May 9, 2012

On my way to the library this morning, a man drove by me.  He slowed down, rolled down his window, and immediately went into a massive coughing fit.  Then he drove away.  I don't know what this means, but there's a little voice in my head that says he was trying to kill me.
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I woke up at 4:30 this morning and I couldn't fall back asleep, so I took my dog for a walk.  It was humid and foggy and wet and gray outside.  I decided it was the perfect day for an elegant tea party in my enchanted garden.  I asked Kacey, my imaginary friend, to come.  He was excited until I told him that I also invited Lilliquith, the dead mouse I found in my kitchen this morning.

"Why'd you invited him?"
"Because he is educated and elequent.  Now stop bitching and put on your best gothic victorian suit."

This is a drawing of Lilliquith.  He wears glasses and quotes Tolstoy and Nabokov.


"What are you gonna wear?" asked Kacey.
"A poofy pink dress," I said.  "And I actually won't look stupid in it."
"Can't I wear a dress?  And you can wear the suit?" asked Kacey.
"No because this is an Elegant Classy Event and we are going to be Elegant and Classy people even if it kills us."
"Does Lilliquith have to wear a Victorian suit?"
"Lilliquith is a mouse." I said.  "Why the fuck would he wear a suit?"

The tea party was wonderful.  Here is a copy of the formal invitation.

(This does not mean that you are invited, because it already happened.  Maybe next time.)

We drank tea out of dainty little cups and ate dainty little cakes and cookies made with heaps of butter and sugar.
Even though I like to pretend that we looked like this:

Here is an actual photograph from this afternoon:

Me and Kacy are quite literally incapable of being classy or elegant.  Lilliquith didn't mind though.  He's too far up his own ass to really notice.  Plus also, he's dead.

In case you were wondering about Kacey's absence from this picture, rest assured he's there.  He just doesn't really show up in photographs well.  Every time I ask him about this, he just gets this far off look in his eyes and says, "I did a lot of drugs back in the day."  This explains literally nothing about his inability to show up in photographs, but I let it slide.  The whole thing is a shame though because we have gone to the beach and the moon and Milwaulkee and all of our souvineer photographs are me, grinning wildly, my arm wrapped around nothing but air.