God and Redheads

I can't scream in my dreams. I've tried. It results in becoming very frustrated and waking up to find that I'm making the most bizarre gagging, choking sort of noises. I don't wake up frightened - I typically don't even remember my dreams, I just wake up pissed that I can't scream. I've had only one dream that I actually remember in any detail and that also resulted in waking up frightened.

It was a recurring dream I had when I was younger which involved nothing but a red haired man chasing me into a church. It was understood in this dream that the man was "the devil", but the scariest part was having to run into a church. Church was scarier than the red headed devil and I couldn't get out once the door shut behind me.

Even when younger, I was sure that this dream was only the result of listening to my father rant about redheads and my grandmother perpetually rambling on about the god-fearing nonsense that she seemed to find so much comfort in.

My father was of the opinion that redheads where the result of some sort of unfortunate genetic fuck up. Evidence of this fuck up was abundant....they burn easy, have extra sensitive skin, eyelashes that can sometimes seem to be altogether missing, and most importantly, their hair was actually red. In my father's opinion, redheads qualified for their own handicapped parking spots and they should avoid breeding (He had similar opinions regarding the French and anyone with an accent). My grandmother's ramblings tended to focus more on the warm and cozy story that unfolds in the Bible...most specifically that cuddly little bedtime story also known as Revelations, but with the stoning of whores and tales of a woman's place always at the ready when Armagedden grew tiresome.

I first had the redheaded devil dream when I was about 8. Though I had the same dream off and on for more than a year I didn't tell anyone because what was more frightening than the dream itself was the prospect of having it "cured" by Grandma upping the weekly dosage of the bible and I didn't care to offer my father any more irrefutable evidence that redheads shouldn't exist - what with the freckles and such, they've suffered enough.

It's never occured to me to offer this little bit of personal trivia when asked to explain my tendencies to occassionally dye my hair bright red even though it clearly doesn't suit me, to very nearly throw up over any discussion of theology and to discard the notion of a woman's good and wholesome place while indulging in the act of selling my fine ass.

God still scares me more than any redheaded devil ever could.

Miss Jones

Posted by Miss Meretrix Jones at 6:07 PM