promoting a white supremacist ideal of beauty and moral value, while simultaneously justifying that ideal’s belief of punishing those who don’t fit their narrow standards of beauty. Somehow her beauty is able to trick Aric into believing that she isn’t really Jewish and that the papers that have been stamped saying that she is must have been wrong. Aric will eventually blame her for not telling him that she is Jewish and for not telling him that she did not support the Nazi’s cause. This is after he has seen her traumatized at the brutal killing of Anna while in a camp. He saw that this broke her spirit, but he believes she still might be willing to support Hitler and his group of bigoted, sociopathic thugs. Her beauty and position as Aric’s secretary also seem to convince every Nazi officer that she must be a prostitute. She even calls herself a “brazen hussy” when she is forced to kis Hermann in order to save the life of Joseph, Aric’s houseboy. And Hermann muses that she is a sorceress using her beauty to bewitch the Commandant into sympathizing with the prisoners. (Of course, Hermann also calls women weak-minded and mere vessels for man’s use, so he’s not exactly a great example of non-sexist thinking.) Another serious issue is the repeated use of rape and assault as a way to threaten Hadassah/Stella into doing things & the underlying Stockholm Syndrome-esque quality of the relationship between her and Aric. When she first meets Aric von Schmidt, she tells him that the Gestapo assaulted her in some way and suggests that it may have been a sexual assault attempt. He classifies their behavior as a prank. Twenty five pages into the book, he threatens her with being returned to Dachau while he tries to seduce her. She is reminded over and over that she is essentially his prisoner, that she has no true sense of free will or personhood, but that she should be thankful for his saving her and for his attraction to her. When she has a traumatic flashback in a nightmare around page 47, Aric expects her to be thankful that he’s moved her to Czechoslovakia with him, but he’s threatening her with being sent back. He even uses sexual innuendo in these conversations, while having no regard for the suffering that she has been through. All that he cares about is that attraction he has. And he tries to make that attraction seem more important than what he knows, as he witnessed some of it, she’s been through. He threatens her when she doesn’t want to do as he has told her, tells her he will send her to Dachau for not eating, forces her to eat food pork, forces her to type of the lists sending prisoners to Auschwitz, forces her to sit through meals as Aric and other SS officers talk about the benefits of slave labor in the camps and ghettos, threatens to kill people unless she kisses him, and forces her to agree to marry him. As I read the story, I saw his behavior as similar to Christian Grey’s behavior in the Fifty Shades series, only Aric was so much more vile. When the book started, Hadassah saw Aric as a “Jew Killer” and a potential threat to her safety. By page 82, she has begun to trust him, while knowing that he could turn on her at any moment if he found out who/what she really is. This is so reminiscent of Stockholm Syndrome. She is living in the home of an SS-Commandant and sees him as a good person who doesn’t really want to hurt Jews. She doesn’t recognize that he continuously fails to show real compassion for the prisoners in […]

Review: For Such a Time


I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t nervous about taking the Keflex the Infectious Disease specialist prescribed. I was. I think everyone was, including the doctor. It’s only natural when you have multiple drug allergies1 to be cautious with this sort of thing.  I started joking about how I was noticing red splotches pop up within a few hours every time I took it. I was, but gingers and anxiety patients can sometimes end up with rashes and hives for little or no reason. So I just kept an eye on them and tried not to worry.  Until last night.  Last night, about 60-120 minutes after taking the Keflex, I noticed my throat was itching and that I could actually feel my uvula. I thought that I was probably just being nutso. Even when I realized breathing was starting to get especially hard–and I’d used my rescue inhaler. Even when I noticed that my lips were slightly puffy last night. Even when all of those things lessened after using Benadryl.  You know how people have suggested in the past that I might be a hypochondriac or have another sort of factitious disorder? I always understood that sort of thinking because I tend to think my problems are no big deal–if it’s “physical”, I think it’s in my head; if it’s “mental”, I think I’m just being ridiculous.2  Anyway, I figured that maybe I really was nuts and that I should just ignore it.  This morning I took the Keflex again. About the same length of time passed before I noticed the same symptoms popping up. This time I casually mentioned it to my mom.3 She didn’t take long to call the ID to find out what we should do. The doctor’s office called back. I was to immediately discontinue the Keflex. If the swelling got worse, I was to report to the ER. She was going to figure out what to do next. She apparently didn’t figure it out today.  So, yay. I have now flummoxed an infectious disease specialist. I am a statistical anomaly in the medical profession.45 It’s so fun being a freak for the medical community. I just love being the person whose charts allow them to learn all about weird shit. I love how it leads to unnecessary tests and stress. It’s just so fun.6 Now I wait for an absolution that will never come.7  including two related to Keflex ↩Discounting one’s own suffering & health issues can actually be a sign of things like PTSD. ↩Imagine casually mentioning to another person that you were showing signs of anaphylaxis. ↩Even when allergic to other cephalosporins or penicillins, at least 90% of people can still take Keflex. Those who can’t aren’t usually allergic to most other antibiotics. ↩The rapid strep test & culture from last week coming back positive and negative is another example of my anomaly-ness. Of all the people who have inconsistent rapid test/throat culture results, only three in one study had results like mine. And there is no known reason why that sort of thing happened. ↩If you can’t detect the sarcasm, I’m sorry. ↩It’s a Titanic reference, dude. ↩

Anaphylaxis and You




For some reason, some doctors feel the need to tell me that I’m a redhead. It sort of bugs me when they do. It’s one thing when some random stranger reacts like I’m some kind of unicorn1 and says it. I get that my hair makes me rare.2 When it’s doctors? Not so okay. Sometimes when they bring it up, I want to ask them where they got their degree from because they may deserve a refund.3 I’m okay with a doctor bringing it up when letting me know that because I’m a redhead that I might be prone to certain issues. Or, on the flip side, that I don’t have to worry about certain things. If it is something pertaining to treating me, then great. Bringing it up for no real reason and acting like I don’t know my hair color? Nope. Not okay. I know that I can act ditzy, but I would really like to believe that even doctors would realize I’m not so out of it that I failed to pick up on my hair color at some point since I was born. I’ve sat through appointments with my mom, who has dark blonde/light brown hair, and I’ve never seen a doctor mention her hair color randomly. My dad doesn’t have doctors who bring up his dark brown hair. I never heard doctors for my grandparents bring up their hair colors.4 I’m pretty sure that it has to be the red hair that leads to the wackadoodle reaction from the medical community. It’s not truly offensive if they mention that I have it or ask if I realize that I have it, but it is just annoying and a little, I don’t know, weird. And I don’t know if they realize just how weird it can be. Probably not. If they actually thought about it, then they probably wouldn’t do it. They probably think that I poop glitter, too. ↩Teehee. That rhymed. ↩I don’t because they that might be rude. ↩All were brunettes. ↩

Oh, I am?






Obviously I aborted my immaculate conception because I’m a soulless ginger. It’s not the first time I’ve been accused of having an abortion. It is the first time that I’ve been accused of having one AFTER telling someone that I’ve never had one. I guess that he or she thinks that if I would support access to abortion that I must have needed one at one point. via Tumblr

Because I Have No Soul


With a closing sentence like that and pictures of these particular1 gingers, I’m anticipating fanfic. Do not disappoint me, internet. via Tumblr & Buzzfeed2 Damian Lewis and Karen Gillan if you aren’t familiar with them. ↩The post was about a “scientist” claiming that gingers were going to go extinct because of global warming, or as I like to call it ginger-phobic bullshit. ↩

I’m anticipating fanfic.