The squeaky pubescent roar of spring...

Facebook today: I always forget Winter is a season that's not over until the end of March. Orrrr if you're in Utah...punctuating Springtime with its cameo appearances until mid-May. Serious.

So in late February, it shouldn't be so weird that it snows. It might just be me, but I always associate snow/winter with Christmas. And therefore, I like it until December 25th. Then I think "WTF?" when it keeps falling on New Year's Eve and stuff.

I don't believe in Spring. I don't think it's real. I think I'm the only American with this sentiment, since everyone else seems to think Spring is the best season ever. This is probably because I've lived in the Rocky Mountains for 16 years and haven't seen one with any integrity that entire time. Spring is like the awkward puberty stage. It's not a stage of its own, it's a transition between two legitimate ones. Especially here.

So I decided that apple spice and cinnamon and crap are not holiday smells: they're winter smells. That way I can give myself permission to like winter, all throughout March and April when it is still flushing itself out on us before summer stomps in abruptly.

All this is to say, that I am giving myself full permission to use up my Apple Spice scentsy cubes until May or so. The end.