Obsessed With... Christmas

At this very moment, only a staircase separates me from the heaven to which I have been admitted: Christmas. Whilst the top floor of my house contains all the books, pillows and sleeping cats that any teenager could possibly need, downstairs is another story - lights illuminate the rooms as soon as the sun sinks into night's arms, dazzling as brightly as the diamond which inspired one of Rihanna's best songs. A new tree takes the pride of honour in the living room, whilst every hungry teen's dreams come true at once by opening your eyes in the kitchen: boxes of mince pies, homemade brandy-soaked fruit cake (made by none other than the fabulous baker who is, of course, me) and the German bread stollen, whose sweet marzipan filling I would happily devour in seconds.

Oh, and how can I forget the presents that, within seventeen days time, I'll have the right to rip open out of the festive wrapping that my parents spent ages (and used thousands of sellotape on) preparing the night before? Whenever I'm reminded of the gifts that I put on my list back in the summer - which already feels like many years ago, certainly not a mere couple of months - I have to place my hand over my face to stop myself from screaming. Seriously, If you ever wanted to meet the world's biggest kid, here she is, standing (or would 'towering' be more appropriate?) in front of you right now.

From the second that the C word (undoubtedly of the most delightful kind) is uttered many months before you really should mention it, I get excited. Majorly, crazily, absolutely excited. Like a volcano, I explode into a hot, sticky mess because it is borderline impossible to contain the fever that spreads faster than a fire! Either way, some people release their joy by drowning in a bottle of Aldi champagne, whereas others receive a self-diagnosis of sheer madness when embarking on a shopping spree that could rival Paris Hilton's spending habits:

I, on the other hand, just simply let it go. Yes, it really is as simple as that. Grabbing hold of your emotions then throwing them out once every single feeling has been collected is probably the only way that you'll survive Christmas - unless choosing constant battles with yourself isn't regarded as a problem! Releasing the thrills when they are still supermarket-fresh means that the excitement stays close to your heart, without losing a single ounce of its specialness.

Although my days of trawling through the Toys R Us catalogue (or, if my seven year old self was feeling particularly crafty, luring my parents into walking around a mega-sized store - think Ikea with Bratz dolls whose price tags are larger than their size 0 figures) are long over, my love of Christmas remains as childlike as ever - and long should it remain so! As always, my door shall sing in tune with the bell that dangles on my teddy bear stocking which, like one who has overdone it with the pudding on Christmas Day, swells up overnight on the grandest day of the year. Nothing will ever convince me otherwise that there isn't a greater feeling than feeling the gifts stuffed inside your stocking on Christmas morning, which you try so gently to open in the dark without making a sound - such an impossible feat!

The magic is still there as you get older; the only difference is that you are wise enough to recognize and perhaps appreciate more than you did as a present-mad youngster. Hmm, it seems that very little has changed in that respect...

Another thing that has really pumped up the excitement for Christmas is that, once Thursday has finished next week, I'll be treated to over a fortnight of school holidays - if that doesn't call for a world-stopping celebration, what does? After I've received that milestone, very little will stand in my way of rewatching my favourite festive films, baking (and eating) more treats that my appetite will be able to cope with and relaxing to my heart's content. Within several weeks, plenty more than I could have ever expected has been achieved: in that sense, I'm going to enjoy every second that I have of the holidays, wringing out all that I can from each day!

In the meantime, I won't be deprived of festive fun as I'll be tucking into the only Christmas dinner that hasn't been cooked by my mum at school this Friday, which will give me the pleasure of having two hours away from lessons before I return to Maths hell halfway through the lesson. Part of me believes that a test is being held on that day, so I'm pretty desperate to escape the very worst of it, especially if I haven't found time to revise a few days beforehand!

If I'm feeling so festive at the beginning of the week, are there any words of advice that will keep me in line until the weekend rolls around the corner? Once I've caught Christmas fever, very little will subdue it - it demands to be felt! For once, I'm hoping that a dose of hardcore Biology will subdue it...

Though the words may seem slightly premature to be escaping my lips, Merry Christmas (and, to spare you the agony, no mention of the New Year)!