Burnt Bacon= Game Day Ragin'

What's the best night of the week? In Ann Arbor, it's Saturday morning. Complete with "dancing and singing and moving' to the grooving'", and white boys playing funky music at every frat, house, apartment, and tailgate. The city is a sea of maize, blue, and dazed and confused students sporting red solo cups filled with the finest Crystal Palace has to offer. Nothing beats the feeling of cheering for "The team the team the team" with 100,000 of your closest friends.

However, here at The Stumble Inn, we begin our game days with brunch. Complete with chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, mimosas (when the guys from down the street feel like showing up), and even sometimes bacon. What is breakfast without bacon? Nothing, apparently, because last weekend when I burnt the bacon for our Game Day brunch, I could have sworn I saw a tear or two.

When it comes to me and cooking, things never seem to go right. Most things I cook either end up burnt, in flames, on the floor, or spit out (I have pizza delivery on speed dial at this point). Not to say I don't try, I do. I just don't think I was made to use kitchen appliances. So when I was put in charge of the bacon half-way through brunch last weekend, needless to say I was already a little nervous. Things were going well at first. I flipped the bacon when I was suppose to which is an achievement in itself. However, the story comes to a sad ending when we smelled burning food ten minutes later. The bacon was black, and the smoke almost set off the fire alarm (hence the above photo of the tray of bacon cooling off outside). Once again, food 1, Cheyenne 0.

The next brunch we made, my roommates joked that I was not allowed to even put the bacon in the oven, and when I went home (to West Bloomfield) for a Jewish Holiday a few days before that, my family was hesitant to allow me to help prepare the food for family dinner. And to be honest, I am truly okay with this for now. I may need a break from the world of cooking, and I have enough skill to prepare food well enough to sustain my life.  Steamed vegetables are now microwaveable, pasta is easy to concoct, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are always a staple.

What is important to remember is that without failing a few times, you will never experience getting back up and trying again. My saga of cooking stories may never end with my appearance on "Top Chef", but they remind me that challenges in life can be fun. Although it is frustrating when my meat isn't cooked though all the way (or cooked too much), I know that there is always something else to try to cook, or always a restaurant that will deliver straight to my door.

Viewing challenges as something inspiring rather than hindering is one of the best ways to apply optimism. When it comes to college (and life for that matter), challenges are plenty. Whether it be applying to a leadership position, writing a paper, or maneuvering a computer program, it's important for us to remember that we need to support and help each other when it comes to our weaknesses. Even if it may just be cooking a chicken breast.

And in the end, isn't burnt bacon just a metaphor for game days in Ann Arbor? Smoking, sizzling, and ready for another one? Game days will always have a special place in the heart of Michigan fans, and burnt bacon will always have a special place at the Stumble Inn, as long as I am a resident.