You may think to improve personal image, or perhaps avoid mockery, or bullying during the school days? To no longer be called 'matchstick', 'duracell' or 'tampon' or have people standing a metre away to avoid catching 'gingervitis' perhaps? Or even to prevent people singing 'get back in your biscuit tin, gingerrr gingerrr' every time you go for a biscuit. Well I was a ridiculously happy child who didn't notice the bullying - just thought that the other kids were being dim and continued playing 'it'. Although my naivety is fading, the same applies now - take it in good humour and maintain your happiness.
I clearly have a mockable face - there's something about me that indicates to people that I'm someone to make fun of - even small kids join in. I think it's mainly 'cos I'll take little personal meaning to it, and laugh it off - generally 'cos they're pretty good jokes or makes them laugh. I can't see the point in wasting valuable time on over-analysing people's impressions of me, so spend little time on my appearance or worrying. If life all ends in death, then the worst is always yet to happen... sounds sinister but that means that it could always be worse - be happy for your situation.
I've somewhat diverted and come scarily close to a 'deep' analysis suitable for an emo MySpace profile. Mind you, that's possibly fitting for what's yet to come.
My housemate, George, when we were 15 used to walk next to me with his phone playing
'WARNING! WARNING! GINGER ALERT'
...sirens and all. He'd also point in case any one was perhaps unable to identify myself as the ginge next to him.
He seemed to have a genuine hatred for gingers and would constantly insult anyone who had a tinge of the ginge. This was mostly portrayed through comedy and outright insults, which although I found comical some didn't. As a social group we had the feeling that if we managed to strategically dye his hair ginger without him realising, he'd probably break down. So as all caring teenagers do, we formed a bet: if he dyed his hair ginger, I'd dye mine black.
He was certain this would never happen, as not only had I promised a babysitter when I was 9 that I'd never dye my hair, my pale skin and light eyebrows would leave me looking a fool.
I did look a fool.
...and like to think I didn't fully break the promise as we used semi-permanent dye.
So the reason I dyed my hair? To humiliate another. If you look the whole situation though, he did the same. I guess this is the basis of our friendship. Together we left the house looking ridiculous. My black hair, seemingly no eyebrows, skin so pale you need sunglasses to prevent snowblindness in the sunshine and his new Ron Weasley image.
Was it worth it?
Well, three months later I'm still not ginger again (we used semi-permanent dye) and he's well and truly blonde again. I have glorious ginger roots that have been accurately described as 'just like the sunburst effect on a guitar' so my head glows orange in the sunlight. I've had an awkward moment with my clinical educator as she finally gets the guts to ask 'are you ginger?' and have dealt with the horrified look on my family's faces. But yes, it was worth it.
He forgot he had to take a new passport photo.
He's going to be ginger for 10 years.
As for my current song: Dog is Dead - Young. I played this song to Laura who when I asked 'Do you like it?' simply responded with 'No, nothing about it, it's just rubbish'.
Reminds me of Christina's fantastic quote:
'Your music is so spasticated it makes me want to cry.'
I quite like it though.
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