Synesthesia sucks. Even numbers are weak. Odd numbers are strong. Yellow is weak, so most of the even numbers are yellow. I have an unfortunate perception of natural blondes as weak, and need to continually remind myself that it’s a phantasm my stupid brain invented out of whole cloth. If you are blonde, and your name starts with a yellow letter, like H, and then you have an even number of letters in your name, I don’t want to be in a foxhole with you.
It’s the most ridiculous sort of prejudice to have, but there it is.
Red it the strongest color– but a little too strong– it teeters into cruelty. Blue, on the other hand, is heroic: strong, but kind. So, of course, my favorite color. Everything around me is blue. An experience for me can be ruined by not getting the blue whatever.
I remember once in preschool the teachers were handing out cups of water at snack. Usually, the cups were Dixie cups with a blue pattern, but today, inexplicably, they were red, and I started crying inconsolably. And I was not a child who cried. I didn’t cry on the first day, I didn’t cry when I fell off the monkey bars, nor when time ran out, and I didn’t get a turn with some toy. I just wasn’t a crier. And in this case, I didn’t even really know what was wrong, just that something was, was very, very wrong.
The Little Hours 