I’m Hygge AF
Get your cold ass in here and scoot up to the fireplace with me. Smells like cinnamon and fond dreams of childhood in this urban faux-cabin. I’m hygge as fuck! I’m not messing around when it comes to a Danish sense of coziness. I keep it real snuggly. Everybody who comes in here gets to feel like a small fluffy kitty curled up inside a big fluffy kitty. Let it be known, there is no one outside of the actual Denmark that can approach my hygge-ness.
Look around! It’s wall-to-wall cute in this place. I took a sledgehammer to everything that didn’t feel like a perfect October night and replaced it with stuff that did. I’ve got an actual maple tree growing in my bedroom. I make my own indoor syrup and put it on my pancakes every morning. I have been living on pancakes, cinnamon buns, and hot chocolate for the past eight months! Sometimes I worry that I’m literally turning into Santa, but then I remember how I would never leave my apartment to give children presents. The only time I go outside is to remind myself that the world is not a perfect wintery womb, then I run back in, throw on my adult pajamas, light some candles, and lose myself in wistful reveries. Nobody dissolves into yearnings for lost innocence better than I do. I’m the Lebron fucking James of brooding whimsy.
You better get with the program and get totally contented right now, my friend. I curate everything around me to be max hygge, and you are now part of my hygge-sphere, which means your one purpose in life now is to contribute to my sublime comfiness. I’m going to have to insist that you change into something way more relaxing to me, immediately. Here, put this on, it’s a sweater made out of a bunch of rabbits hugging you at the same time.
Isn’t this great? A rustic oasis amidst the chaos of the city! This is a stress free zone, and I rule over it with a mittened fist. One must always be on one’s guard for anti-hygge agents. There are many who would rather bring the storm inside than watch it bundled up through the gauzy glass. You wouldn’t be such an agent, would you? One of these clowns who doubts the depths to which I will go to create an atmosphere of well-being and conviviality? I would let the devil fly around on me like a sky donkey if it meant I could make myself and my place more hygge.
You think because you’re from Norway and I’m from New Jersey that you’re de facto more hygge than I? How many tattoos of snowmen and cashmere socks do you have on your back alone? How many times have you started shoveling handfuls of powdered cardamom and nutmeg into your gaping maw because you thought you heard the sound of distant thunder? My blood is more mulled wine than blood. Everything that comes out of my body smells like star anise. I am the head hygge honcho, the hygge hedon, the glutton of ‘gge! YES, those are real owls. YES, those are real deer. And YES, they are best friends, because I made them be, because I created a space in which creatures of all kinds can’t resist the call of coze!
So, should we start with the salad? Oh darn, you sure you can’t stay? Can’t believe you’re so eager to go back into that blizzard!
What? It’s only 45 out? Ice beginning to thaw? Hmm, that’s too bad. Well, come back when the temperature drops again. Actually, you know what, I did just get this book on the KonMari method and now I’m really looking forward to spring cleaning. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.