THIS IS A TEST...

Eva Young said, "To think too long about doing a thing often becomes its undoing."

Back in 1991, I completed all but one college course in Real Estate.  I was taking the classes while changing my life from being a Wedding Consultant to the legal side of Mortgage Banking.  The great misnomer in Real Estate and Mortgage Lending is that someone will train you.  HA!  As frightening as it might seem to clients - it is all trial by fire.  The best you get is a pat on the back and "Good luck kid". 

No formal license was needed since everything I handled in Real Estate was licensed by the Dept of Corporations - not the DRE.  Much of what I accomplished involved being an efficiency expert (streamlining old processes); research into laws and regulations and finally training.  It was only in the last few years I migrated over to sales.  Being a Wholesale loan broker was no picnic and I wondered where this career would take me. There was a time I went back to school and completed a 300 hour Computer Information System Professional course (then MCSE testing) looking to move away from Mortgage Banking.

I spent a little over a year as a Network Technician for a start-up telecom company, but the company went under (too many private corporate jets) and I was sucked back into Mortgage Banking.  I love all things technical, but learned quickly that an IT career, although fun, can place a great deal of pressure on people to work absurdly long hours away from home.  It was always difficult balancing Brian and the IT career I loved.

Finally, after being qualified to do so since 1991, on January 2nd 2007 I registered  to take my DRE licensing test.  This is the project I have been working on.  At the end of 2006 I decided 2007 was going to be the year I finish old goals and move on to new ones.  Thepast four years discovering my Hashimotos, being treated and recovering has been the longest period since early childhood I have gone without achieving a difficult goal.

My life hung in suspension, as if someone pressed the pause button on the remote control of my life.  I have dreams - great visions of what I want to do, but the last four years just kicked my ass to the floor.  It felt like my life was super glued to a Hamster wheel.  I was spinning and spinning; going round and around.

So I mused that if I achieved some small goals - even if they felt as if they were in the opposite direction of where I want to take my life - the simple act of doing this would create that "tiny snowball beginning to roll off the top of the mountain" effect.  Then change could begin the "snowball rolling downhill gathering volume" effect.  Maybe this "spinning" in my life could be turned into rolling towards something...  I also decided to go back and fix some goals that went off track many years ago - before my marriage and the life thereafter.

The last weekend in January I attended a weekend exam prep course.  There I ran into an old friend's son who has known me in the business for years.  He grinned when he recognized me and gave me a big hug.  I can't believe this friend has a son in his twenties.  When did this happen?  OIY I am not this old... After filling him in on what has been happening with me, I asked him if I seem different.  I have known this kid since he was 9; he is now in his 20's.  He grins, "No - you still look like fun".  HA.

The next day (when I chose to sit in the back of the class to change the view) I make a smart remark under my breath about one of the students toward the front, causing the guys around me to laugh out loud.  This kid to turns around and says, "See - you are the same!"  It was reassuring as hell.  I must be slowly coming back.

The trainer in this weekend class was amazing.  Trust me, as one ex real estate trainer about another, we are P I C K Y when it comes to teachers.  This trainer was Richard Dryfus's twin in looks and actions, and could certainly kick my butt in stand-up delivery presentation.  At the end of the weekend I discover we have mutual friends, even though he lives three hours away and has met my son.  If these aren't my G*damned signs then I don't know what is.

I left for Sacramento that Monday to stay with my friends Elisabet and Chris.  I was shocked when we realize it has been a year since I have driven the relatively short distance to their home in Folsom.  Why we tend to do this with our friends is beyond me.  It was wonderful to spend time with them.  They are so wonderful to me. 

Tuesday was test day and I have to say, that was hell.  When finished, I was sure I didn't pass.  Elisabet and Chris took me out to dinner and offered plenty of wine to move me from exhausted test taker to fun redhead.  Elisabet then took me to her new favorite hot spot, where we sat outside drinking our last glass of wine while a line of people formed at the door to get in to this spot.  I kept laughing, asking her if these people knew it was  Tuesday night.  Her response is that it is always like this.  The town I live in doesn't look this much fun on a Friday night - let alone a Tuesday.  These are not all college kids either.

Wednesday I said my goodbyes and drove back to Sonoma County, convinced I would be traveling back in a month to re-take my test.  Today I was notified...

Holy S H I T ... 

I PASSED.

Goal number one is out of the way.

It's a beginning ...

Somewhere a little snowball has started to roll down a mountain.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

Tags: Redheads, goals, DRE, snow, tests, friends

JANUARY IS THYROID AWARENESS MONTH

As many of you know by reading this blog, I suffer from Hashimoto's disease.  It took a team of doctors over two years to figure out what was happening, even though my Irish grandmother died from complications of Celiac disease.  She also had a goiter.

Hashimoto's disease, also known as chronic lymphocytic thyroiditis, causes inflammation of the thyroid gland, which leads to hypothyroidism. It's an autoimmune disorder in which the immune system inappropriately attacks the thyroid gland, causing damage to thyroid cells and upsetting the balance of chemical reactions in the body.

Unfortunately, the signs and symptoms of hypothyroidism vary widely, depending on the severity of hormone deficiency, so it can lead doctors in another direction. At first, most barely notice symptoms, such as fatigue and sluggishness and attribute it to getting older. But as the disease progresses, many of us develop more obvious signs and symptoms.  I believe I have been dealing with this condition my whole life and it finally took me down (literally), forcing doctors to look at all disease possibilities.

My symptoms were:

-Sensitivity to cold. (I always had these strange "cold attacks" where I'd get cold and nothing raised my temperature.  It is a type of hypothermia, and hot showers left me shivering in the shower.  One solution was to take a blanket and cover me over a blowing heater vent. I'd became exhausted, still shivering and fall asleep.  I awoke feeling hung-over as if I ate too much sugar.  It was the strangest event, which happened without warning.  My doctor felt I was experiencing a mild form of Myxedema).
-Pale, dry skin. (No cream ever worked on alleviating this condition.  It would go away when the sun came out and I went outside).
-A puffy face.
-Hoarse voice. (especially when exhausted).
-Unexplained weight gain, followed by weight loss, then gain again without changing lifestyle.
-Muscle aches, tenderness and stiffness, especially in shoulders and hips. (I always attributed this to ballet combined with ice skating; then aerobics combined with weight lifting and standing on my feet all day; then hiking too much on theweekends with this crazy boot camp work out class during the week.  I never thought I wasn't suppose to be sore).
-Pain and stiffness in joints and swelling in knees or the small joints in hands and feet. (I thought this was from the 17 years I spent dancing on my toes and bending like a pretzel for ballet).
-Muscle weakness, especially in lower extremities. (I started noticing if I wasn't careful and turned wrong I'd have a nasty fall.  The first few times it happened I thought nothing of it, but after a while it began to scare me.  It was one of the symptoms which began to concern my doctor, as I was often black and blue from a recent fall.)
-Excessive or prolonged menstrual bleeding (menorrhagia). (I think this symptom speaks for itself...)
-Depression. (I caught on to this right away and was up in my doctors face.  I was working out too much to be depressed, and refused anti-depressents.  Luckily my doctor knew me for 18 years and was aware this was not me).
-Tingling and numbing of hands and feet.  (My hands or feet would go to sleep for no apparent reason).
-Catching many colds.  (I seemed to catch every cold and often it would turn into bronchitis).                  
-Sleep apnea. (Good lord the problems I had with sleeping!!)
-Memory problems. (Trouble remembering directions, confusion when driving, and not remembering details of information I once found easy).                               
-Hair loss. (Sort of a male pattern baldness thing with thinning hair - THANK GOODNESS this was reversed with the medication!)
-Extreme fatigue. (I could sleep for days and felt such lethargy, that at one point I wished to die.  Luckily I live for Brian, called my doctor and had someone drive me to see him.  He gave me a shot of B12 and changed my thyroid meds).

The thyroid gland produces two main hormones, thyroxine (T-4) and triiodothyronine (T-3). They maintain the rate at which the body uses fats and carbohydrates, control body temperature, influence heart rate and helpregulate the production of protein.

The rate at which T4 and T3 are released is controlled by the pituitary gland and the area at the base of the brain, which acts as a thermostat for our system. The brain signals the pituitary gland to make thyroid-stimulating hormone (TSH).  The pituitary gland then releases an amount of TSH depending on how much T4 and T3 are in the blood. The thyroid gland regulates its production of these two hormones based on the amount of TSH it receives.

Normally, our immune system uses antibodies and lymphocytes to protect against viruses, bacteria and antigens that invade the body. As I stated at the beginning, Hashimoto's disease is an autoimmune disorder in which the immune system creates antibodies which damage the thyroid gland. The disease causes inflammation of the thyroid gland, known as "thyroiditis".  This can impair the ability of the thyroid to produce hormones, leading to hypothyroidism.

Doctors don't know what causes an immune system toattack the thyroid gland. Some scientists think a virus or bacteria might trigger the response, while others believe a genetic flaw may be involved.  My mother has thyroid nodules and elevated TSH.

Since my Hashimoto's disease caused a thyroid hormone deficiency, I needed replacement therapy with thyroid hormone. This involves a daily dose of Armour Thyroid and Cytomel, other people may be prescribed levothyroxine. This medication is suppose to restore hormone levels and reverse the symptoms listed above. It has taken me another two years after starting treatment to begin to feel better.  They say it can take time to reverse symptoms, especially if the disease went untreated for a number of years.

Here are a list of websites for more information:

AllThyroid.org

Celiac Disease Foundation

The Thyroid Foundation of Canada

Thyroid Disease-Org.UK

Endocrine Disorders

Genetics Home Reference

Dr Lowe

A Hashimotos story like mine

Another Hashimotos Story

Myxedema

Armour Thyroid Information

At first the diagnosis and day to day dealing with the idea of a "disease" was difficult and frightening.  Doctors don't say much when they deliver a diagnosis.  As patients we are often left to search for our own answers ... and hope.  Thank God for the Internet, books and medical studies.

There is also the worry of being able to handle one's life and how 'unsexy' the word "disease" can be.  We think some foolish thoughts before we settle into the idea that we are stronger mentally than we ever knew.  We fight back, manage the pills and get on with the day to day living of our lives.

I still have good days and bad days.  There are the occasional "crashes", where for some reason the meds don't work and some difficult symptom reappears.  I think this is the cycle of auto-immunity.  When I catch a simple cold now (it is rare) the old feelings of exhaustion return and fear overtakes my thoughts.  I have to remind myself it is "just a cold". In a few days I will be up and running again.  I rest, then recover - thrilled that my body is doing what it is meant to - heal.

Some people overcome this disease, and for some strange reason the body stops attacking the thyroid and TSH returns to normal.   For me, I am not sure about the outcome since I think I went too many years undiagnosed.  But we know me - I love that word H O P E.  It is the sweet wine of belief fruit that is my life.

"Sanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be".  ~Don Quixote

Until next time-

C 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com, Hashimotos, hypothyroidism, thyroid, Armour, CFS

I haven't moved my blog over yet

Sorry - I am still writing at AOL. I haven't had the extra time to move my blog over. I have been thinking of starting a new one about "Sinfindel Times" Life as a redhead in Wine Country. Being a third generation of Northern California Pioneers, I know much about Sonoma County, wine, apples and traffic.

My current blog is at: http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

I will let you know when I have made the offical shift.

Catherine

EVERYBODY ... PLAY BALL!

It's official.

I am entering the black tunnel years.  You know ... the years where parents misplace large segments of their lives being taxi-drivers, cheerleaders, event coordinators, and time managers.

Brian is starting baseball next month.  Practice is twice a week with games twice a week.  Did I say I wanted a life?

(Sigh) B A S E B A L L

My biggest fear is how much he loves it.  I see my future and it smells like dirt, spit and sweaty socks. 

Until next time-

C 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: baseball, redheads, parenting, little league, boys

I HAD A BANNER...

There is this joke:

"How do you anger a redhead?"

"By breathing."

I am aware of the feisty, ill-tempered redhead rumors.  It takes a great deal to push me into losing my temper.  I do try to control being baited into an argument.  REALLY.  When someone pisses me off - back away - I am going to say what I think and yell when I am saying it.  I'd label me more the feisty type.

It's funny, because I never yell at Brian.  I would never yell at young kids anyways.  Brian does his best and I recognize this.  When he is way out of line, I comment, "You should go in your room to protect yourself from me right now."  He will respond with, "I know" and escape to his bedroom sanctuary. His room is fully equipped with a TV, stereo, cool bed and video games.  (A rough life).  Maybe I should go to his room and he should stay in the kitchen and clean.  He is smarter than I thought.  After about 15 minutes in his castle, he will come out and apologize for his attitude.  He thinks it is funny when I warn him to leave the room when he pushes me too far.

The African buffalo is known for its bad temper, and won’t hesitate to fight. It will defend its territory, mates, and calves at all costs and has been known to attack and kill lions, leopards, hyenas, and even humans if needed.  Many people consider it to be the most dangerous mammal in Africa.  Some would say this also adequately describes a redhead.  Maybe a crazy redhead, but I have known more blondes who  fit this description.

Me with a bad temper....?...I usually beg to differ, except for last night at Brian's basketball practise.

(I am sorry for the break in continuing this story.  I came down with a sinus infection that knocked me to the curb).

Brian and I arrive at practise a half hour early, because my son can nag the hide off a grizzly bear.  "Mom, can we go now?  Can we go NOW? Can we go now...? MOM, can WE go now?..." Youget the idea... but GOD FORBID Ineed to go somewhere. Then,  his feet conveniently drag and he becomes hard of hearing.

As we walk from the parking lot towards the courtyard outside the gym, we pass one of Brian's team mates and his dad.  They are walking to the parking lot.  There has been this ongoing time issue with the last few practices.  The Christian high school  basketball team has been practicing a half hour into the practise of the grade school league.  To add further fire to the flame, the high school coach doesn't want anyone in the gym while his players are on the court.  (Because the high school team might "go all the way" to the "most unknown team in history" ).  This has caused an argument between the coaches about when the high school team is actually finished with practise.

As with all things volunteer, no one seems to take charge or solve this dilemma.  You'd think they were voting to raise the minimum wage. For three weeks we are told practise will definitely start at 7:00pm, only to have the high school coach continue with his team until 7:30.  It was supposedly solved.

Uh huh.

As we pass the dad leaving with his son, he stops to tell us the coach to the high school team won't let him in the gym and practise can't start until 7:30.  He is angry enough to leave.  His son looks like someone shot his dog. 

I look at Brian (who lives for this evening) and tell him we can go play basketball together on the outside courtyard.  Relieved, Brian looks at me like men have looked at me when I say I understand football.  He is certain I can't possibly know how to sink a ball into a hoop.  But his yearning to play overcomes his certainty that his mother lacks a skill which doesn't involve cooking or cleaning. He runs to the courtyard where there are several basketball courts.

I set my coat, purse and book down on a picnic table to join Brian on the court.  Since this is a small school, the outdoor lights work about as well as a candle in a cave.  I miss my first couple of shots and Brian grins the kind of grin where he is thinking, "girls...".  On my third try, I make a shot and he congratulates me.  How did I ever know how to do anything before he was around to tell me?

We enjoy playing in the dark until one of the other boys arrives with his dad.  I throw the ball to the kid and walk away to sit on the picnic table.  I am smart enough to know when a parent is no longer needed.  His dad wanders the courtyard.  Several more kids and their parents arrive.  I am still sitting off in the dark, and the parents find odd places to sit while we wait for the gym to open.

Brian's coach arrives next. He spots me first, even though I am sitting in the dark.  He walks up and asks why we aren't in the gym.  I tell him about the first boy who left and we can't be in the gym until 7:30pm.  The coach sighs, mumbling this was suppose to be solved. He walks to the gym to find out what is going on.  I sit back down and continue to watch the boys.

Brian's best friend on the team's dad follows the coach to the gym.  He stands outside the doors, pacing back and forth waiting for the coach.  Suddenly, I hear this loud voice yell, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Being that I am at a Christian school, and having never actually heard the voice of God, (as a redhead) I am certain he would yell the first time he wants to speak to me.  I look up, to my right, then to my left and all around the courtyard and I don't see anyone.  Maybe this is my sign? Then, the voice says,

"HEY! I AM TALKING TO YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!"

The boys stop playing to look around; I look around.  Again we can't figure out where the voice is coming from.  I assume it is someone in the gym and we are hearing it outside.  I look up - just to make sure there isn't a burning bush, a flashing star or some sort of sign from God that I might be over-looking. I haven't committed a mortal sin in ages, so what would God want with me in the middle of a dark basketball court in rural Northern California? 

Again, the voice yells,

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?  DON'T YOU RESPOND WHEN SOMEONE IS TALKING TO YOU??"

This time he continues yelling, which gives me enough time (with the echo of the large courtyard) to figure out where the voice is coming from.  I spot this man at the far end of the courtyard, standing at a door, yelling towards the gym.  I realize this is our yeller.  The boys look to me asking if he is yelling at them, to which I respond, "He better not be. Go ahead and play boys." 

The man walks off his platform. He is still yelling.  It dawns on me that this man is yelling at the back of Brian's best friend's dad.  The dad has been slowly walking back toward the boys.  I watch as this short, fat, scruffy-looking man tries to catch up with the dad.  By the time he reaches him, they are next to the boys on the court.  He gets beside the dad and yells,

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?  WHAT, YOU DON"T UNDERSTAND ENGLISH YOU..."

I should stop here to say that the dad is Hispanic.

Before the nasty man can yell another word in front of the boys (here goes the redhead) I yell (calmly),

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT MISTER.  DON'T YOU DARE.  STOP IT RIGHT NOW! YOU WILL NOT SAY WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO SAY WHILE I AM SITTING HERE AS A WITNESS!  NOT IN FRONT OF THESE BOYS.  DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT - I AM WARNING YOU!"

Shocked, the yelling man stops in mid-breath and squints his eyes to see who is sitting in the dark.  The boy's dad (who the yelling guy was about to say something bigoted)  has stepped back and is looking down, as if willing to take what this jerk is about to say.  The yelling man begins to yell over at me,

"I WATCH FOR SECURITY HERE AND WHEN I SEE SOMETHING SUSPICIOUS IT IS MY JOB TO FIND OUT WHAT IS GOING ON!"

Now I should saythat this so-called security guy is in a dirty white t-shirt, with a belly that hangs 50 inches over his jeans, which sit on his hips so low it is really the upper thigh, exposing his belly button.  His belly button is the size of a football, and covered in grey hair.  He needs a shave and looks like someone who just woke up from sleeping in the park.  A gum wrapper left in a parking lot is cleaner than this guy. Security my ass.  He is the scariest person here.

I respond, calmly yelling back,

"THIS IS WHY YOU ARE BOTHERING HIM?  WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF US?? I AM TELLING YOU TO STOP IT NOW!  I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO DO AND I AM THE WRONG WOMAN TO PISS OFF, TRUST ME ON THIS. I WOULD STOP NOW IF I WERE YOU."

(Little did I know, at this moment Brian is huddling with the boys and saying, "Don't worry. NO ONE messes with my mother - just watch.")

I can tell the man is sizing me up, but confused, as I sit there in a business suit and a long black trench coat with my long red hair.  I can tell he is thinking he should be careful, but is too angry and has too much of an ego to listen to a woman.  It is obvious he has not caught the fact that my hair is red.

He begins to turn back to yell at the man, when I stand up and say,

"Look you poor excuse for a representation of the male species.  It is obvious to me by the dirt on your body that you never wash your ears, so I am going to assume they are filled with so much wax that you can't hear me when I say you will stop this right now. I am the wrong woman for you to continue this argument, since you don't know whether or not I am a complete nut-case, for which I just might be.  And since I don't give a crap what you think,  and unlike you I have showered this week, I can say with conviction that you will wish to your dying day that you never met me and that you would have stopped when I asked you.  Am I making myself clear or do I have to move closer to draw you a more unpleasant picture?"

The man has stopped with his mouth open as the boys stare from me to him, me to him, me to him.  By this time the coach has come out of the gym to witness the last part of the scene.  The other parents are beginning to stand. He walks straight up to the man and asks,

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

The security guy, who is really the janitor turns to the coach and tries one last yell to which the coach tells the man to go back to his room.  They exchange a few words.  The man mumbles as he walks off back to his hole.  The coach grins at me and says,

"I'd ask if you are allright, but I can tell you don't need my help."

I laugh and sit back down.  Brian runs over and sits next to me. He is grins and says, "Mom, you are so cool."  I know he understood what was really coming down.  He was proud that I didn't let the yelling janitor say something awful to his friend's dad, and humiliate his friend.  There was just no way in hell I was going to allow that to happen. 

Well, there would be that "redheaded temper" thingy in action.

It has been said, Joan of Arc was a redhead.

Until next time-

C

PS.  I have now been invited to three different boys homes for dinner...

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com, Redheads, Joan of Arc, bigotry, anger, basketball, ice storms

REDHEAD FIRST IMPRESSIONS

It is sometimes strange being a redhead (no sh** you say?).  Where it can be most curious is with statements that occasionally fall from a man's mouth.  It can be worse on the Internet where anonymity is protected. 

Once, when I was out dancing with a group of college girlfriends, an unknown guy approaches me. He looks nice enough - clean cut.  You know, the kind of guy who looks like you can take him home to meet your mother.  I think he is about to ask me to dance, when he smiles and says,

"Wow.  I love redheads.  Would you like to go to my place and fu**?"

My girlfriends stand frozen, stunned.  It pisses me off enough to want to slap him, but luckily hold my wits about me and reply,

"I'd rather take up yoga and learn to lick myself."

Shocked at my quick response, he chokes on to what to say next.  My girlfriends explode in hysterical laughter.  He apologizes for bothering me and walks away. What a little boy. 

On what planet did he think that pick up line ever worked? 

It wasn't the first or the last time guys would say stupidly offensive comments like:

"Are you a real redhead?"

(I am thinking....No, I am faking it along with my freckles, pale skin and orgasms.)

For the record: I am the real e v e r y t h i n g.

"Do the collar and cuff match?" or "Do the carpet and drapes match?"

(I am thinking...Do the brain cells in your penis and head match?)

"Do you like to fu**?"

(I am thinking ...Do you like little boys?)

"Prove you are a redhead!"

(I am thinking ... Do I burn your house down?  Will that work?)

"Are you good in bed?"

(I am thinking ... I am good at snoring, farting, bed wetting - ANYTHING that will turn YOU off.)

I don't know where these guys think it will go after offending a redhead.  We shift these boy-men to a certain category with the boys in school that throw rocks at girls, barf in the back of cars and pass out at public functions.  They are to be avoided at all cost.

There are so many amazing comments a man can say, which will leave a redhead wanting more - possibly interested for a lifetime.  I doubt any of the boy-men will  stumble upon this redhead secret.

And I am not about to tell.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/
Tags: Redheads, Stupid questions

Http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

ENDANGERED SPECIES

My dear friend Dale sends me the following email.  I am not quite sure if this is a desire on his part, or a warning (this is great because I have been lax in my writing and this strikes me as hilarious)-

Will rare redheads be extinct by 2100?

By Robin L. Flanigan
Rochester (N.Y.) Democrat and Chronicle

Article:  She was just walking down the street with her sister, in her old neighborhood, when an elderly woman stopped her car in front of her and called out, "I love your hair! It's so beautiful!" Caitlin Tydings was about 8 then, and caught off guard. Now a high-school senior, she has since grown accustomed to strangers commenting on her strawberry-blond locks.

[Me:  ... and her pale white pasty skin, fondly known as "Chalkcasian"; the 10,000,000 freckles of various shades of brown, shapes and odd sizes and let's not forget the red "ruddy" hue to her skin in odd patches at strange times... this HAD to be her grandma shouting...]

Article: If predictions by the Oxford Hair Foundation come to pass, the number of natural redheads everywhere will continue to dwindle until there are none left by the year 2100.

[Me:  Is this a dream or mere speculation by men who have dated, married, or talked with us...?]

Article: The reason, according to scientists at the independent institute in England, which studies all sorts of hair problems, is that just 4 percent of the world's population carries the red-hair gene. The gene is recessive and therefore diluted when carriers produce children with people who have the dominant brown-hair gene.

[Me:  At first I read "recessive" as "regressive' and took offense, although if we use this word instead ... it might explain a great deal about me and the men I date.]

Article: Dr. John Gray's explanation of his foundation's findings: "The way things are going, red hair will either be extremely rare or extinct by the end of the century."

[Me:  I am picturing all my ex's lining up to ask for a more exact date, time, and place. I think we have given them hope and a new meaning to their lives.]

Article: Red hair certainly has made the endangered list. But with 4 percent of 6.4 billion people carrying the gene, says University of Rochester Medical Center's David Pearce, it is too large a figure to be wiped out completely in the next 95 years.

[Me:   Great, so now I am on a list with the African wild ass, the Black rhino, the Pygmy hog, Visayan warty pig and the illustrious Bactrian camel.  Any resemblance to fellow endangered species is purely speculative, although there may be people who beg to differ.] 

Article: "I think someone may want to check their calculator," Pearce says. The red-hair gene "will dilute out and become rare, but there are a variety of other factors that can change hair color that are not really understood well right now." The gene responsible for red hair was only discovered in the late 1990s. People have a good chance of being born with red hair if they have a mutation of that gene.

[Me:  I just love being described as recessive, endangered and mutant.  Did me and the scientist date at some point in my past?  Throw in a little affliction, fascination,  perturbation then stir and we've got a pretty good description of life with a redhead...]

Article: Red hair is found in all ethnic backgrounds but is most commonly associated with people of Celtic descent. Red hair skipped two generations before sprouting on Brianna McBride, a 5-year-old preschooler from Penfield, N.Y. It comes from her great-grandmother on her father's side.

[Me:  Luckily, not the mailman...]

Article: "As a baby, we'd be in the store and people would always try to touch her head. She didn't like that, so she was very shy," recalls her mom, Alice. As Brianna got older, "we started to point out other redheads, and she started understanding." Now, her mom adds, "she looks forward to the attention. She has really learned how to use it."

[Me:  Note to her mother- RUN FOR YOUR LIFE now while you still have your wits about you.]

Why redheads are news fit to print is beyond me.  Maybe it was a slow day in New York, or the scientist at Oxford woke up with one shaved eyebrow, soap on his toothbrush, all toilet paper missing, and his fingernails painted bright red after telling his redheaded girlfriend he wanted to see other people ... He was hoping all redheads will soon disappear from the face of the earth...

Yeah, but we will be messing with heavens above ... there is just no escaping us.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: Endangered species, redheads, men who have dated redheads, hope, science