A few weeks ago, I stocked up on my fall scented candles. There was a sale happening and I was more than happy to sit on my sofa with my swamp-soaked ass in oppressive heat and decide between Apple Cider, Pumpkin Spice or Harvest.
In all honesty, I said “fuck it” and ordered all of them because I know how I operate. As soon as mid-August hits, my body and soul want to go into full-on fall-mode and I’m not going to fight it. Those candles are lit as soon as I get up and if anyone so much as thinks about blowing them out, they have to answer to Mama.
The candy corn and Halloween decorations are in the stores. The air smells like apples and freshness. How can you not get horny for fall? All the haters who are trying to make summer last longer than it does, or making fun of people like me, are simply in denial.
There is nothing that makes me happier than putting out an autumn-scented soap. If someone posts they are baking up some pumpkin chocolate chip cookies or apple dumplings, I can’t love that shit enough.
As soon as temperatures dip into the low 70s, you bet your ass I break out the sweatshirts and talk about how fall is in the air until the people around me (who are still wearing cutoffs and tanks) want to hurt me.
I love a nice decorated front door that shows pumpkins, mums, and some corn stalks too. This seems to really get the fall-haters revved up.
I have a message though: mid to late August is harvest season. It is when apples and gourds are ready to be plucked and used in pies and cakes and donuts and placed like so on your front stoop. Whoever says we have to wait until after Labor Day needs to shut their lips.
That’s as silly as saying you can’t decorate for Christmas until after Thanksgiving. It’s my front door and I’ll decorate it when I want.
Contrary to popular belief, just because someone is celebrating something earlier than you are, it really doesn’t make the season go by any faster.
Just because my home smells like cinnamon spice, there’s an apple crisp in my oven, my candles are lit, and it’s so inviting people think it’s a bed and breakfast and want to shack up for the night — and your house smells like sweat and denial — doesn’t mean the summer is going to suddenly come to a halt.
Fall is short. There are years it seems like we go from summer to shit-ass freezing cold weather, and I like the in-between.
I love wearing shorts and a sweatshirt without the boob sweat.
I love the dry air autumn brings because my hair looks legit every day.
I enjoy an off-the-shoulder sweater and wearing a scarf with a t-shirt.
Who doesn’t need a brisk walk when leaves are falling? And if you don’t love a hard (or hot) cider, you are missing out.
I refuse to live my life in such a strict way that I have to wait until the time is right to enjoy my beloved sweatpants, turn on the fireplace, and go to town with white pumpkins on every surface.
It’s the first week of September and there’s applesauce in my Crock-Pot. I’m fucking done with sand in my car and having to remind my kids to put on sunscreen. I hate the smell of chlorine and having to shave my legs.
Bring on the beanies and the boots. It’s time for selfies holding your pumpkin latte with your fall-shade painted nails. It makes me, and all fall loving bitches, deliciously happy.
If you ask me, we need something, anything, that will bring a smile to our face this year.
If I have to pick apples with a mask on and order my candles, fall soaps, and wreath online instead of inhaling everything in person, so be it.
I’m going to do it up this year and be a little extra about fall.
Fall Floozies of the world, it’s our time to shine. Don’t feel like you have to wait until anyone says it’s okay. Wrap yourself in buffalo checked shit and suck back all the pumpkin drinks you can get your hands on.
This is a magical time of year and I am not going to hold in my excitement just because the calendar says it’s not officially fall until September 22. By that time I will have already rolled in six piles of leaves, thrown back a shit-ton of lattes, and baked at least eight apple or pumpkin flavored desserts.
You can fight it, or you can join in the fall-frolicking. Dump out your mojito and get in the Now, would ya?
Either way, “Fall is a ball” bitches aren’t going to reel in it so you can feel like your summer isn’t coming to an end.
But just so you know, it is. Instead of getting mad, go get a few cinnamon sticks, throw them on a pot on your stove with some water and vanilla. Then, feel the stress about your precious summer being over melt away.