Well it’s officially November, so I guess I can FINALLY say this without someone breaking their neck from whipping their head around at me: Happy Fall (and Happy Holidays!) That’s right, I’m calling it and all of you guys can finally leave me alone in my excitement because as of September 22nd IT IS FALL! CAN I PUT UP MY CHRISTMAS TREE NOW?! You guys all know, it’s not a secret, I suffer from severe PDHE. I’ve had it since I was little–Public Display of Holiday Enthusiasm–and a common side effect is launching into seasonal festivities before they’re actually due. Forget this “Official First Day of Season” crap. The calendar I measure all things in life by is the one that Hobby Lobby sends out to their set-up crew employees for those specialty front aisles erected three months before the holiday they’re promoting. In fact, I got so excited for the Christmas aisles going up the day after Halloween last year, that I was with the set-up employees as they put them up: “Um, ma’am, we’re not quite ready yet. You might want to come back tomorrow when we’re finished.” NO, I WANT TO GET MY TINSEL NOW!
“What’s your name tag say? Mary? Yeah thanks, Mary, but no. Let me help! Pass me that box of tinsel. OH MY GOD, Mary! THESE REINDEER PILLOWS MAKE MY HEART SING! What other colors do you have them in?!”
The fact is, one day is simply not enough to celebrate my enthusiasm for holidays. Remember, I’m a self-developing minimalist. Just kidding – sort of, I mean I’m still trying! Minimalist genes don’t run in my family so it’s taking SERIOUS EFFORT (and arm-twisting persuasion by my better half,) and PDHE certainly doesn’t jive well with KonMari’s “does it spark joy?” approach because, in case you haven’t noticed, ALL of the holiday things bring me great joy. Every single last one. My life motto: MORE TINSEL PLEASE!!!! (Marie Kondo can whittle down my collection of holiday knick-knacks when she pries them from my cold, dead hands.)
I find this time of year gets a little tricky though with PDHE. There’s a split crowd, and the ones fighting for the preservation of “the season it still is” (also known as Grinches, Witches, etc.) aren’t always so understanding of premature ejaculation of the holiday spirit. Listen, we can’t help it – it’s a DISEASE, a true mental condition. I once knew a girl (who shall not be named to protect her identity) who posted a photo of a Christmas tree on November 1st with the caption “Yay! It’s that time of year!,” and her social media community paid to have her killed. Okay, I made that up. But I thought I should be transparent here and tell you and that late August, when I post a picture of me on the back porch barefoot with my glass of wine on my Instagram to appease the “Too Early!” crowd, just know that my caption “Still loving summer!” is code for “I’ve already put in 6 hours of research on ways to decorate my front porch with autumn leaves and pumpkins, and there’s a fall wreath already on my front door… and I more than likely already have scarf on AT THIS VERY SECOND.” Okay? Good, glad we’ve got that settled here and now.
Another problem with PDHE is that we’re not really into the subtle decorating thing – by we, I mean I… I AM NOT into subtle decorating. I want our Christmas tree placed in the front window so I (and everyone else) can see it from the road. I want my front door to have a Christmas wreath along with my snowmen on the porch showing how many Christmas adoring people we have in our family! I see your simple white-pumpkin-against-white-walls scene that subtly whispers “faaaaaaallll” (Does it really though?) and I raise you some decorating vomit of a giant “I love fall most of all” sign next to my cornucopia of glittered pumpkins and brand new fall wreath that I just redid and placed on my front door for this very occasion. Why whisper “Fall” when you can scream it? Listen, I don’t do surface relationships well. I want intimacy, and this year will be my 24th year with Fall. “Subtly” isn’t how I want to celebrate; we’re past that. Go ahead, November. You can touch my boobs. (No, Kathryn. I haven’t had a single ounce of tequila.)
Here’s my excuse, are you ready? Brace yourself, this may come to a shock to some of you… Georgia weather is super disheveled. The only thing we really have to launch us into festive displays of enthusiasm are store aisles and the release of merchandise that leaves no room for questioning the calendar. Seriously, last Christmas the weather was nearly in the 80’s but just the week before it was in the low 40’s so can you REALLY blame me? Who needs the sight of the ground hog’s shadow to mark the beginning of spring when there are 200 packages of pink sugar-coated Peeps that told me so in Target three weeks ago? Our hay rides, our pumpkin patches, our beloved Christmas tree farms? Why, we find them in the aisles of Hobby Lobby, in the end caps of Target..
These establishments are holiday churches in a way, and walking through the garland-strung aisles of fall splendor in any of these stores sets off a rush that puts me in a full-flung pleasurable state – at last I am complete. These places are Messengers of God to a PDHE living in the mess of Georgia weather, and because he’s a gracious giver, he grants us access early–pine cone turkeys in September and snow-dusted wreaths in November. Christmas tree little debbie cakes? They leave me with great joy. Football season and colorful falling leaves? Great joy. Heck, even those tacky decorations you put on your vehicle to make it look like Rudolph? Great joy, great joy, great joy.
So, forgive me now as I prematurely break forth into Seasonal Festivities Mode. From here to forth, you may see me in a scarf with my boots on hot days, throwing around the word “cozy” far more times than is deemed necessary and throwing candy corn at my dog because THOSE THINGS ARE JUST PLAIN DISGUSTING (but still in great joy.) “Tone it down” isn’t a phrase you’ll hear around here until the last of Hobby Lobby and Target’s Christmas aisles are picked over and cleared out. It’s time to dial it up–because, after all, it’s Fall.
Happy November, you guys. You’re welcome.