My roommate is a Scrooge. She took down our Christmas tree already. Yes, our sweet little foot-tall tree, decorated with a single strand of white lights, perched on the windowsill to be seen by all in the square below. Gone. I saw it sitting empty and bare on her bedroom floor last night. I said, "you took down the tree?" and she said, "yeah, Christmas is over." Barely. Plus, um... do I live there too? Or do I not have a say in our interior decoration? It feels that way sometimes when new things just start appearing in the living room. It started with a hallogen lamp. I thought, hmmm... useful, attractive lighting, how nice. Then pretty soon it was a fake tree in my writing alcove (no, not the Christmas tree - one of those "potted plant" trees that stands in the corner). Next came a giant vase full of tall sticks straight out of Pier One. Ever so subtley appeared one burgundy throw, and then another. A pillow here, a pillow there. Now the coup de grace is this gigantic wall sconce. I'm not going to say that I don't like a lot of this stuff. Sometimes it's just a little... creepy.  ¶ 5:02 PM