Stacy Horn

I’m trying to fatten up Buddy (the one in the back) at the same time that I need to trim down Finney (the one hovering in the foreground with his belly resting on the floor).

Finney always finishes first, of course, and the challenge becomes keeping an eye on Finney to make sure he doesn’t take Buddy’s food.

Speaking of food, there’s a picture of Christmas cookies on the front page of the Times right now. I must have some. But all the good bakeries near me have closed due to the one that Sex and the City made famous. Where am I going to find Christmas cookies (good ones)?? Knowing how to cook would really come in handy right about now.

I’m sitting here, literally trying not to freak out about a half a million things and I read this headline on health.com:

10 Careers With High Rates of Depression

“Artists, entertainers, writers. These jobs can bring irregular paychecks, uncertain hours, and isolation.” A-freaking-men, they do. Why couldn’t I have really wanted to be a dentist??

Tree, pretty.

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This storefront has now been empty for years, it used to be my copy shop. But there’s been some activity and clean-up lately, and someone decided to put up a little holiday cheer.

I love the simple, no-frills genuineness of it.

I loved how this guy sang That’s Life at the Loser’s Lounge last night (didn’t save the program and I forget his name!). It’s such a wonderful sentiment (I’m going to pick myself up and get back in the race) until the end (I’m going to roll myself up in a big ball and die). He also made me happy because he dedicated the song to his boss, Obama.

This is Santa checking his list and checking it twice. I passed him by on my way to the Loser’s Lounge. I put on my “nice” face.

On my way back from the library I ran straight into Santacon!! Woohoo!!

Wait, what?

Whatever happened to you better not pout?

That’s right. The girls of Whoville show how it’s done! My favorite part, and I didn’t get a picture of it damnit, was when an old guy who really looked like Santa walked by in a suit and they all crowded around him and started bowing. “The real Santa!! The real Santa!” It was freaking adorable.

I took a bunch of shots trying to give a sense of how many Santas there were. Basically, lots.

Move it along Santa. Er, Santas.

In New York City, Santa catches a cab.