Hey guys, I'm Katie! Welcome to my blog, where I ramble on about anything and everything. I'm 21 years old, a rising senior at Boston College and am pursuing a major in International Studies and a minor in French. I just returned from studying abroad at Sciences Po in Paris, so most of the entries from the past five months consist of my cultural experiences, my passionate love affair with French food, my close encounters of the third wine, and my ramblings about crazy French people. I love photography, traveling, reading, and cooking. I love all kinds of music; check out what I'm listening to at last.fm. I also enjoy a good tweet now and again. Check out some more random facts about me, if you're so inclined...
L’addiction continue…
by Me
I love your beauty,
I love your shape,
I love the way you make me feel.
I love your color,
I love your taste,
I love that the ingredients in you are real.
Macarons, macarons, sweet macarons.
Why do you taste so great?
Macarons, macarons, sweet macarons.
You’re making me put on weight.
So! As you can tell, my addiction to French macaroons continues. Today, Kelsey, Jill and I went to Ladurée, which is a famous pastry shop on Champs Elysées. It’s a tremendously popular place, and there were at least 20 people standing in line when we got there. We actually encountered another rude Parisian (one of my favorite things to blog about), who cut us in line and then pretended that she couldn’t understand our French even though we were clearly indicating that she cut us. It’s okay though, I burned holes in the back of her head. Anyway, we waited in line, I left a bit of drool here and there on the glass as we moved down the line toward the registers. Everything looked incredible! I settled upon getting 4 ‘mini-macarons,’ and I got a vanilla, dark chocolate, caramel with salt, and a green apple (which the kind lady who helped me recommended). I also ordered a madeleine, which is basically just a cookie of sugary, buttery goodness.
Just to throw in a random historical tidbit, I remember reading an excerpt of Marcel Proust’s autobiography somewhere (maybe for the SATs or a French class or something along those lines), and it was this type of cookie that brought back vivid memories of his childhood. It’s interesting how tastes and smells are such major memory triggers. Even though I have a delayed sense of smell (ask anyone), scents in general are the strongest memory triggers for me.
Anyway, Fanny, the lady from the apartment rental agency, showed Jill and I another apartment today. This one was significantly nicer than the last, with big open rooms, great lighting, a decent kitchen, and it was located just around the corner of Champs Elysées. The only problem was that it better suited three people rather than four. I spoke with Simone and Kelsey about the situation, and Simone suggested that she move up to the Anne Frank loft where I’m currently sleeping, which works out great for both of us; she is about four inches shorter than I am (meaning that the low ceiling and beams won’t be such a problem) and wants her own personal space, and I just want a real bed and no more bumps on my head. Thus, I’m staying in my lovely, quaint Parisian apartment with my lovely roommates! And it’s definitely turning out to be a good thing, as I’m starting to feel quite at home here.