“It’s always tea-time.” – Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

As I write this post, my friend’s dog is sitting next to me. He’s a big black ball of sweetness who likes to good-naturedly crush internal organs as he clambers up to join you on the couch. I love him to pieces, but he’s not exactly the picture of elegance. His farts are silent, but deadly lethal weapons. His favorite pastime is destroying stuffed animals & decorating the room with a blizzard of their insides.

In a lot of ways, I’m like that dog (I have a whole “if people were only cats or dogs theory”). I’m bubbly, good-natured, hazardous & somewhat inelegant. Growing up, I’ll admit that I had a few girly phases. However, the majority of my youth was spent in a wild, tomboy-ish manner—which has bent my thoughts around certain girly traditions. Like manicures (yick!), heels (blech!) or tea parties (meh.)

The same friend who owns said dog is the exact opposite of that. She’s the über girl, decked out with bows & bracelets, heels that click as she sashays through shopping marathons. She was the one who had a tea party bridal shower today. Other than little  tea parties I threw when I was little (small food has been a long-time fascination), I had never previously been to a tea party before. It was fun & girly & I was too busy running around as the “Official Photographer” to actually drink tea (oh, the irony). But I did get the bride tea & eat finger sandwiches & dress up, so that counts in my book, so bottoms up!