Thinking Beyond the Presents (Festive Post!)

As is typical with the festive season, I've been constantly wrapped up in layers of excitement, madness and sheer busyness as the countdown towards Christmas gets as close as the much-awaited release of the new Star Wars film (which, despite mentioning it so it looks as though I've actually bothered to take notice of current affairs of late, I'm not interested in seeing!). And now, with mere hours away until the day that shops, the media and our families will refuse to forget about for what feels like millions of months arrives - doesn't it just amaze you as to how the countdown is nearly up and the hardcore partying (with my cans of Tango Orange, nonetheless) simply awaits? 

To be honest, I've struggled to settle into the festive spirit, if you wish for me to call it such a term, this year than during previous Christmases, for reasons that I can somewhat understand and have absolutely no clue about, like why models always seem to have just missed out on purchasing a sold-out drop-dead gorgeous dress when they stomp down the runaway (though, as a so-called moaner according to my brother, I ought to relate more to it!). 

For starters, studying has consumed me like my brother devouring the richly fruity cake I made the other day for months and, although Christmas is the ideal time to toss my Science revision guides out of the window (for a little while as I'm not that kind of a rebel!), I'm not a robot in the sense that I can switch off my emotions, thoughts and indeed stresses. Like producing a mouth-watering souffle, time is the necessary ingredient in calming myself down as I get used to relaxing during Christmas and forgetting about whether I recognise the difference between infra red and microwaves for at least a couple of days. 

In addition to this, I feel that this year has definitely proved to me that I'm getting old. OK, not the kind where I'll swap my current present ideas of skinny jeans for anti-wrinkle creams so expensive that even thinking about spending a ridiculous amount of money is enough to create a particularly bad case of crow's feet! Instead, the aging blues affect me in the way that Christmas seems to live off the elation and pleasure that is mainly sourced from childhood delight which, as a once Bratz-loving eight year old (whose obsession with toys scarcely more dressed than a Victoria's Secret angel somewhat disturbs me nowadays!), I completely recognise. 

Ripping open teddy bear-patterned wrapping paper to find a Disney Princess mini oven (albeit years before The Great British Bake-Off graced our screens), travelling to a Toys 'R' Us in the middle of nowhere to choose which Bratz dolls my heart most desired for Christmas and receiving gifts that I had no slightest clue about until Christmas Day (unless my brother, ever the daredevil, decided to fill me in on the 'goss' upon 'accidentally' visiting the so-called 'secret' room beforehand) - these moments are not only the most magical memories that one could ever dream of experiencing, yet they are specifically for children which, as I closely approach my 17th birthday, I no longer identify as. 

Does it disappoint me to no longer be treated to special trips to mighty toy stores so that I can select which dolls or toys that spark a wave of happiness to splash within me, or I've now indeed progressed to using real (ridiculously hot) ovens instead of feeling like a pint-sized Nigella Lawson for producing a batch of mediocre, yet sweetly-flavoured cakes in my mini oven? Mostly, I'm grateful for progressing onto newer horizons because I now reserve the freedom to be more selective with what I want as I'm not limited to one specific category - a delightful mixture of books, CDs, clothes and lip glosses appeared on my Christmas list this year, which I suppose is more varied than the Barbie- or Bratz-addled ones I used to have as a pink-clad youngster. If anything, at least I can pride myself upon being able to make cakes and treats that no one in my family will pretend to like because they are actual food - there are only so many times that you can pretend that a limp-looking 'cake' out of a pink sachet is on a par with a homemade Victoria sponge, especially when you are no longer nine years old! 

Nevertheless, Christmas reminds me of how quickly I'm growing up which, like many things, both thrills and terrifies me at the same time; occasionally, I wish that Christmas could be like it used to be when I used to receive plenty of 'surprise' presents which, as pretty much anything girly went down a treat, I always loved. Despite reserving some of my budget for my parents to spend on a surprise gift, I travelled into nearest city yesterday to spend that budget however I wanted because they really couldn't think of anything that I might have liked. This once more proves the difficulties of shopping for teenagers - unsurprisingly, if I can't figure out what I want, it is very unlikely that anyone else can decide for me! Besides, I can comfort myself with knowing that I didn't impulse-buy which, when parents look for Christmas gifts to give to their children, must be rather tempting because it might look better to get something as modern day Christmas tradition seems to dictate that one must buy as many items, regardless of their crappiness, for their loved ones, even if they will probably turn their nose up to it or politely utter 'thank you' after receiving it before returning their 907th round of Flappy Bird.  

Sure, part of me might truly crave a surprise every once in a while - though I truly wouldn't be able to tell you what kind of one my heart craves like the voracious yearning for a Louis Vuitton bag - yet I'd rather receive things that I want instead of getting something which could possibly disappoint me, hence why I tend to prefer receiving money instead of gifts from relatives or friends because hardly anyone, let alone myself, has the precise answer to my shopping desires. Still, I'd never turn my nose up to a Dolce & Gabbana dress...

Since discussing my growing pains with Christmas today, I suppose that I'm feeling more 'Christmassy' than I previously did because Christmas can be presented in numerous ways, yet still retain its festive and certainly fun-tasting flavour. It might no longer taste as sweet and sugary as it did when I used to be presented with bags upon bags of chocolate coins (which I so wish could be used when paying for my shopping - well, everyone deserves a bit of sweetness here and then, don't they?), tubes of addictive Smarties or juicy Fruit Pastilles and selection boxes that contained my favourite chocolates, such as a plain yet extraordinary Cadbury's bar, a bag of Maltesers and Galaxy minstrels - yet Christmas is still Christmas in whatever shape or form you want it to be as you get older, which I should never lose focus of. 

Nowadays, my Christmases are more under-stated, quieter and (thankfully) less destructive towards my metabolism as I lose my taste for certain chocolates or sweets (though a novelty container of berry-flavoured Jelly Babies found their way into the shopping bag yesterday), yet I nonetheless appreciate them just as much as I always have and will. It's just that I now see beyond the presents, and fully appreciate the importance and beauty of the food, music, films (even the ones that I shouldn't really admit to watching at this age; Disney is to blame for that!) and spending time with my family. And also realising that I'm indeed not an exam machine and I deserve time to relax at home - and what better time to do that than at Christmas?

All in all, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a brilliant New Year that I hope is filled with as much positivity, good luck and happiness as you deserve. Also, thanks for reading my blog which, despite taking a back seat from working on it for the past few months, still means a lot to me as it has proven to be the best possible platform for releasing the furious vibes that only one can experience during a spectacularly bad teenage meltdown. Here's to a fantastic (and minimally moan-free) 2016!