IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF YEAR (BEDS 003)

YES, SIR, FRIENDS, YOU HEARD RIGHT! There are now only ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!

I do this every year. Y'all already know this. The second my birthday passes, I whip old the 'ol Santa hat and start blasting those Christmas carols nonstop through to December 25th. (Except not really, because I think my roommates would probably kick me out, and I rather like having a roof over my head.)

What is it about Christmas that motivates me to drive everyone around me insane? It's the jingle bells, the jolly tunes, the cool crisp air that comes as the season draws closer. It's the first blanket of snow on a quiet morning, the sparkle of streelights against the frozen crystals after the sun sets.  It's the way the night sky looks before snowfall--like dawn is fast approaching, when it's still several hours away. It's the satisfaction of a perfectly wrapped present, the glitter that covers my desk after writing out a hundred cards. It's the light of a Christmas tree, the warmth of hot chocolate under a heavy blanket, the fuzzy Christmas specials that air every year.

It's the excitement. It's coming upstairs on Christmas morning to my little sister perched eagerly in front of Santa's gifts. It's the mad rush of decorating sugar cookies, and inadvertently covering every square inch of the kitchen table in icing. It's the quiet peace of Christmas afternoon, when the madness is over and all that's left is the company of your loved ones. It's the joy of seeing your favourite people light up at the sight of the Perfect Gift.

Christmas is and probably always will be my favourite time of year--the day I lose my Christmas spirit is the day humanity has lost all glimmer of hope. Until then, I will continue to count down the days in my overly-eager anticipation.

And you'll stick around and enjoy it, because you don't have a choice.

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: The First Leaf

At exactly 3:42 on a Tuesday afternoon, the first leaf of autumn fell. Everyone knew it was coming—the leaves were all shades of golden and auburn, and the sun was beginning to set early in the evening. It was only a matter of time before one gust of wind carried enough chill to pluck the dying leaf from its branch, lowering it gently to the ground.

This moment of contact, the first of many, marked the official End of Summer. It was the point of no return, the first preparation for winter. The moment you know that there will be no more warm days on the forecast, and that every risk of rain would quickly become a risk of snow. It’s the moment everyone finally packs away their shorts and tank tops, dares to put the sunscreen farther back in the bathroom cabinet. It’s the moment every child finally accepts that school is back for the long run, and when every parent realizes that Christmas is just around the corner.

The first leaf marks an end, a beginning, and the beginning of a larger end as we enter the final quarter of the year. It holds all the memories of a summer gone, and all the possibilities of a year yet to come. It’s not only the essence of change, but a reminder that some things never do.

New York, New York

I have always, always, always, always, always wanted to live in New York. I am entirely aware that this is a notion spurred by movies, and television shows, and books that romanticize this idea of living in the "greatest city in the world". I'm not even sure I ever want to follow through with this desire, because there is no way it will live up to what I envision it to be

And yet, today I watched You've Got Mail for probably the hundredth time in my life, and found myself wishing once again.

I've always loved that movie. Maybe it's the books. Maybe it's the romance. Maybe it's the fact that it's always had a very cool, autumn vibe, because that's when the story starts off. Or maybe because, just like Mr. Joe Fox, I love the idea of New York in the fall.

It was fourteen degrees today, as we packed up the car and headed home after a visit in Regina. It's the coldest I've seen since spring faded into summer over three months ago, and the second time I've chosen pants over shorts in the last week. Two weeks ago I did my back-to-school clothes shopping, picking up sweaters and jeans and other clothes suitable for chilly weather. In another seven days, my birthday will be here, and school will follow shortly after.

Summer is nearing an end. Even though the temperatures are set to climb high once again in the coming week, and will very likely stay that way for a while yet, the sweet, sweet freedom of a student's summer will soon be over.

It kinda sucks, sure. I'll be sad to hide away my sundresses, of course. But I love fall, and the winter that follows. I love curling up under blankets, having a warm cup of hot chocolate to accompany a movie. I even love the fresh start a new school year brings--y'know, before the assignments and exams start. 

When fall comes, I will gladly welcome it with open arms.

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: Seasons

When the year began, the trees looked dead. They weren’t dead, of course, but with their bare branches stretching out against the grey, sunless sky, they sure looked like it. By January, everyone was done with the holiday season, and the noticeable lack of cheery lights and jingly music made everything look dull in comparison. It was like the magic of Christmas had disappeared overnight, forcing us back into our dreary, everyday lives. “You had your fun,” the season mocked. “Now, back to work!”

When the kids shed their winter coats, the sun was warmer. The snow melted away as the rain returned, growing the grass greener and sprouting flowers up between the cracks in the pavement. The trees regained their livelihood, and the seasons bled together as the temperature rose. The sun stayed up longer, and campfires began to dot the town, keeping the same fiery light alive long into the night.

When the school bells rang once more, the seasons were distinct again. The air was brisker, the wind sharper, cutting through sweaters like a paper edge through skin. Footsteps crinkled and cracked as boots shifted through beds of fallen leaves, the wind picking them up and blowing them across the pavement.

And as the year came to a close, it looked about the same as it had at the start, and entirely different. A certain excitement buzzed in the air, held tight with jingle bells and happy tunes. Lights twinkled in the sky, flickering and shimmering like artificial stars. It felt like magic, supercharged by a large bearded man and held strong by the smiles of children on Christmas morning.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Holiday Retail (Micro-Fiction Monday)

I hate Christmas. How can I not, really, when the scratchy PA system is blaring Christmas carols louder than it should be, threatening to blow the speakers at any moment? How can I not, when seemingly everyone within a twenty mile radius has left the majority of their Christmas shopping until December freaking 23^rd, and somehow have fallen under the misguided impression that I am to blame?

Working retail is bad enough. Retail during the holidays? I’d rather saw off my arm and cook it for Christmas dinner.

“I have a coupon!” one woman screams at me.

“That coupon expired yesterday,” I try to explain to her, for what was probably the twentieth time.

"I just got it in the mail yesterday!” she yells. “How can it be expired already?”

How can I not hate Christmas when the general public makes it so damn easy?

I’m not a big fan of the snow, either. Or the cold that comes with it. I’m bundled up so much that I take up twice as much room as I barrel through the mall, eager to get out before I start sweating under all of my layers. Nobody apologizes when they bump into me; neither do I.

I pause in front of the entrance to yet another busy store, the crowd so thick that even with the padding of my parka, I can’t plow my way through. Someone touches my shoulder. I brush them off, ready to keep moving, until a candy cane is thrust into my face.

I snatch it and turn, my glare cranked up to death level. Once I get a look at him, though, it’s incredibly hard to keep my glare steady; he’s standing next to the entrance of whatever store—a boutique, I think—wearing a ridiculous elf costume, complete with goofy shoes and a hate covered in jingle bells. A basket was hanging in the crook of his arm, filled with more striped candy canes.

He grins at me. “Merry Christmas!”

I turn away quickly, face reddening. “Merry Christmas,” I mumble, hurrying along.

I look back once, before I turn the corner. I can barely see him through the busy shoppers, smiling and offering candy canes to everyone who walks by. He doesn’t seem to be working for the mall or any store in particular—he’s just here to hand out candy canes because he wants to.

His smile must be contagious, because I catch myself smiling a real smile for the first time today.

~~

Until later,

- Justyme

Forever (Micro-Fiction Monday) (BEDS #29)

There was a gentle snowfall that morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet; not like he would have been able to tell through the cloudy skies, anyway. It was so early that the buses hadn’t started for the day yet, and although he tried to hail a taxi, he had had little luck. So he ran.

                

Running in the winter is an act that requires a lot of talent. It was the middle of the season; the snow on the sidewalk had long since been packed down, trampled by the hundreds of thousands of feet that had taken the same path before him. It made the ground beneath his boots uneven. His feet slipped and slid on the ice, his balance threatening to give out.

                

But still, he would not be deterred. He only had one chance, and he was running out of time.

                

The wind felt like a whip against his unprotected face. His nose and ears were numb, and every inch of his uncovered skin felt stiff in the cold. The cold air went right through his jeans, which cooled his legs down more than they warmed him up. He couldn’t feel his toes anymore.

                

The light of the train station in the winter morning was like seeing an oasis in the desert—but hearing the sharp whistle of the train sounded more like the sound a heart monitor makes after death. Gone.

                

He picked up his pace. He didn’t slow down as he burst through the windowed doors, not even has the snow caked on the bottom of his boots sent him sliding halfway to the platform. He rounded the corner, just as the tail end of the train vanished out of sight completely.

                

She was gone…forever.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Falling into Autumn (BEDS #9)

The title was so cringe worthy that I had to use it.

Now I know that, according to the calendar, it's still technically summer. And I know that, in some places, it still feels like summer.

But here, it does not. Today, it was 11 degrees (Celsius), and cloudly, and overall about as far from summer as you can get without adding multi-colourful leaves and six feet of snow piled on the ground. It was cold, and miserable, and all in all not the day I would typically enjoy.

Maybe it's because I just got back from Florida, where it's a humid 40 degrees every day and 95% of my time was spent outdoors, but for once, I welcomed this lower temperature. I love summer, always have and always will. I adore winter, too. But I always forget how much I appreciate fall until it comes around.

Again, I love summer. I love the heat, and eating ice cream and drinking iced capps. I love wearing tank tops and shorts and sundresses and flip flops--my cutest outfits are made for summer. Even now, when I'm not in school, there's this special feeling about summer that I can't help but love, even though the humidity makes my curly hair go crazy.

Winter, on the other hand, is magical. The snow is absolutely beautiful--especially in December, when everyone has their multi-coloured Christmas lights up and they sparkle against the snow with the street lights. I love the excitement of the first snow fall, how I still run out to taste the fresh flakes on my tongue in the middle of the street. I love curling up inside, with sweaters and blankets and hot chocolate. I love surrounding myself with a zillion blankets at night, and taking a nice, hot shower in the morning. Just the very thought of winter makes me happy, even though I look terrible in hats and the wind makes my face go numb after being outside for ten minutes.

Fall is always the season I overlook. I always view it as an "in-between" season, along with spring. I never liked spring, because the snow melts and makes everything wet and muddy and thus hard to walk around in. Whenever I think about fall in the heat of summer, it always makes me depressed--no matter how much I love winter (and Christmas), I still never want summer to end. The idea that the days will grow shorter (they're already short enough, thank-you-very-much) and the temperature will drop is significantly less than appealing.

But fall is almost a comfort. Fall feels like new beginnings--it's when school starts up again (even though I may no longer be attending), and when all of the television shows kick back up for a new season, with brand new ones joining in alongside them. It's new pencils and new notebooks and new stories and a new year--January will never feel as fresh or as new as September does to me.

So although I hope that Manitoba still has a few warm days left in store, I will be content with my sweatpants and hoodies and big fluffy socks. I will turn off my fan and curl up under my covers, and spend an extra five minutes in the shower because holy moly do I love hot showers. I will enjoy this.

It is, after all, just a new beginning.


QUESTION OF THE DAY: what's your favourite season? Comment down below!

Until later,

- Justyne

Christmas (WFMAD Day 28)

I am in such a big Christmas mood right now that I can't even handle it.

As I've mentioned briefly before (and as a good 90% of you will already know), I love Christmas. So much. I love absolutely EVERYTHING about it; the movies and TV specials, the music, the whole general atmosphere that surrounds that special time of year. I love decorating the tree and just about every other square inch of the house, and I love watching as the multi-coloured lights outside twinkle and sparkle against the ten feet of pure white snow that falls over Manitoba every year.

It is FANTASTIC.

As you can see, I get into the Christmas spirit really really early. I start obsessively counting down the days, and annoyingly blaring assorted Christmas music out of my speakers and throughout the house, and I just get super excited. I'm basically like a kid on Christmas morning...three months before Christmas morning.

The only problem with getting into the spirit so early is that no one else is getting into it. Aside from a couple of my friends (TAYLOR AND WENDY YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING), everyone gets annoyed when I start talking about Christmas in September.

But I just can't help it! I love it that much! I mean, not even the gift shopping gets me stressed out, because I genuinely LOVE planning and buying and wrapping everyone's gifts.

I think I'll end this now, before I start annoying you guys, too. Instead, I'll sit in my room, overly excited for a date that's still 87 days away (87!) and listen to Christmas music like it's already December.

Hey, on the plus side, it gets me in a good mood. :)


Until later,

- Justyne