The girl who didn't dream of the 'roons

I lied. I am not overcome with thoughts of macarons twenty-four hours a day. I don't wake up and see them floating around my room before my eyes adjust to the light.

In fact, I've only ever had one.

It was at work, the lights were bright, my stomache was rumbling and I had spied the pretty lovelies on the interwebz many a time in the recent history. They were amazing looking. Anyone who ate macarons were magically transported to the pretty world of "Paris-and-NewYork-and-London-in-a-time-that-was-picturesque-and-movielike." This was my favourite place in the world. Flickr knew about this place. So did many of the folk on Blogger. (Eh, eh ; )

So I was determined to eat a macaron and join this magical world.

I was clearing trays of goodies from the tables at work when I laid eyes on the leftover macaron. It was pink. I looked around, all was clear so I ate it.

I wasn't transported to the delightfully filmish world. But here are some pictures other folk have taken of it.