Did I mention my in-laws were just here?

Well, they were. They came on Christmas day, and left this morning.

Peter and I haven't had much time to do any touristy things since we moved here, so it was fun to kind of play tour guide and also check out some of the tourist attractions we hadn't made it to yet.

Like visiting Ground Zero... It was foggy at dusk, and gave everything a ghostly look.

and touring Canal Street. We'd already been there once, but we had to go to M&M World again!

I think the highlight was touring NBC Studios, where we got to visit the Saturday Night Live set and also Late Night With Conan O'Brian. (Which was especially special because both my hubby and his sis are big Conan fans). Pale Force! Jamie in front of 30 Rock Jamie Et Moi

On the LAST day of Christmas...

I'm not sure exactly if the 12 days of Christmas are supposed to start on Christmas day, or end on Christmas day, but no matter to me,

because today was officially the last day of Christmas at our house.

After packing up some treats to be sent home to my Georgia kinfolk I said adieu to my visiting in-laws and then began the de-christmasizing process. Which, of course, involves a long hard look at one's financial status.

Surprisingly, we did really well to stay under budget. (It took some blood, sweat, and a boatload of tears to stay there, but somehow we made it under!)

For example: a few days before Christmas eve I said, "lets go get a tree!" which elicited an unwelcome, "we can't afford a tree this year, and all our ornaments are in Georgia anyway." So, to be spiteful I said "fine!" and pulled some cardboard out of the pile of garbage sitting by the door about to be taken to the dumpster, and began fashioning a tree. Knowing he hates trashy, chaotic-looking, thrown together things, I thought that perhaps having to look at a pile of old cardboard shaped like a tree might inspire him to join me in a little budget bending.

But then I got into it.

Really into it.

Next thing I knew I was blowdrying paper mache and looking for some glitter to make a star with.

I trimmed it down and used cardboard rolled around an old spaghetti jar to make a trunk.

With all our gifts nestled around it, it made a cozy tableaux completed by the adorable snowman Aunt Janet gave me.

He looks very happy living under his tree of not pine, but garbage.

Who knows maybe I'll save my little garbage tree for next year.

Actually no, I won't because we have ZERO closet space already, and there'll be garbage enough next Christmas.

It's 1:35 in the morning!

Since it's past midnight you know what that means...

IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!!

Do you know what I love?

Getting commissioned to do paintings, that's what. With my hours at the flower shop dwindling I couldn't be happier to have people want my art. I haven't done many commissioned pieces in the past, so I always get very nervous because I want what the customer wants, and what I imagine (and am capable of) to match up so SO so badly.

Lucky me... I've had nothing but happy customers!

(That's me)

Well the semester is over.

Finished

Finito

and guess who got all A's? This girl!

Currently drinking from the mug of procrastination

One look at our pen/post-it collection will tell you that either a doctor or a very sick person lives here.

Along the Bics and Rollerballs are Flomax, Lovenox, and a variety of other cleverly named prescriptions on pens thanks to the drug reps that filter through Peter's hospital.

Yesterday Peter brought home my favorite freebie thus far...

THE MUG OF KNOWLEDGE

I think it's hilarious on many fronts- they know how to appeal to nerds, and also because they felt the need to print a disclaimer to explain that it does not ACTUALLY make you smarter.

Oh those drug companies know how to be cute.

Homeless in New York

I can't tell you how bothered I am by all the homeless people here in New York. Not actually the people, themselves, but by the fact that they have no home.and it is very cold.

We ran out to get some fast food the other day, and a guy came in off the street. He was elderly-late sixties, early seventies

rail thin, clearly mentally deficient

(perhaps a stroke, maybe parkinsons, posibly schizo?)

sweatshirt jacket instead of a coat, old socks as gloves.

He wasn't bothering anyone- he just came in and hunkered down in the corner near the heat vent talking to himself in a repetitive stutter-a combination of religious and political banter.

I wanted to call someone, but didn't know who.

The police would have escorted him out of the restaurant, but probably wouldn't do much more than that.

Who do you call in that situation?

I still had half my weekly lunch budget in my pocket, so I gave it to him. He called me an angel and trudged up to the counter.

I don't know what else I could have done.

Remember that thing I used to do...

Remember that thing I used to do where I mixed up paint and put it on canvas or wood or something until it kind of looked like something?

Well... I still do that... and the result is still up for grabs at

my shop