I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted anything for my trustee readers. It was a loooonnng winter, but I'm back now, and better than ever! I'd like to thank Allen for sparking my re-entry into blog land, by publicly (on the internet) calling me rude. I maybe rude, but I will prove that I am not a giant dork by now posting an awesome story...instead of a story about a plant whose name is the coolest thing about it. ANYWAY, enjoy!
It all started with an unexpected visitor from Indiana. He came to Maine last weekend to stalk (I mean visit) one of the students I went to Louisiana with this Spring. We decided to give him a big warm welcome in the form of a bonfire in the student's yard off Washington Ave in Portland. It seemed at first like it would be a quiet night. There were only a handful of us there, and it was pretty casual. Until the time came to actually start the fire.
Turns out Indiana boy had NO CLUE how to start a fire, he didn't have any paper, or sticks or anything, only huge logs they purchased at the store. We critically watched him fail for over a half an hour, until he went inside to use the facilities, and then we took over. We searched the yard for anything smaller than a log to burn, and found a few arm loads of sticks.
I promptly got to work, putting my years of camp experience to good use. However, even the best camper can't start a fire with damp materials...by this time I was starting to doubt that this fire was ever going to happen....UNTIL....we made an amazing discovery, doritos are extremely flammable. That's right friends, we started a camp fire with doritos!!
So the fire was going great, Indiana boy had fallen asleep and we were chatting quietly and enjoying the warmth, until, out of no where a group of self identified stoners showed up at our camp fire. They were entertaining for sure, but also demanding, and ask me to make them all smores. It was all downhill from there.
I have a system for making smores, Which involves a little technique where I use 2 marshmallows to sandwich the chocolate, so that it gets extra gooey/melty/delicious. The stoners loved them, but I was getting tired, and apparently a little careless. Marshmallows started burning, and you can't make smores with burnt marshmallows, so I was getting frustrated, and of course, making the situation worse.
Now I've got two marshmallows roasting over the fire, being prepared for their amazing entry into the sandwich of goodness, when all of a sudden, they ignite. I pull them out of the fire, and somehow, as if infused with magical jumping powder they fly off the stick onto my hand/arm/semi-new-jacket. They were now aflame, attached to my skin, and I don't know WHAT to do. I feel like I just watched them burn for a while before realizing what was going on. My "friends" of course are laughing their heads off. (One of them claims that she was yelling "stop, drop, and roll" though that thought never crossed my mind.
Finally it dawns on me that probably watching the sizzling sugary goo is a bad idea, and I should make an attempt to stop it. So I do what I think of first, and try to pull my arm out of my jacket, but that doesn't work, because, well, I'm on fire, and very very sticky. Finally, one of the stoner girls comes to my rescue and puts the fire out. That's right, the stoner girl saved my life. I ended up a little scorched, but otherwise ok.
I'd be lying if I told you it was the first time I had set myself or a fleece jacket on fire. Probably won't be the last time either.
Moral of the story: Never doubt the power of doritos and people under the influence of illegal substances.
Hopefully, that story will satisfy you all for a short time. I'll make an attempt to post again soon (at least less than 6 months from now.)
Later Days,
Erica
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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