Skip to main content

Ten reasons why I love being ginger.

I am very aware that the non-gingers reading this piece are going to be scratching their heads in confusion as to why someone would love to be ginger.

1. As a child American tourists would stop me and ask to take my photo as I looked like an Irish Cailín (pronounced caw-leeen), which is the typical pasty ginger look associated with Ireland. They would always reward my posing with a pound or two and this added nicely to my pocketmoney. Honestly, for about three years I wore as much green as possible just for this reason! All because I am ginger.

2. There is an element of fear surrounding gingers. This is due to superstition and South Park.

I used to work in a bar where one of the regulars refused to be served by me because of my hair colour. Honestly.
In Connemara there is much superstition about red-heads. If a red-haired woman crosses the path of the fisherman in the morning on their way to their boats they will turn around and go home. A red-haired man on the boat is also believed to attract the attention of the fairies.

3. It is cool having a hair colour that has its own personality. People see red hair and they think fiery personality. If I get mad, which I do sometimes but not often, I know people attribute my temper to my hair colour rather than me have an emotional unstable moment. Hair, for this I love you.

4. We have some wonderful, witty songs written about us. Have a look on the link to hear Tim Minchin's song Prejudice. I laughed my little ginger pants off when I heard it!

5. One of my favourite local legends involves a ginger woman called Máire Rua (Mary with the red hair).
My uncle lives next to her castle and it is on route to my grandmother's house. I loved listening to all the crazy stuff she did when I was a child. Obviously the story was censored within reason when I heard of it but I loved it! 

6.  I loved the Weasleys in Harry Potter. I think they did the gingers proud. Except for Percy. He was just a twat. I felt that I could be a Weasley if I wanted to be!


7. I love the moment when someone make a gingerist (can I make up a word for the purpose of this post?) comment and you realise that they have flecks of ginger in their beard... Awkward!

8. I love that some of my favourite shows are fronted by gingers.
CSI Miami anyone?

9. Favourite movies too...


and finally
10. I love being ginger because it means that I have the cutest kids photos ever!



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

12 years and counting....

It is that time of the year again, my sister's anniversary. 12 years since we bid her farewell.
Well, tomorrow is her anniversary but I am having a very lazy morning and as a result I am writing this today.

For the past 11 years, the entire month of November has been a struggle for me.
In the beginning it was a raw struggle. Every single day from the 10th (her birthday) to the 29th (her anniversary) was like a hot blade slicing through my heart.
I think it is because the loneliness of not having her with us to celebrate her birthday is intensified by the fact that her anniversary is so close, and there is an awareness and an emotional surge in the three weeks between that just lingers in my subconscious.
Now, I definitely do become very low for those three weeks, but it is much easier to bounce out of it as we approach the anniversary and I realise that my irrationality of the last three weeks was simply bottled up emotion from the remaining 49 weeks of the year.

This year was a t…

The day I got a little sister.

Last night, as I got the bus home from work, I got really choked up as the clock turned midnight. Perhaps because I'd been checking product dates all day, I was painfully aware of what date I was stepping into, or perhaps because I had just returned from a trip to Ireland I was painfully aware of it all. I don't know. It's not important.

When I went to bed last night, I started to think about my sister a little more. A lot more. I remember the day she was born. Isn't that weird? I was only 3 years old but I remember. Mam was on the phone from the hospital to Da, and he asked my brother and I if we wanted to speak to our mammy. Naturally we both jumped at the chance to say hi. Our telephone at the time was in the hallway and was a few feet from the ground, so my brother and I had to stand on a chair to speak into it. As the eldest I went first and gushed and oohed as I thought was appropriate. I hopped off my chair and gave the floor to my brother. I was unprepared for…

Let's talk about mental health

I must admit I am a little bit nervous about writing this blog today.
I am afraid that I will get a little too emotional when writing about a topic that is very close to my heart.
I will apologise now for if I ramble or get lost in a stream of consciousness. I hope you can make sense of what I am about to write.

This week, another life was lost to the tragedy that is suicide. I should correct myself, a famous life was lost to suicide. I have no doubt that this week, many families around the world are grieving and trying to figure out why one of their own has taken their own life.

The reason that I want to write this post is simply down to the number of horrible and ignorant comments that I have read on social media about Chester Bennington's death. For me, it highlighted the lack of understanding of mental health in this day and age.

I'm going to take you back on a wee journey with me and tell you why this is such a personal topic and why I feel that it needs to be spoken abou…