Day 18: My Living Room Caught on Fire.

Today I woke up thinking that it was going to be an ordinary day. I'm usually wrong about these kind of things, so naturally the day was weird.

I was sitting on my couch enjoying a particularly pleasant rainy day (which basically don't exist in Phx, AZ) when I immediately thought, "Ya know what this day needs? A roaring fire!" So, I proceed to make the perfect fire- precisely placed logs, easy-to-light kindling, recycled paper. The whole thing was utterly beautiful. At this point one of my roommates, Elaine the 1/4 Asian, comes into the room, plops down on the floor, and anxiously awaits my masterpiece of a fire.

Needless to say, it didn't light.

Try as I might, reciting Thomas the Train "I think I can, I think I can," as I went---the fire just wouldn't erupt in flames like my little heart desired. Then walks in Hannah Long Hair, my other roommate, who proceeds to start making fun of me for not making it correctly (I'm actually not sure if this really happened, but this is what USUALLY happens, so I'm including it here.). So, Elaine the 1/4 Asian gets up and tries to stir the fire to no avail...then Hannah Long Hair attempts to fan the flame.

Note: I SHOULD have been supervising this entire endeavor, especially knowing my roommates' extreme lack of knowledge regarding all things outdoorsy, but I didn't. Please note my regret.

Then comes a phrase that came pouring forth from my mouth that will forever live in infamy at the 852 (that's my house). I said, "Hannah, go get some nail polish remover and put it on the fire." I can almost hear you gasp as you read this...I know. I've done this probably 8,000 times safely (give or take a few) and my roommates have watched probably 2,000 of those times (again, a rough number estimate), but I guess it didn't quite stick with Hannah Long Hair.

The next few moments are really a blur, but what I do recall quite vividly are the screams.

First Elaine the 1/4 Asian screamed...then Hannah Long Hair...so I looked up from my work (yes, this was in the middle of my workday) to see Hannah's hand on fire. And by "on fire" I really do mean completely engulfed in flames. She had proceeded to slowly pour the nail polish remover directly from the bottle onto the hot embers, which of course bursted into flames immediately. The fire then traveled up the stream of nail polish remover and into the bottle, which of course ignited instantly, sending Hannah Long Hair into complete hysteria. She began running around the living room screaming while holding the fiery bottle in her hand, leaving a trail of flammable liquid behind her. This all of course burst into flames within seconds.

My entire living room was now flaming like a hot dog on the 4th of July. Lets keep in mind that at this point I was still nestled on the couch with my computer and my tiger print Snuggie.

We all sprang into action (not immediately I might add). I leaped off the couch in one swift move, Elaine the 1/4 Asian was still screaming, and Hannah Long Hair suddenly noticed that she was on fire. So, naturally, she dropped the flaming bottle on the floor, spilling the contents of the nail polish remover all over the floor once again. More flames. More screaming.

We had to put out the flames somehow obviously. So, Elaine ran to the kitchen and got dish towels. Hannah got our rice cooker and filled it with water. I ran to the pantry for flour. Elaine put the dish towels on the floor to put it out. The towels caught fire. More flames. More screaming. Hannah attempted to pour water from the rice cooker onto the flames, but I screamed to prevent this action (yes, that would've made it worse---see this terrifying 34 second video for a brief demo http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOvdlVEN6wY). Then I dumped flour on the fiery mess which basically put out most of the flames. Hannah then came racing around the corner with a fire extinguisher (WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!). She then screams, "IT WON'T WORK!" Note: fire extinguishers only work when you pull the pin from the handle. I then grab the extinguisher, pull the pin, and blast the rest of the flames.

Silence.

We survey the damage.

Then we burst into uncontrollable laughter. This goes on for quite a while (I recall my side hurting and face streaming with tears). We continued this laughter for the next few hours as we cleaned up the ashes of dishtowels, flour soaked nail polish remover, and fire extinguisher dust. Believe it or not, there was virtually no damage other than a charred corner of a rug and the horrendous burning chemical smell that permeated the house and couch. Other than that (and maybe some of Hannah's arm hair) everything remained untouched.

This was my Monday. Day 18 of 2010.

Day 337: Epic Embarrassment and the Crockpot of Doom

This morning I get this genius idea to make a crockpot full of goodness. Thus, my lentil/brown rice creation unfolds. The crockpot was acting a little funny, but I really didn't think twice about it to be completely honest. I think I was just distracted by the pungent aroma in the kitchen and kept getting visions of myself enjoying the taste bud EXPLOSION known as my dinner.

All this to say, smelling the sweet aroma of my creation, I failed to recognize clue #1 that something was going terribly awry. As I repeatedly checked on my dinner, I kept needing to obsessively add water. I thought this was strange, so I asked my roommate, Hannah Long Hair. She came over to the crockpot, opened the lid, peered inside, and concluded that I was nuts and everything was fine. I trusted her and went about my day.

Bad choice.

I left the house, leaving the crockpot on the counter to continue cooking, and proceeded to hike a mountain near my house. I was sitting at the top when I received a text from my other roommate, Elaine the 1/4 Asian, that said, "Dude. That thing isn't a crockpot. It's a rice cooker."

Fabulous.

Then she tells me that she's been uncontrollably laughing on the floor for the last ten minutes.

This is me embarrassed.

So, I get home, take one look at Elaine the 1/4 Asian, and she is sent into a fit of laughter like I have never seen (at my expense I might add). In the midst of her crying she is laughing so hard she asks me, "You try to find a lesson in everything. What's the lesson here?"

Without missing a beat I say, "Not to live with an Asian."

This is my Wednesday. Day 337 of 2010.

P.S. My dinner was still surprisingly palatable.