Friday, May 11, 2012

Happy French Day


Yesterday was the best day ever. This term, the poetry seminar I'm in has six students, which is small on its own, but it used to be a class of three (my class recently combined with the other small poetry class to make it a class of six). So that means for the last nine months, my teacher Jenna, and my classmates Lauren and Roxanne, and I have all been together. There was a campus wide poetry contest that we all entered and yesterday the winners were announced. Out of all the people that entered, Roxanne got fourth, I got third, some random guy got second, and Lauren won! Our teacher, Jenna was so proud and it really showed what a great teacher she is because 100% of her students placed in the contest. I won $200! You can make money from poetry! It was pretty great and the coolest part about the contest was that celebrated Southern poet, Andrew Hudgins, was the judge and he gave all of the winners comments on their poems. To read what a guy of that caliber wrote about me was the best thing.


I was still in such a good mood from yesterday, that I determined today was French Day, which pretty much means awesome day. It was probably because of my puffy white dress and ascot, but I was just feeling very French. We spent the whole day saying "good French morning to you" and "happy French afternoon to you" which made us laugh and confirmed that we're really weird sometimes. It was beautifully sunny and warm today and it felt too good to be true. 


The good day continued when we went out just for truffle fries and milkshakes. Sometimes that's the best kind of lunch. Considering it was French Day, and I take my holidays very seriously, I decided to make macarons. They are the funnest little cookie, but just as tricky as everyone says. I only successfully made about six sandwiches when I was supposed to get about twenty five. I put both cookie sheets in the oven and one came out literally black and burnt and the other batch wasn't cooked through. The burnt ones were pretty much dead but I thought I could at least save the undercooked ones. I was kinda wrong. Even after baking them more, they were just so gooey that they fell apart in your hand. Fortunately they tasted delicious so Paul and I got to eat all the sad broken ones. I am glad that I did at least make a few good sandwiches though. But now I am a little skeptical of macarons; I haven't quite mastered them yet, but I'm getting there. 

1 comment:

  1. Oui, you look tres French. Post your award-winning piece of poetry! I wanna read it. Merci :)

    ReplyDelete