Happy first day of November, party people. Did that greeting seem unexcited and blah? Well, blah is the operative word. I posted my feelings about November back on November 1, 2015. Re-posted below for your reading pleasure. Enjoy the redux.
Ever since I fell in love with autumn (since 1986 when we stepped foot on American soil and I experienced my first fall, in case you were wondering), I’ve wondered about November.
What is this month that pales in comparison to October, my favorite month? It doesn’t have the roaring engines of September, when fall begins. It certainly doesn’t have the romance/je ne sais quoi and ego-inflating that I associate with October (it is the month in which I was born, hence the mild inflation of my ego when I remind my mother that her life’s purpose was realized when her eldest child was born). And by December, I’ve forgotten all about fall and begin the dreading of winter. So, essentially, November is the stepping stone between wonder and dread. The head-scratching interruption. The red-headed stepchild of the fall season.
All that said, I’m officially making an effort not to do November wrong like this anymore. And, hey, I’ve always had a place in my heart for gingers and forgotten stepchildren. So this November:
- I resolve not to long for October. Much.
- I resolve not to side-eye a month as if it were the pesky seat-dweller next to me on the train who is determined to squeeze me in until I stop breathing.
- I resolve to do fun things during Blahvember–I mean November, such as weekend trips to see the fall leaves (even though, let’s face it, November means they begin to lose their vibrant colors, but whatever), spending much-needed time with friends (not complaining about dulling leaves), and eating all kinds of pumpkin-related pastries because it’s still fall. Thanks, November! (Even though my belly doesn’t thank you, but whatever.)
- I resolve to remember that November (you’re welcome for that rhyme) actually holds dreaded December at bay for several days, so this is good. Kind of like a moat around my castle. Wait. Did medieval marauding bands really find watery ditches all that intimidating? Don’t answer that.
And so, dearest November, you will suffer from my irritated and/or apathetic regard no longer. I will change the parameters of our uninspiring, tedious relationship. If it’s the last thing I do. Unless something else comes up. Anyway, I wanted to leave you with an inspiring quote about November, but–there weren’t any.