a friend once likened me to a macaron: "tough on the outside with awesome innards." which is at once revolting and rather nice, because if one must be a dessert, i'm quite certain (assuming life as The Strawberry Cake Of Our Lives is not an option) one couldn't do much better than to be a macaron.
in the first 28 years of my life, i consumed a grand total of 13 macarons:
2 from alliance.
3 from delightful.
8 from france.
the 8 from france being so memorable that as many months later, i can still list their flavor and provenance:
framboise from le boulanger de saint-louis, versailles.
huge big happy SIGH.
3 chocolat from pâtisserie rue du départ.
framboise, chaux, citron, and fraise from ladurée.
the more mathematically inclined among you may be interested to note that a consumption of this rate equates to roughly 1 macaron per 26 months of life.
it is, therefore, both significant and highly awesome that in the last 8 days, with great pleasure, i have become queen of a kingdom, population 40 macarons.